"And you didn't have to, did you?" I smiled into the phone. "You know, Maggie, it's so common to drop a stitch. We all do it. You can get knitting so fast you don't notice you've missed a stitch. I used to tell people to rip out the whole thing, but why? We can fix it without all the tears."
"Which takes time and patience, both of which you've spent on me. I can't thank you enough. How are you doing with the storm?"
"Great. Thanks for asking. I have my daughter and Will's mother over, so it's girl time. Plus, I have plenty to do with my work."
"Oh, I can't wait to see your exhibit, Deb!"
"And I can't wait for it to be done!"
We chatted a bit longer about our lives before we hung up.
It was gratifying to get a call from a young woman like Maggie. She may not realize it now, but our conversation was about knitting only on the surface.
Dropped stitches, like mistakes in life, abound.
And in marriage, there were opportunities for a great many dropped stitches.
Especially a marriage that's lasted as long as mine and Will's.
Will accused me of needing to "fix everything." But some days I just didn't have the patience or stamina to do the fixing part. I wanted to forget about it, shove the mistakes to the bottom of my knitting bag, so to speak.
But then the lure of the fiber, which in my marriage had always been our love and friendship, called me back.
And I found myself picking up the dropped stitch and weaving it back into the pattern of our life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.
Present Day Buffalo, New York WILL STRETCHED OUT on the sofa bed in his office. He raised his wrist and looked at the gold watch Deb had given him for Christmas. on the sofa bed in his office. He raised his wrist and looked at the gold watch Deb had given him for Christmas.
It was 5:30 a.m.
He yawned and swung his feet over the side of the bed. As far as hideaway beds went, this was the best. But it still wasn't the king-size, extra-firm mattress he shared with Deb.
Deb. He missed her. He relished waking up to her each morning, getting in that last kiss and cuddle before he had to start the day. He missed her. He relished waking up to her each morning, getting in that last kiss and cuddle before he had to start the day.
He missed her scent. Jasmine and her own feminine note.
The aroma of coffee entered his awareness. Obviously one of his colleagues had beaten him to it. Probably Vanessa.
All six curvy feet of her.
He scratched his head and stood up, stretching. That girl was one talented architect but clueless as to the personal side of life.
She was a Howard alumna, and never missed a chance to remind him of the one thing they had in common.
She was twenty-five years his junior, and he saw her more as a daughter. He wasn't stupid or ignorant of the fact that many colleagues his own age would take advantage of the situation.
But they didn't have a Deb at home. Chuck's wife of thirty-two years had died of breast cancer three years ago, and he was back in the market. Don had never professed to be a loyal husband and was known as a player. But Will didn't care what his employees and partners did with their personal lives, as long as it didn't affect the business.
That had been his stand since he started the firm almost thirty years ago.
Now he was going to be a grandfather. As he matured, he found it harder to keep his thoughts to himself. He wasn't judging his colleagues, not at all. But he wanted everyone to have a shot at the happiness he and Deb shared.
The truth was, it didn't come easy. And it was more than luck.
He'd always felt they had someone greater than them watching out for them. He and Deb had been greatly blessed along the way.
They'd also broken their backs trying to keep their marriage afloat.
Even soul mates had to work at it.
He tucked in his shirt and picked up the phone.
Deb's voice was sleepy but he didn't think he'd awakened her.
"Hi, babe."
"Good morning."
"How late were you gals up last night?"
"Your mother was asleep by ten. But Angie and I stayed up, talking."
"Solving all her problems?"
"Geez, what a great way to start the day, honey. Give me some credit. I'm not telling anyone what to do anymore."
Will stifled the chuckle that boiled up in his throat. The day Deb stopped caring about their children's happiness was a day he hoped would never come.
"You don't believe me, do you, Will?"
"Sure I do."
"Yeah, right. How does it look over there?"
Will raised his shades and stared out the huge pane of glass that comprised one wall of his office.
"Snow's still falling." The flakes weren't coming down as furiously as last night; he could see the street-lights' dim glow. But the snow fell nonetheless.
"Same here. It's supposed to stop by noon."
"Yeah. I should be home by seven or eight, as long as the temperatures hold and they get this cleaned up."
"I miss you, Will."
"I know."
"Who's at the office with you?"
"Chuck and Vanessa. Everyone else is in Arizona for that conference." The one he'd passed on. More and more he didn't want to travel if he didn't have to. Being home with Deb meant more to him.
"Hmm. I'll bet she'd she'd love to have breakfast with you." love to have breakfast with you."
Will grunted. When it came to women he worked with, he'd learned the less said, the better.
"Sorry. You know I trust you, don't you?"
"Yes, of course." And she had no reason not to.
"It's just that I was a young woman once, and I understand the attraction an older man holds. The experience, the worldly knowledge."
"Maybe we'll get her to take a second look at Chuck."
"She needs someone her own age. Someone she can grow old with."
Deb didn't have to say "like us." Will knew what she meant.
"Well, I'd better have some coffee and get going on my work. If I can get out of here earlier, I will."
"Be safe, honey. I'll call you later."
"Bye."
"Bye."
Will smiled at the phone. God, he wished he was home. Funny how things worked out. As a young man getting his business off the ground, he'd certainly found home a comfort, but he'd also looked forward to the office every day. Especially when the kids were young.
He had to hand it to Deb-he couldn't have stayed home in what often seemed to be total chaos. Yet Deb had done it and done it well. She thrived on the constant change and activity, even managed to keep her art going, albeit on a part-time basis for a while there.
Now, as an older guy, he liked home best. He had an office there and worked in it whenever he could, when he didn't have to come in to the downtown location.
But Deb wanted to get out more, probably because she'd been home all those years. It was as though their roles had been reversed.
He understood, but at times it perplexed him that she didn't want to stay in more, with him.
Maybe he needed to give her a reason....
A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
"Good morning, Will."
Vanessa entered. Her blouse had been pressed and her skirt showed nary a wrinkle. She even had her high-heeled shoes back on.
"Good morning, Vanessa."
"I figured you'd like some coffee." She handed him a steaming mug and set a plate with a bagel and cream cheese on the service table near his chair.
"Thanks, but you didn't have to do this." Usually Lori, his personal assistant, took care of the coffee, but she hadn't made it into work since the day before yesterday. She lived south of the city, and they usually got the brunt of the lake-effect storms.
"I wanted to."
She smiled at him and Will wondered, not for the first time, if she realized she acted like a doe in heat around him. Or maybe she did this around all the men in the office-he hadn't bothered to take note.
"I'm going to wrap up the plans for the mall in Schenectady. I'll have them on your desk by close of business today."
"Fine. But keep an eye on the weather. If we can leave earlier, we will. We all need a break, and I don't want to risk being stuck here again tonight."
Disappointment flickered in her brown eyes, but Will gave her credit for masking it with a weak smile.
"Sure thing."
She turned and left and started to shut his door.
"Leave it open, Vanessa."
"No problem."
Will went to his desk and fired up his computer. Thank God they hadn't lost power this time out. As far as Buffalo storms went, this was proving to be a manageable one.
ANGIE WATCHED VI DOZE on the sofa, wrapped in the tattered shawl Mom had made her years ago. Her face was soft, even with the lines of her life etched across it.
Angie finished her coffee and looked around. Mom had already disappeared into her studio.
Angie found her there, on her stool in front of the weaving frame, her tapestry almost finished.
"It's beautiful, Mom." Angie studied the colors of the sunrise over the Buffalo skyline; it served as the backdrop to a huge maple tree, divided into the four seasons-bare branches, buds and "helicopter" seeds, green glossy leaves, flamboyant autumnal hues.
Angie laughed, and Debra looked up and offered her a smile.
"Good morning, sweetheart. What's so funny?"
"The twins and I used to play for hours with the maple seeds-we called them 'helicopters.' Do you remember, Mom?"
Debra chuckled as she kept weaving. "What I remember is finding the boys with firecrackers right after they blew up their G.I. Joe fort in the sandbox."
Angie giggled. "I was hiding in the shed-who do you think gave them the matches?"