Read Online Kate Jacobs by The Friday Night Knitting Club - [The Friday Night Knitting Club 01] - Free Book Online
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might
begin whatever chat she had prepared, though there were many nights when she
didn't even get to it, so busy was she sorting out everyone's individual
mistakes or lending a sympathetic ear as someone (more often than not it was
K.C.) related the bad dates and work mishaps of a busy week.
* * *
What they needed was a plan. A pattern. An
organization.
* * *
"Everyone?" said Georgia. "I was
thinking it might be nice to all work on one project together."
"Like the archaic model of the quilting bee?" asked Darwin.
"Um, that's actually quite effective—and fun, if you're a quilter,"
Georgia told the academic. Then she turned to face the group. "I know a
lot of you pop in to work on your own projects—which is great, you're more than
welcome—and I know we have knitters of all different levels. But for those of
you willing to try it, I thought it would be neat if we all took up the same
pattern. That way, the beginners could really watch the more experienced
knitters. And it might be easier on Anita!"
Her silver-haired mentor came over to stand beside her. "I think it's a
great idea," she said, then whispered to Georgia: "I'm glad to see
you're really getting involved!"
"And I'll offer a ten percent discount on all the wool you need,"
concluded Georgia. "Are you in?"
A few steps over to some of her beginner's pattern books, and Georgia had
selected a stockinette -stitch sweater with a garter hem
and a slashed-neck opening—eliminating any need for round needles or extra
finishing on the neckline. It was basic, looked good, and would be more than
challenging for the beginners while being easy and relaxing for the experienced
knitters like Lucie.
She was unusually quiet tonight. Georgia watched Lucie sit with her hands in
her lap for a full fifteen minutes, staring out the window, before she picked
up her needles. And the grocery bag? Lucie was always so put together, but
tonight she looked as though she had gotten dressed in stuff from her father's
closet. Her top seemed to be several sizes too big and her usually manicured
nails were chipped. She looked…tired. Still, Georgia didn't disturb her
reverie. She understood when life could feel so overwhelming. Was Dakota
laughing her way through a plate of fries and ketchup, a little dash of vinegar
on the top? "Ha, ha, Daddy, you're so funny," she might be saying.
"Mom's always cranky and she works all the time. Will you buy me a bike?"
Georgia felt hot, stood up, mumbled something about needing to check something
in the office, and took a few steps across the room to the door, absentmindedly
thinking about locking it early. She figured everyone who was going to show up
for club was already there.
Just then the door flew open and Georgia was knocked to her knees as a figure
barreled past her into the shop. " Robberrrr …!"
warbled the intruder, as though announcing her intentions. She seemed to be
pushing forward, pointing to the back of Darwin's long, dark hair; something
glinting in her hands. "What the…?!" screamed Georgia. As if in slow
motion, she felt herself twist, then dive at the person's legs to knock her
down. "Help me!" she screamed, as chairs tipped over and the women
ran to her aid. Papers seemed to fly around the room. Everyone was yelling; the
intruder was kicking near her face. "Help!" "Call the
police!" "Keep her down!" "Georgia, oh, my God!"
"Nine-one-one!" " Robberrrr !"
Suddenly K.C. was sitting on the struggling figure. The body was noisy,
snuffling and screaming. Georgia felt herself being pulled up, was surprised to
be upright, to feel Anita's familiar hand rubbing her back. The faces of her
friends and customers stared at her and then at the floor. She looked down.
And there, in a lump, lay the mystery shopper from the afternoon. The crazy
redhead. Though now her newsboy cap was halfway across the room, no doubt
kicked about in the commotion. The group kept her down easily; the girl was
slight. Mascara and tears ran down her cheeks; her
begin whatever chat she had prepared, though there were many nights when she
didn't even get to it, so busy was she sorting out everyone's individual
mistakes or lending a sympathetic ear as someone (more often than not it was
K.C.) related the bad dates and work mishaps of a busy week.
* * *
What they needed was a plan. A pattern. An
organization.
* * *
"Everyone?" said Georgia. "I was
thinking it might be nice to all work on one project together."
"Like the archaic model of the quilting bee?" asked Darwin.
"Um, that's actually quite effective—and fun, if you're a quilter,"
Georgia told the academic. Then she turned to face the group. "I know a
lot of you pop in to work on your own projects—which is great, you're more than
welcome—and I know we have knitters of all different levels. But for those of
you willing to try it, I thought it would be neat if we all took up the same
pattern. That way, the beginners could really watch the more experienced
knitters. And it might be easier on Anita!"
Her silver-haired mentor came over to stand beside her. "I think it's a
great idea," she said, then whispered to Georgia: "I'm glad to see
you're really getting involved!"
"And I'll offer a ten percent discount on all the wool you need,"
concluded Georgia. "Are you in?"
A few steps over to some of her beginner's pattern books, and Georgia had
selected a stockinette -stitch sweater with a garter hem
and a slashed-neck opening—eliminating any need for round needles or extra
finishing on the neckline. It was basic, looked good, and would be more than
challenging for the beginners while being easy and relaxing for the experienced
knitters like Lucie.
She was unusually quiet tonight. Georgia watched Lucie sit with her hands in
her lap for a full fifteen minutes, staring out the window, before she picked
up her needles. And the grocery bag? Lucie was always so put together, but
tonight she looked as though she had gotten dressed in stuff from her father's
closet. Her top seemed to be several sizes too big and her usually manicured
nails were chipped. She looked…tired. Still, Georgia didn't disturb her
reverie. She understood when life could feel so overwhelming. Was Dakota
laughing her way through a plate of fries and ketchup, a little dash of vinegar
on the top? "Ha, ha, Daddy, you're so funny," she might be saying.
"Mom's always cranky and she works all the time. Will you buy me a bike?"
Georgia felt hot, stood up, mumbled something about needing to check something
in the office, and took a few steps across the room to the door, absentmindedly
thinking about locking it early. She figured everyone who was going to show up
for club was already there.
Just then the door flew open and Georgia was knocked to her knees as a figure
barreled past her into the shop. " Robberrrr …!"
warbled the intruder, as though announcing her intentions. She seemed to be
pushing forward, pointing to the back of Darwin's long, dark hair; something
glinting in her hands. "What the…?!" screamed Georgia. As if in slow
motion, she felt herself twist, then dive at the person's legs to knock her
down. "Help me!" she screamed, as chairs tipped over and the women
ran to her aid. Papers seemed to fly around the room. Everyone was yelling; the
intruder was kicking near her face. "Help!" "Call the
police!" "Keep her down!" "Georgia, oh, my God!"
"Nine-one-one!" " Robberrrr !"
Suddenly K.C. was sitting on the struggling figure. The body was noisy,
snuffling and screaming. Georgia felt herself being pulled up, was surprised to
be upright, to feel Anita's familiar hand rubbing her back. The faces of her
friends and customers stared at her and then at the floor. She looked down.
And there, in a lump, lay the mystery shopper from the afternoon. The crazy
redhead. Though now her newsboy cap was halfway across the room, no doubt
kicked about in the commotion. The group kept her down easily; the girl was
slight. Mascara and tears ran down her cheeks; her
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