Page 96 of The Weekend Crashers
“How delightful,” Elaine says, surprised.
The room buzzes with chatter, laughter and the click-clack of working needles. Maggie sees a familiar face: Sheila, dressed in a loose knit tunic, holds court on the sofa nearest to the fireplace. She jumps up when she sees them walk into the room. Then Maggie spots two more familiar faces, one very unexpected: Kalli showed up, and Cole came with her. He’s a reminder of the run-in with Aidan yesterday—not that she needs a reminder. She’s been thinking about it ever since. She can’t help but feel there’s unfinished business between them. But that’s something that will have to wait.
“Belinda,” Sheila says, giving her a quick hug. And then, to Maggie: “I love this spontaneity!”
“So glad you made it,” Maggie says.
“Are you kidding? It’s not officially a retreat, but I couldn’t risk breaking my streak over a technicality.” She gives them a saucy wink.
“Elaine, this is Sheila Bevins. Sheila has the unique distinction of attending every one of my retreats over the past twenty-five years.”
Maggie wonders what Sheila would say if the inn changed hands and that was the end of the knitting retreats. She hopes she’ll never have to find out.
“Quite a feat,” Elaine says. “Lovely to meet you. So tell me about these retreats, Belinda.”
Belinda launches into the financials, giving them the occupancy rate stats for retreat weekends, the revenue from the standard markups at the yarn market, the percentage of repeat business. But Elaine seems less interested the more Belinda talks.
Of course—Elaine has countless investment opportunities that would be a quicker and more guaranteed return on her money. So why is she here?
BecauseMaggiecalled her. Because Elaine doesn’t go into business for the money; she goes into it for the people.
“I think what Belinda’s trying to say,” Maggie adds, “is that the retreats remind us that knitting isn’t about the yarn. Or the hat. Or the sweater. It’s about connection.” She glances over for affirmation, but Belinda’s distracted. Her eyes are fixed on the other side of the room.
Maggie pivots to see what’s got her attention. And it’s Max.
“I thought he left,” Maggie says.
Belinda turns to her. “I thought so too.”
Chapter Forty-Four
The morning after their almost-marriage, Piper and Ethan take the bus across Central Park to go to the Yorkville farmer’s market. It’s a very autumn-in-New York thing to do, the stuff of Nora Ephron movies. It’s something she and her mother used to do every Saturday, and it’s still her go-to place for kale and squash. And today, maybe just a little, she’s also hoping to run into Maggie.
Ethan humors her sudden need for farm-fresh vegetables, and patiently waits until they’re in the checkout queue before saying, “Why don’t you just call her?”
Is it that obvious?
“You make it sound so simple,” she says.
“That’s because it is.”
He doesn’t get it. She and her mother have never gone so long without speaking. It feels awful. It also feels too big to resolve over the phone, but scheduling a time and place to meet feels awkward. That’s why she was hoping to bump into her. But since that’s obviously not happening, she probably should just pick up the phone.
“It went straight to voicemail,” she tells him after she tries. The voicemail is almost a relief. She wasn’t sure what she’d say if Maggie had picked up. Probably something like,We needto talk.Maybe that’s too melodramatic. She could go with,I think we have some things too discuss.Too formal. The phone just isn’t the way go. If she sees her, she’ll know what to say. She’s sure of it.
Her phone vibrates with an incoming text.
You here, too?
It’s from Cole Danby. Odd. She shows Ethan her phone screen.
“Who’s that?” he says.
“It’s Cole. From the retreat. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“So... ask him.”
‘Here’ meaning where?she types back.
