‘What film?’
‘You know, the Tom Hanks one… and whatshername… Meg Ryan.’
‘You’ve Got Mail?’
‘That’s it. I never did understand why she fell in love with him when his enormous book store put her beautiful little Shop Around the Corner out of business.’
Robert and two other guests came into the kitchen from the living room to top up their drinks and see if there was anything they could do to help. Violet and Cleo made small talk with them, but Violet shooed them away as quickly as she could so they could continue gossiping.
‘All I’m saying is that this isn’t the movies,’ said Violet. ‘As lovely as he seems, the man is essentially taking away your livelihood.’ She put a pan of water on to boil for the green beans.
‘I don’t know.’ Cleo sighed. ‘Perhaps it was time anyway. The Little Knitting Box is my life now, but maybe it’s been my safety net for too long. I left England without having the time to pause and think about what my life had become. I was a sad, twenty-nine-year-old divorcée, and I’d screwed up the only decent relationship I’d ever had.’
‘Wait a minute. He cheated on you, so how was it your fault?’
Cleo had told Violet enough over the years and one look conveyed what she was thinking. He may have been unfaithful, but she’d driven him to it with her distance, her emotions, her pushing away.
‘It’s still no excuse to cheat,’ Violet concluded.
‘We had a date… Dylan and I… before I knew he was the owner of the business.’
‘Oh?’ Violet brightened.
‘It ended with us on speaking terms and friendly, and we’re both still keen to see each other.’
‘Well I never. The Cleo I first met and who’d had her heart broken didn’t believe in second chances on any level.’
‘I felt for him, you know?’ Cleo stood out of the way when Violet checked the honey glazed carrots and then moved on to drain the potatoes. ‘He lost his dad and his mum was buried recently. He has two kids and an ex-wife and he’s trying to do the right thing.’
Violet poured the potatoes into the stainless steel contraption and then hugged Cleo. ‘Well, you’re a better woman than I am. I’d be livid.’
‘Thanks, I think.’
‘So, if you think letting the Little Knitting Box go is the right thing to do, what will you do instead? You’ve got a good business there and I can’t see you leaving behind your passion for knitting.’
Cleo smiled. ‘I would never do that. But I haven’t weighed up all my options yet. Letting it go is only one course of action, but it’s good to talk to you about it.’
Violet’s eyebrows knitted together. ‘I doubt I’m much help.’
‘It’s good to talk to someone impartial, even if you’re only listening and not offering advice.’
‘Now you’re making me sound useless.’
Cleo hugged her friend the best she could as the hostess tried to get ready to serve her guests.
‘Come on, you can have a go of this.’ Violet motioned for Cleo to take the handle of what she’d called a food mill. The potatoes were suspended on a sieve-like plate but with bigger holes. ‘Just turn the handle and the potatoes will go through to the bottom.’
Cleo did just that and grinned at the strings of potatoes appearing the other side. ‘It seems a complicated way of mashing up some potatoes.’
‘Not at all! It’s far easier than using a masher and it guarantees no lumps.’
‘I’m afraid I’ll need proof.’ When Cleo had finished, she took the food mill away and added the awaiting cream and butter. Once she’d mixed it she grabbed another spoon and tried a mouthful. ‘Oh my word! It’s heavenly.’
‘Told you.’ Violet took the bowl and scraped the contents into a serving dish hot from the oven. ‘Now stop eating them and make yourself useful. Take those through to the dining table and come back for the carrots and beans. I’ll bring the turkey through so if you could grab the carving tools, that’d be great.’ She tilted her head towards the two-piece, walnut carving set on the countertop by the back door. Cleo had bought the tools from Williams-Sonoma as a special gift for Violet’s birthday last year, a month before Thanksgiving, but was yet to see the tools in action.
Thanksgiving dinner passed with plenty of food, chatter, and laughter, and Cleo knew how lucky she was to be among friends. Robert took charge of the clearing up as Cleo and the rest of the party flopped into sofas or on armchairs or declared they needed a post-feast walk before they could even think about dessert.
Cleo chose to stay behind as some of Violet’s friends left for their walk, and she looked out of the window. The sky had grown dark already and had the promise of snow in the air, although Cleo knew it was just a teaser tonight. There was no snow forecast yet but the thought of it made her smile. Connecticut looked beautiful beneath a white blanket, New York even more so, especially at first light if you looked out over the streets before vehicles and pedestrians had a chance to alter the picture-postcard scene.
