Blossom Street Brides Read Free Page B

customers.
    “Lauren works at John Michael Jewelers.”
    “Oh, yes. I was in the shop not long ago, and she was helpful.”
    “Buying diamonds, are we?” Lydia teased.
    Bethanne sighed. “Max wanted me to pick out something for our first anniversary.” It saddened her that he hadn’t been with her, but their weekend time together was limited. There were far more important matters that needed attention, mainly each other. From the way they acted, one would think they were twenty-year-olds. Max made her feel loved and cherished.
    The shop doorbell jingled as Margaret, Lydia’s older sister, came inside. It was hard to picture the two as siblings. Margaret was big-boned and tall, while Lydia was petite and delicate. That wasn’t the only difference. Their personalities were polar opposites. Lydia was warm and welcoming, and Margaret was a bit gruff, with ragged edges.
    “The weirdest thing just happened,” Margaret said, frowning. “When I got off the bus I saw a woman knitting, but then she left the knitting on the bench to get on the bus.”
    “She left her knitting behind?” Bethanne asked.
    “Yeah, so I stopped her and pointed out that she’d forgotten her knitting, and she said it wasn’t hers.”
    “She was knitting on someone else’s project?” Lydia asked. “Well, that’s odd.”
    “I thought the same thing,” Margaret said. “I mean, really, it’s pretty nervy to just pick up another person’s project and start knitting, don’t you think?”
    Bethanne had to agree.
    “So what did you do?” Lydia asked. She walked around to the cash register and made a notation on a tablet. Bethanne saw that she was noting the baby blanket yarn for her to collect on Thursday. Lauren Elliott’s name was on the list as well.
    Margaret fiddled with the large buttons of her light jacket, slipped it off, and hung it over her arm. “It really wasn’t any of my business, but I couldn’t help myself.”
    “You looked at the knitting.”
    “It was in a basket. A really nice one. It sort of remindedme of one Mom had years ago. I’m sure we sent it to some charity when we moved her into the assisted-living complex. Remember the woven basket with the purple stripe?”
    Lydia shook her head. “No. Mom had all kinds of baskets.”
    “True. Well, never mind, that isn’t important. I lifted out the yarn and needles, and there was a note inside with big letters that said: KNIT ME .”
    “Knit me?” Lydia repeated.
    “Yes. Apparently, someone left this project there on purpose, wanting people to work on it while they wait for the bus.”
    “What is it they’re supposed to be knitting?” Bethanne asked.
    “A scarf. The note said that once it’s finished it will be given to a homeless shelter.”
    Bethanne found this all rather interesting, and, looking at Lydia, asked, “You haven’t heard of anyone doing this before now, have you?”
    “Not a word,” Lydia replied. “But I think it’s a great idea. It’s a wonderful way to help others, and as a bonus, it might get more people interested in knitting.”
    “I hadn’t heard of it, either,” Margaret said, “and here’s the thing. While I was looking at the project on the needles, a woman came up to me and said she saw another basket in the park with the same message.”
    “You mean there’s more than one project out there?”
    “Apparently so.”
    “I wonder how many?”
    Bethanne was amused. “For all we know, they might be all over the city.”
    “I wonder who’s doing this?” Lydia asked. “I mean, I think it’s great, but I’d like to know who came up with this idea.”
    Margaret nodded her head. “Me, too, and whoever it is shops here.”
    “What makes you think that?” Lydia asked, smiling now. “Was the yarn a brand we sell?”
    “We apparently did at one time,” Margaret said, “but it must have been before I came on staff, because I didn’t recognize the name.”
    “Then how did you know it was from A Good Yarn?”