Page 49 of Truck Off

I let out a deep groan.

“Why do you even care, Lina?” I say to myself. I’m not dating, nor will I ever be dating, Chase Mutter. I don’t care what Felix said. Chase lied to me, and I can’t forgive him for that.

Opting to leave the flowers in my car, I grab my knitting bag from the back seat and head inside.

Knitting club is a small crowd, though we’ve grown from our original founding group of four regular attendees to seven or eight. Every now and then, a random guest will come with one of the founders, but not often.

The regulars are Mila, Mrs. Engles, who owns the hair salon in town, Mrs. Hoffman, the principal of the high school, and me. Sometimes Clara Zimmerman comes. Grams dragged her along several years ago to teach her to knit. Clara has been a lifelong friend of the Mutter family and practically grew up as a sibling. She’s always been nice to me, unlike some others.

Charlotte Weber and her niece Rayne have started coming regularly now that she’s moved back to town. Charlotte went to school with me, but we were never friends back then. She was the homecoming and prom queen that everyone loved while I was the class outcast.

As popular girls go, she was never mean to me. That role was owned solely by Vicki Lynn Baylor. I swear Vicki only took up knitting and started coming to our weekly meetings just to piss me off.

But I like Charlotte. She’s a good person, and she fits in with the rest of our misfit group just fine.

I’m a little early tonight since my last client couldn’t stay for the entire session, so I’m one of the first to arrive. The only other person in the meeting room is Hannah Fisher, Charlie’s wife. She’s a few years older than me and has always been kind to me.

“Hey, Hannah, glad you made it this week.” She jumps at the sound of my voice and presses her hand to her chest like I terrified her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She shakes her head and waves off my apology like it’s fine, but her expression suggests she’s anything but fine. “I was just lost in my thoughts. I didn’t hear you come in.”

I watch her carefully. Her eyes keep darting past me like she expects someone to barge in and grab her. “You okay? You look a little … flustered.”

I want to say scared, but I don’t want to spook her worse than she already is.

She gives me a forced smile. “I’m fine, really. Like I said, I just didn’t hear you come in.”

“If you’re sure.” I give her a comforting smile. It can’t be easy for a sweet woman like her to be married to an asshole like Charlie. I never understood what she saw in him. Especially considering she dated Liam Mutter before she started seeing Charlie. Liam is twice the man Charlie could ever be.

“I’m sure.” She holds her smile like she’s practiced it for weeks but still can’t figure out how to make it look real. Then she adjusts in her seat, winces, then presses her hand to her back.

“Hannah, are you in—”

“Do you think you could show me that special cast-on technique again?” She holds up her needles and yarn, which are a tangled mess. “I’ve been trying to get it right, but I just can’t. Maybe if you show me again.”

“You mean the Middle East wrap that I use for toe-up socks?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Sure.” I sit down next to her, knowing this is just a distraction, so I’ll stop asking her if she’s okay. Because she is not okay. Something’s wrong, but she doesn’t want to talk about it.

My gut tells me it has something to do with her shithead husband. But I don’t push her. Instead, I show her how to do the cast-on technique again. By the time we’re done and she’s knitting the toe of her sock, the rest of the group is here. Unfortunately, that includes Vicki.

Vicki takes the seat opposite us and turns her nose up at me like she’s too good to even breathe the same air as me.

“Hey, Lina,” Charlotte says before Vicki can toss insults at me. She always does, and she’ll find a way to work them in before the night ends. Putting me down seems to make her feel better about herself. Who am I to deprive her of something that makes her so happy? “You’ll have a booth at the spring art festival in Chillicothe, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there selling my work.”

“Is it true you’re going to offer a class this year for kids?”

I nod. “There will actually be two one-hour classes. One in the morning and one in the afternoon. Why do you ask?”

“Rayne wants to learn to paint. Would this be good for someone her age?”

“It’d be perfect for her. Just let me know, and I’ll put her name down.”

Charlotte looks over at Rayne and smiles. “You wanna do it?”

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