Page 38 of The Weekend Crashers
Belinda uses a swatch to demonstrate stitches. Maggie leans over and whispers to Piper, “You surprised me at breakfast.”
“How so?”
“Your enthusiasm for the bushcraft bet,” she says.
Piper, her eyes on Belinda’s demonstration, says quietly, “Mom, that guy clearly likes you.”
Maggie shakes her head. No way. She didn’t get the sense that Aidan was hitting on her. Maybe he’s bored with the family weekend, or he wants to mix things up for his son so he stays more involved. He’d practically said so, right?
“You’ve got the wrong idea,” Maggie says.
“I don’t think I do. And, for the record, good for you.”
Maggie frowns. “I’m not here to hook up with some guy. This isourweekend.”
Piper works her needles confidently, barely looking over. “Mom, stop putting so much pressure on that, okay? We’re here together. It’s our weekend, sure. But that doesn’t mean you can’t meet someone.”
Maggie doesn’t know where this attitude is coming from. She decides that the only explanation is Piper would rather play matchmaker for her than deal with her own relationship uncertainty. Maggie would never say this to her, of course. If Piper doesn’t want to talk about Ethan any more this weekend, that’s just fine with her.
Maybe the bushcraft bet is the distraction they both need.
Chapter Nineteen
When Belinda teaches a knitting class, the rest of the world recedes. She falls into a state of flow that’s like the meditative act of knitting itself. She needs that flow this morning, but halfway through Estonian Lace, she’s still waiting for it. The conversation with Max last night was troubling. Sure, they’d discussed accepting the offer on the inn. It was certainly worthconsidering. But she never viewed it as a foregone conclusion. Now Max is acting like there’s nothing left to talk about. She never should have entertained the idea for even a second. But how could she have known Max would dig in like this?
“Knit into the same stitch five times, leaving loops on the needle, and purl them together on the next row. This creates a ‘nupp,’ a key Estonian feature that adds texture.”
Of course, the financial aspect is seductive. But she knows that she’d regret it the second she let the inn go. Max would too. She truly believes that.
“Remember to relax the tension in your yarn.”
Maggie Hodges, sitting next to her daughter at the table, is busy working her needles, her brow furrowed in concentration. Last night, upset about selling the inn, Belinda experienced an unexpected urge to confide in her guest. She’s glad she resisted; knitters are there to relax, not give her emotionalsupport. No, that should be her husband’s job. But sometimes that’s just not possible. So Belinda keeps a lot of emotions to herself. There’s even a part of her history with Max that she’d never told anyone about, not even her closest friends.
Belinda and Max had been married eight years when he had an affair with a copy editor at the newspaper. And when Belinda found out, she did what a lot of women do: she blamed herself. Running the knit shop required long hours. Sometimes, she felt like she spent more time at the store than in her own apartment. Meanwhile, Max was constantly on the move, running on adrenaline chasing the next big story that would break out his career. It was just enough of a chasm for someone else to step into.
When Belinda confronted him, he didn’t deny it. In fact, he admitted having feelings for the woman.
“Are you in love with her?” It was the most painful question she’d ever asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m not. But I’m in love with how much she cares about the things I care about.” Belinda understood what he meant—sort of. And she’d heard once that infidelity has less to do with sex and more with other needs not being met. So she tried to think of something they could undertake together, something to bring them closer and keep them that way.
They talked and talked but as long he worked at the same place as the woman he’d cheated with, they couldn’t move past it. His only other job offer came from a small paper an hour north in rural Bucks County. They drove out for a visit, took a detour to New Hope, and the rest, as they say, is history.
She checks her phone, mindful of the time. This particular workshop tends to go over, but she wants to keep things on track so everyone has some free time to explore the town in the afternoon.
“Great job, everyone. As you continue to practice, don’t be intimidated by mistakes. There’s a reason stitches can be unraveled! As you continue practicing your technique, embrace the imperfections. Lace is as much about the process as the result.”
The door opens, and Max walks in and with him, the delicious aroma of chocolate. It’s the first she’s seen of him today; Still a bit stung from the conversation last night, she left their bedroom before he was awake this morning.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says. “Genevieve’s Hot Chocolate Cart is in the lobby.” That’s when Belinda hears the distinctive tinny bell of the infamous traveling treat-mobile. Genevieve, wife of the local candymaker, has a roving hot chocolate van where locals line up, food-truck style, on the street or she brings a rolling cart by appointment. If Genevieve is in the lobby, it’s not a coincidence; it’s Max’s way of apologizing for last night ending in tension. Or maybe it’s to acknowledge her sadness over selling the inn, to show that he cares.
Max is great with grand gestures. It’s the subtler, everyday relationship upkeep that gets tricky for him.
Once the room empties out, she turns to him and says, “You shouldn’t interrupt a workshop.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left without saying a word this morning.”
He’s right. That wasn’t a relationship-positive thing to do. But she’d felt hurt.
