‘And there’s no way to keep the store here after the year’s extension is up?’ asked Uncle Sid.
Cleo shook her head. ‘The lease is finishing and I’ve come to terms with that. I’m tempted by the possibility of looking further out of New York. But it’d be a huge risk. Online yarn businesses are sprouting up with as much regularity as weeds on an untended lawn, and some days I’ve even wondered how the Little Knitting Box would keep up with the changes in its established position right here.’ Her store was a local icon, knitting groups were popular, but the online yarn businesses offered such huge discounts that sometimes Cleo wondered whether her store was just where people came for their tactile fix. She’d told people about patterns and yarns and they’d been keen, but at the last minute had said they’d think about it. Cleo suspected that was code for they’d go online and see how cheap they could get the yarn instead. It was sad, but also a sign of the times.
Uncle Sid offered the cookies round again and Cleo didn’t miss the look that passed between him and Auntie Faith.
‘What is it?’
‘As we’ve told you,’ he began, ‘we’re hoping to sell the store in the Cotswolds. It was our dream once upon a time, but we want to get out and see a bit of the world before we’re too old.’
‘Do you have a buyer?’
They looked at one another again.
‘We were wondering…’ Auntie Faith set down her cup, ‘…in light of what’s happening here, whether you’d like to take over our knitting store. It’s your decision, and there’s no pressure, but if you decide to return to England in the New Year, we’d love for you to take over the business. It’s established, you have a readymade clientele, so the offer is there.’
Cleo was truly lost for words. She stood there staring at them both, looking around the back room, vaguely aware of customers in her own store now.
Auntie Faith took her niece’s hand. ‘What do you say, Cleo? Is that a yes?’
21
STAMFORD, CONNECTICUT
Ruby’s nativity at the church that morning went without a hitch. Dylan and Prue had nabbed seats in the second row from the front, seeing as they’d got there so early, and Ruby had played the part of the innkeeper with gusto. Her voice had boomed around the audience, giving some of the grandparents quite a shock, and with a few laughs in the nativity including the part where the donkey split in half showing which two kids made up the animal. It’d been wonderful to watch. Dylan had looked at Prue midway through, glad to see her eyes were where they should be, straight ahead, on her daughter, applauding in all the right bits. He’d watched her, glad she was finally being the mom, wholeheartedly.
Prue had raced off straight after she’d hugged Ruby and told her well done, and now, with his daughter at a friend’s birthday party and Dylan back in the church hall ready to watch Jacob’s performance in the afternoon nativity, he checked his phone. There was a text from Prue that she’d sent an hour ago to say she’d be there, but watching the door and people coming through, none of them blonde and stunning and anything like his ex-wife, his hopes were beginning to fade. And by the time the lights dimmed and the curtain went up to reveal the opening scene, he realised she wasn’t coming.
‘You were brilliant!’ He hugged his son close the second Jacob came off stage. He’d seen him scanning the audience for his mom and it had broken his heart. He’d willed Jacob to continue on stage no matter what, and his son had played his part perfectly. ‘I could hear your singing voice,’ Dylan enthused, ‘it was almost as good as mine when I sing in the shower.’
Jacob hugged his leg. ‘Where’s mom?’
‘She got held up.’ He kept his voice calm, although he felt anything but. He’d rather Prue hadn’t made Ruby’s nativity either, that way at least both kids were treated the same. But Jacob had sat next to his mom at his sister’s performance and chattered on about how excited he was about his own.
Dylan’s heart broke for his son. On the way out to the car, he tried to placate a distraught Jacob. The boy was close to tears and Dylan was trying everything he could to prevent them from falling, but perhaps the boy needed a damn good cry, just like Dylan needed to yell at Prue.
When they reached the house and pulled into the drive, the second they stepped out of the car into the cold and the misty rain, Prue pulled up behind them. Jacob ran straight to her.
‘I’m so sorry.’ She hugged Jacob, and Dylan went to the porch, unlocked the door, and turned off the alarm. He wasn’t interested in excuses.
‘I got stuck in an important meeting,’ Prue said the second she was inside the house. ‘I thought I’d be able to get away but I couldn’t just walk out.’
‘Yes you could.’
‘No, I couldn’t! This is my job now, Dylan!’
‘Don’t shout at me in my own house.’ He looked down at Jacob who was following the exchange.
‘Mom said she was sorry.’ Jacob looked so hurt.
‘I know she did.’ He patted his son on the shoulder. ‘How about a chocolate from the tree to say well done for a brilliant performance?’
‘Yeah!’ Given they didn’t usually have them until closer to the big day itself, this was a huge deal for Jacob and enough of a distraction, especially when Dylan called out to him that he could watch cartoons for the afternoon and have two chocolates of his choice.
Prue followed Dylan into the kitchen and put her handbag on the bench. Even that annoyed him. Her perfume had once attracted him, but now he wanted to open all the windows and get rid of the smell. The blonde hair neatly cut into a bob wasn’t something he wanted to run his fingers through any more. He was angry, and more than that, he was upset.
‘How could you do that to him?’ His voice low, he rested his palms on the countertop unable to look at her.
‘I told you, I was in a meet—’
