At the sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive, Charlotte grabbed her things and hurried to the front door in time to see her niece climbing out of her sunflower-yellow VW Beetle. Falling in line with Jenna’s somewhat quirky personality, large magnets in the shape of white and yellow daisies decorated the doors and hood of the adorable vehicle.
Flowers weren’t Jenna’s only mode of decorating her beloved bug, though. At Easter, she used a nose, tail, and ears to make the car look like a bunny rabbit; at Halloween, a broom and the back end of a witch’s robe would appear as though sticking out of the rear hatch; at Christmas, it was antlers and a bright red Rudolph nose.
Charlotte loved to see Jenna’s happy yellow Beetle coming up the drive, never knowing what amusing guise the little VW would be wearing.
Today, Jenna herself was dressed in dark blue jeans that flared at the calf and sparkled at the thighs and pockets with a mixture of rhinestones and silver studs. Her blouse was sage green and cut in a tank-top style, made of some soft, flowing, almost diaphanous material that was so popular these days. Never mind that one could almost see a girl’s bits and pieces and skimpy brassieres underneath.
And as usual, Jenna also had a boa wrapped loosely around her neck in blending hues of green, yellow, and brown that perfectly matched her blouse.
“Hello, dear!” Charlotte called as she pushed through the front screen door and bustled down from the porch.
Jenna smiled and raised a hand to wave before reaching into the back seat for her overnight bag.
“You ready to go?” Jenna asked as Charlotte crossed the yard to greet her.
Charlotte ’s head bobbed up and down. “The station wagon and U-Haul are both stuffed to the gills. As soon as you’re settled, I’ll be on my way.”
“If you’re in a hurry to get going, don’t let me hold you up,” Jenna said. She cocked a hip into the car door to slam it closed behind her and turned to face her aunt, rainbow-striped valise in one hand. “I know my way around, and some of the girls are coming over tomorrow night to keep me company.”
“Oh, good! And you know where everything is, right? Even in the barn?”
Jenna’s lips curved indulgently. “Don’t worry, Aunt Charlotte, your babies are safe with me. I’ll take good care of them, I promise.”
A small weight lifted from Charlotte ’s chest. “Of course you will. I’m sorry, it’s just that I don’t leave them very often, and I’m too used to taking care of them all by myself, I guess.”
“Except when I come over to help you out, which is how I know all of their names, their little quirks, and where everything is that they could possibly need.”
Jenna leaned in and Charlotte hugged her back, then let her niece herd her toward her late-model station wagon. It was sort of a buzzard barf brown, according to Jenna, with the prerequisite faux wood side panels. A “woody,” as they used to say… though the last time she’d called it that, her niece’s cheeks had turned bubblegum pink and she’d been quietly informed that “woody” was a term currently reserved for a rather private, highly aroused portion of the male anatomy. Charlotte hadn’t referred to her station wagon in that manner since.
Jenna often told her she should trade the outdated rattletrap in-if a dealer was even willing to take it-and find something a little more modern and reliable to get around in. But Charlotte liked her wagon. It had plenty of space and got her where she needed to go, which was all she required of her mode of transportation these days.
Vinyl seat squeaking as she climbed behind the wheel, Charlotte deposited her purse on the passenger-side floor before fitting the key into the ignition.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” She hadn’t, of course, but the more spontaneous her gift seemed, the better.
Taking the skein of purple yarn from her lap, she held it out to Jenna. “I made this for you. Thought it might give you something to do while I’m away and you’re in that big old house all by yourself.”
Jenna took the yarn, running a few of the fringe-like strands between her fingers. “It’s beautiful, thank you. Purple is one of my favorite colors.”
She leaned in to press a kiss to her aunt’s cheek, then straightened and pushed the door closed.
“Drive carefully,” she said through the open window. “And good luck with the show. I hope you sell out of everything.”
“Me, too, dear. Of course, if that happens, I’ll just have to start all over again.”
One corner of her niece’s mouth quirked up in a grin. “Yes, but you love every minute of it.”
“You know I do,” Charlotte returned with a grin of her own. She cranked the engine and waited for the low throb to vibrate along the car’s long metal frame all the way to her posterior. “All right, then, I’m off. You take care, and if you need anything… Well, I don’t have a cell phone, so if you need anything, you’re going to have to run to someone else. But I will call as often as I can to check in.”
“I’ll be fine. And so will the alpacas. You just go and have fun.”
With a nod, Charlotte put the car in gear and rolled slowly out of her drive. She eased the wagon and U-Haul onto the dirt road, kicking up dust and waving into her rearview mirror at Jenna, who stood where she’d left her, enchanted yarn clasped tightly in one hand.
Charlotte hoped for a lot of things for this trip. Safe traveling, high-volume sales of her hand-spun yarns and knit goods… but most of all, she hoped for a very special man to appear in her niece’s life. One who would take the shadows from her eyes and make her smile-really smile-the way she hadn’t since her separation from Gage.
It was a lot to ask of one tiny skein of yarn.
But the spinning wheel had worked its magic before, and Charlotte was confident it would do so again.
Knit 1
The Rob Thomas/Santana collaboration “Smooth” rocked from the small radio/CD player Jenna had set up on her aunt’s kitchen counter, cranked up high enough to be heard and thoroughly enjoyed over the loud whir of the blender. The girls would be here any minute, and she wanted to have the margaritas mixed and ready to go.
Hips twitching in time with the heavy Latin beat, she punched the blender’s off button and popped the lid, dipping her finger in for a tiny taste.
Mmm, perfect. Mango was definitely a good choice to start. She also had lime, lemon, pineapple, and watermelon-flavored mixes on hand, and all the tequila they could possibly need to make Mexican Night mucho, mucho ay caramba!
Even over the bass of the song and her own humming, Jenna heard the insistent pounding on the front door. She slid the volume dial to a slightly less molar-rattling level and ran to answer it.
The minute she turned the knob, Grace and Ronnie spilled into the house, arms loaded with paper sacks, fabric totes, and bottles dangling from their fingers.
A dozen delicious aromas wafted around them, making Jenna’s stomach growl. She’d barely eaten a thing all day, knowing they’d be stuffing themselves this evening with enough calories to make the local circus come looking to recruit them to take over the Fat Lady’s tent.
“We’re here,” Grace announced somewhat breathlessly. “Let the fiesta begin!”
Laughing, Jenna took a few items from each of them to lighten their loads and led the way to the kitchen.
“I’ve got a pitcher of mango margaritas mixed already, but that’s about it.”
“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Ronnie said, dumping her bags on the island countertop. “To do whatever it takes to get this party started.”
Out of long practice and many Girls’ Night get-togethers, they moved around the kitchen as a unit, opening drawers and cupboards, organizing things just the way they wanted them.
Blond and stunningly beautiful, Grace Fisher was everything Jenna wished she could be-tall and lithe, confident, successful, happy… She was the host of her own local cable talk show, recently renamed “Amazing Grace” in honor of the nickname viewers had bestowed upon her practically from the very beginning. On camera, at least, Grace seemed capable of just about anything, from baking and decorating a three-tiered wedding cake to changing the oil and spark plugs in her car.