The Knitting Diaries: The Twenty-First Wish / Coming Unravelled / Return to Summer Island

“Then I can stand on it and watch Baxter play in the yard.”

“Good idea.”

“And my dresser will go over here.” She bounded to the far side of the room to show him.

“Where are you going to put all your books?” The ten-year-old had more books than any kid he knew, which made sense since Anne Marie owned a bookstore.

“Mom’s buying me my own bookcase and I want to keep it over there.” She pointed at the wall across from the window.

Ellen was a bright child who loved to read; he was pleased she enjoyed books as much as he did. Tim had been a voracious reader from the time he was old enough to hold one in his hands. That wasn’t the only interest he shared with his daughter and Anne Marie. They all seemed to love playing board games and being around the water, to name two.

He and Ellen spoke for a few more minutes and Tim knew he should leave. As it was, he’d trespassed on Mel’s time with her and Anne Marie.

“So when’s the big moving day?” he asked once he’d joined the others.

“Tomorrow,” Anne Marie said.

“Need help?”

“Not really.”

He doubted she’d be interested in any assistance from him but had wanted to ask, just in case.

“A big truck is coming for the furniture,” Ellen said, “but all our friends from Blossom Street are helping us move the boxes.”

“I’ve got muscles.” Tim bent his elbow and flexed his biceps. “See? I can lift boxes, too. Many hands make for a lighter load,” he said, misquoting a saying he didn’t quite remember. “Or something like that.”

“Can Dad help us move?” Ellen asked excitedly.

“I don’t think so, Pumpkin,” Mel answered.

Tim recognized the other man’s mistake even before Mel did. Mel apparently hadn’t realized that Anne Marie didn’t like anyone else speaking for her.

Which was no doubt why she’d changed her mind about allowing him to be involved.

“The more helpers we have, the less work,” she said.

“I’ll be here,” Mel said, as if that would make all the difference.

Anne Marie ignored his remark. “If you’re available, Tim, Ellen and I gladly accept your offer,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Just tell me what time and I’ll be there.” He resisted the urge to gloat. It would be poor sportsmanship, so he didn’t, but he certainly felt like it.

Mel narrowed his eyes. “What might be more helpful is if you took Ellen for the day,” he suggested. “She’ll get in the way—”

“I want to be with my friends,” Ellen protested, interrupting him.

“I want Ellen with me,” Anne Marie said emphatically.

“What about Baxter?” Mel asked, a bit irritated now. “Surely you don’t want the dog underfoot? Maybe Tim could take him.”

“I’ve already arranged for someone to look after Baxter.” Anne Marie obviously wasn’t pleased with the way Mel had taken control. Tim hadn’t known her long but he was well aware of her capable nature—and her independence.

“I should’ve known you’d be on top of things,” Mel said, apparently trying to make amends, although his compliment sounded grudging.

An awkward silence stretched between them. Ready to leave, Tim reached inside his pants pocket for his car keys. “I’d better get back to the office before my dad wonders where I am.” Tim worked as a broker at his father’s insurance agency.

“Yes, good idea,” Mel said.

“Mel,” Anne Marie whispered.

Taking the hint, Mel stepped forward. “It’s time I left, as well.”

Anne Marie and Ellen walked them both to the door. “Thank you for lunch, Mel. That was a special treat.”

“Thank you,” Ellen echoed.

“Would you like to take the leftovers home?” Anne Marie asked.

“No, you and Ellen keep them.” Then, with a sideways look at Tim, Mel announced, “Ellen’s favorite is chicken chow mein with crispy noodles.”

So that was how it was going to be. Mel was telling Tim he knew more about his daughter than Tim did. Tim felt his anger rise, but before he could respond, he inhaled a deep, calming breath and let the comment pass.

“Thank you, Tim, for the rhododendron,” Anne Marie said next. “I’ll plant it right away.”

“I’ll plant it for you,” Mel said.

Apparently, Mel was a slow learner, Tim thought. By now he should know better than to leap in and answer for Anne Marie.

He could predict her response.

“No, thank you, Mel. I’ll do it.” Anne Marie cast them both a warning look.

“Bye, Daddy. Bye, Punky,” Ellen said.

Mel’s face lit up triumphantly. He turned and started toward his car. Tim had parked behind him.

“She calls me Punky,” he said as they headed down the driveway together.

“Punky,” Tim repeated, suppressing a laugh. “Where did she come up with that?”

Mel shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

Not to be outdone, Tim said, “Ellen has a special name for me, too.”

“Oh?” Mel didn’t look as though he believed him.

“She calls me Daddy.”