Page 94 of The Weekend Crashers
If Maggie and Belinda are going to convince Elaine to become a partner in the inn, every detail counts: the way the place sounds, the way it looks, the way it smells. She’s tapping out a list on her phone as she paces in front of the fireplace: Food. Drinks...
“Do you think you could get that hot cocoa cart in the lobby?”
“It’s short notice,” Belinda says. “But Max seemed to get her on a whim last weekend, so it’s worth a try. I have to say, the bachelors certainly enjoyed it. Genevieve told me she rarely sells out so fast. Speaking of bachelors: You and Aidan Danby seemed to hit it off. Do you think you’ll stay in touch?”
Maggie takes a beat before responding.
“I sort of stood him up when I left like that on Sunday night. By the time I remembered our plans, I was back in New York. I texted him an apology but didn’t hear back.”
Belinda refastens the hair tie at the tail end of her braid and says, “Oh, you know the fragile male ego. They’re all-powerful when wielding an axe, but often crumble in the face of emotional nuance. Just let him know you’re back in town. I’m sure he’s gotten over that mishap by now. Especially if he knows there’s the chance to see you this weekend.”
Maggie hasn’t had time to process the run-in. She doesn’t know what to make of the fact that he was clearly on a date. It’s none of her business, really. If anything, she’s the one who made a big deal out of not looking for a relationship, of making sure he understood that it was just a weekend thing between them.
“Actually, he knows I’m here. I went for a walk after you and I had coffee and ran into him. He seemed to be on a date.”
Belinda looks skeptical. “That’s a big assumption. You’re probably projecting.”
“Anyway—I’m not here for Aidan.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course!”
“So you’re telling me that all of a sudden, you want leave your daughter and New York City—after how many years—and move to New Hope because you have a sudden urge toopen a knit shop? As much as I like to believe my retreats are that inspiring, this might push the bounds of credulity.”
Maggie nods. “There is more to it. I’m not leaving Piper. I’m giving her some space. I think it’ll be good for us. And as for the knit shop—I want to spend my days doing something I care about. Something that brings meaning and joy—to me and to other people. I know you understand that.”
Belinda nods. “I do.”
Maybe, on some deep level, Maggie factored Aidan into her idea of a future in New Hope. But it’s not a concrete thought, or plan. It’s formless, barely a shadow in the corner of her mind.
When the room is mostly staged, Maggie’s disappointed to see that with only a fraction of the yarn on hand that Belinda displayed at the beginning of last weekend’s retreat, Maggie can’t get the visual effect she wants. She envisions a symphony of color and textures, the room bursting with abundance; when she walked into the yarn market one week ago, it had felt like a knitter’s wonderland. It’s imperative that be Elaine’s experience tomorrow morning when she arrives.
“This is all the yarn you have on-site?” Maggie says.
Belinda nods. “I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing how much to order for the retreats without having too much inventory left.”
“Yeah. A little too good.” She frowns.
Belinda turns on the sound system and plays the Carole King albumTapestrywhile shearranges the worsted-weight yarn on a table next to the hand-dyed cotton.
“I like this music—can you queue this up tomorrow?” Maggie says.
The song “Where You Lead” plays, and Maggie feels a twinge. It’s a song Carole King rerecorded with her daughter as the theme forGilmore Girls.
Life is happening too fast. One minute they’re huddled on the couch watching Netflix after Piper finishes her homework and the next... Piper is married.
Maggie left her a voicemail congratulating her. It was a huge effort to make her tone sound normal—unbothered. Joyful, even.
She hasn’t told Belinda about the elopement. When she asked how Piper is doing, Maggie simply said, “Fine.” This is a business trip. She needs Belinda to view her as a steady hand, as a potential partner—not as a distracted, emotional mom.
The scarcity of yarn is nagging at her. There’s no yarn shop in town—hence, her initial idea to open one. But while the town lacks knit shops, it doesn’t lack knitters.
Maggie exchanged numbers with everyone at the retreat, and they already have their own robust group chat going. Two of the people in the chat are local—Kalli and Laurel. Sheila is an hour away, but it’s worth a try. So she sends a quick message:
I know this is totally random and if it’s not possible no problem—but can any of you bring your yarn stash to the inn tomorrow morning? Belinda and I need to borrow it for decoration.
She doesn’t know about Kalli and Laurel, but Sheila mentioned her mountainous stash during the yarn swap in her room.
