‘Not since a month or so after the divorce was final. We sent the occasional email and kept things civil, but when I came to New York it was easier to stop contact all together. That way I was looking forward, not back.’ The Little Knitting Box had been part of the path to being independent: after being in a relationship for so long, she didn’t know how to be by herself.
‘You sound like a clever young lady to me,’ said Grandpa Joe.
‘You’re biased.’
‘Hey, you could give up your apartment and move in with me. We’d have a great time.’
‘No offence, but I don’t think you could keep up with my partying lifestyle.’
‘Ha! Now I know you’re winding me up. I get out more than you do!’
‘I went to a party last night, remember?’ She poured them both a glass of water, added a slice of lemon—good for their insides, according to Grandpa Joe—and took them to the table.
‘Oh yes, my addled brain had forgotten about that. How was it?’
‘I socialised, I chatted with people who have probably never picked up knitting needles in their life.’
‘Well, about time.’ He chinked her glass with his. Right from when she was a little girl, it’d been their thing. It used to drive her grandma crazy, especially when she was really little and too enthusiastic and spilt the liquid, or when she would cross a room or put down what she was doing just to honour the ritual. ‘Did you meet anyone interesting at the party?’
She gulped some water. ‘If you mean a man, no I didn’t.’ There were some things she wasn’t about to divulge and given Dylan hadn’t texted her for twenty-four hours now, she suspected he regretted their little—albeit nice—interlude last night.
‘Well, you should. Maggie has a son, about your age—’
‘No matchmaking.’ She was firm. ‘And anyway, back to the matter in question: the store. What am I going to do?’
Grandpa Joe turned his attention to the letter again. ‘I don’t see there’s much you can do. You’ll have to either shut the business or find new premises. Or as you say, do something else entirely.’
‘New premises in Manhattan?’ Cleo shook her head and sighed. ‘The rent’s sky high already and that’s for an established business.’ She wasn’t making huge profit margins after rent and expenses, but it was always enough to pay herself a decent wage and live in the most exciting city in the world. ‘I’m worried that if I move elsewhere, I won’t be able to make the higher rent. It’ll cost to re-establish the Little Knitting Box in a new location.’
She sat back in her chair. ‘I feel like I’ve been on an exciting conveyor belt ever since I arrived here, and I’ve fallen in love with the place, so much so that I haven’t stopped to think of what I’d do if I ever had to leave. I always thought that if I did, it would be my choice, a decision made at leisure.’
‘Life is like that, Buttons.’
Cleo burst out laughing. ‘Nobody has called me that in years!’
‘You’ll always be Buttons to me. I have to force myself to use Cleo and not upset you now that you’re all grown up. Oh, you loved the haberdashery when you first came to visit us all the way from England. Eliza had stocked up on novelty buttons, everything from boats and cars, to flowers, butterflies, and ladybugs. You loved them all. Do you remember begging her to remove the wooden toggles on the navy blue cardigan she’d knitted you and replace them all with a variety of novelty buttons?’
‘I still have that cardigan!’
‘Really?’
‘I loved it. It’s worn and a bit baggy but I always figured I’d…’ Her voice caught. As a seven-year-old she’d made the grown-up decision that this cardigan with its six very different buttons, chosen by herself one day in the Little Knitting Box as she sat on her Grandma Eliza’s knee—a ladybug, a boat, a penguin, mickey mouse, a teddy bear, and an elephant—would never be given away. She’d hold onto it until she had a little baby of her own. It was navy blue so would be good for a girl or a boy, and if ever a button fell off they could traipse the haberdashery stores and find something just as fun to put on.
But that was all before her mum died. It was before her perception of the world changed forever. Even as an eight-year-old she’d understood what was going on, what it all meant, how it changed her dreams of the future, her desire to one day having a little family of her own. And she’d carried those feelings with her ever since, never once going back on the decision she’d made.
‘Life can be full of surprises,’ said Grandpa Joe, ‘and not all of them are good. You need to think about your decision long and hard. Do some research into new premises, look at your sales figures to see if relocating is a viable option, and take it from there. If you want the Little Knitting Box to continue, I’ll support you a hundred per cent, and if you want to call it a day then I’ll support you in that too.’
Cleo hugged her Grandpa. ‘What would I do without you?’
‘What would I do withoutyou, Buttons?’ He hugged her close. ‘Is it okay to call you that from time to time? It’ll take the pressure off if I’m not always worried about slipping up.’
‘Actually, it’s kind of nice and I realise I’ve missed it. It makes me feel young again.’
‘Listen to you, you are young! Now how about a slice of New York’s finest cheesecake?’
Cleo grinned. ‘Something else made by Maggie I assume?’
He winked at her the same way he had when she was a kid, his Buttons, come to visit the Big Apple. ‘I think she likes me.’
