Page 52 of Mistletoe

“Just checking the fit of the sweater I knitted. It seems a little short.” She tugged on the end of the sweater, standing uncomfortably close.

“It is adequate.”

“Adequate? Please, say no more or I might faint from embarrassment.” She patted his shoulder affectionately and stepped back.

He huffed with amusement. “I see where Emma gets her sense of humor.”

“Do you know how to weave, Hal?”

“Pardon?”

“Let me show you how to work the loom.” Agatha retrieved a basket. “Warp thread, yarn, and a shuttle. The warp is strung vertically on the teeth.” She moved the stool closer and demonstrated how to string the thread, how to use the bar to create a gap in the warp, and how to guide the yarn through the warp. “Your turn.”

“I could not.”

“Why not?”

“It’s—” He struggled to think of a single good reason. “I am too clumsy.”

“Hal, while it is true that our acquaintance is recent, I have never noticed you be anything but graceful. Frankly, it’s alarming how a man your size can move so quietly.”

“I apologize if I make you nervous.”

She smiled as she stood up from the stool and patted his arm. “I never said that. Now you try.”

He tried to guide the shuttle through the warp as she had demonstrated, but his fingers were too large and the threads too fine. The shuttle slipped from his grip and fell to the floor.

“It’s not a race. Take your time,” she said in an encouraging tone. “This is a pre-industrialization technology. It’s meant to be slow.”

His second attempt came with less fumbling, but the yarn was not taut. It looked sloppy. Agatha demonstrated how to use the comb to push the yarn tight. She then told him the mysteries of adding another shuttle with a different color. After several passes back and forth, he had nearly an inch of fabric.

He brushed a finger over the fabric, amazed that he had created something new.

“I find working with my hands helps me think,” Agatha said, inspecting his work. “Is that true to you?”

“I prefer to keep busy,” Hal said.

“Busy is good. My grandmother used to say that mindless tasks help us process our complicated emotions when our bandwidth is stressed. No idea what bandwidth is; it’s one of those vestigial words. Hopefully, you understand from context.”

Hal knew exactly what bandwidth was. He was surprised that such a term lingered. “I understand.”

“Good.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Feel free to come here whenever the house is too loud. Also, there’s more yarn somewhere in here. Use as much as you need for your project.”

She left him in front of the loom. He experimented with switching between the different colored yarn and making stripes. Before long, he was determined to make a blanket for Emma, a gift so she would always be warm.

Emma

Mistletoe Farm

North Pasture

“You are pensive today,”Hal said.

They sat shoulder to shoulder on a stone wall under a cottonwood tree, eating lunch. The goats frolicked and grazed in the pasture.

Emma sat on her coat, enjoying the warm sun. Hal’s clothing—still the too-small hand-me-downs—made him look as if he had an unexpected growth spurt overnight. He had ditched the ill-fitting boots days ago and wrapped his feet in leather, secured in place with a cord. It wasn’t an elegant solution, but it was better than being barefoot.

She really needed to do something about his footwear situation. It was disgraceful.

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