Blogging from A to Z Challenge
This month I will be participating in the “Blogging from A-Z Challenge”
What is it?
Blogging every day. It begins on April First with a topic themed on something with the letter A, then on April second another topic with the letter B as the theme, and so on until I finish on April thirtieth with the theme based on the letter Z. The theme of the day is the letter scheduled for that day.
This is a fictional piece.
Part one can be found here: Fran, The Fingerless Gloves and The Fisherman
She tried to reassure herself. No, it couldn't be she thought.
Fran slowly turned around and saw the fisherman struggling to climb up the steep sand dune.
As he got closer, she squinted and raised her hand up to shade her eyes from the bright sun, trying to see if it was him.
But by then she already knew that it was. It was Tom. He was the only one who ever called her Frankie.
She wanted to run. Run as fast as she could, down the planked path to the parking lot.
But she was frozen and like a deer caught in the headlights, she couldn't move.
Two years ago was the last time she had seen him.
As she waited for him to make his way towards her she thought about the day they first met.
January 14. She would never forget it.
It had been a cold dank morning with a smokey gray snow sky. She remembered shivering as she waited outside of the rehab for Gina to pick her up to bring her to the half-way house.
Tom was the one who had greeted them at the front door.
Fran had barely noticed him, though. She had been too nervous and afraid. She didn't want to be there. She didn't want Gina to leave.
"I'll come by tomorrow," promised Gina.
"Can't you stay? Just a little longer?" Fran begged.
"Listen, Fran, you're going to be fine. I just know it."
"Besides, I have the group waiting for me. You know we are going to be finishing up our gloves tonight," Gina said.
Tom was now on the wooden deck at the top of the dunes, only a few yards from her. Fran clutched her hands together, her bare fingers peeked out of the faded red fingerless gloves.
The gloves were a gift from Gina.
"They're beautiful," exclaimed Fran when Gina gave them to her.
"I knit them just for you, Fran," said Gina.
"Do you think I can learn to do that?" asked Fran.
At first, Fran could hardly keep her shaky hands still enough to hold onto the wooden needles.
But Gina would put her hands over Fran's to guide her through the stitches.
"First, make an X with the needles, like this," Gina said, demonstrating.
"You see, the needle in your right hand goes into the loop on the left needle. That's it, place the right needle behind the left."
"No, no, it has to go behind the one in your left, like an X," Gina patiently explained.
"Here's an easy way to remember," said Gina.
In a sing-song voice, Gina chanted,
"In through the front door,
Run around the back,
Hop through the window,
Off jumps Jack."
"That's it!" You've got it!" exclaimed Gina when Fran completed her first stitch.
She remembered the very first thing she made. It was a garter stitch scarf in scratchy blue wool.
By the time she finished it, the scarf was full of holes where she'd dropped stitches and one side was uneven.
Gina made a fuss over it, though, praising Fran for not giving up.
It made Fran begin to have hope that this time she might also be able to stick with the program.
Gina and knitting. The were now the tightly interwoven threads of Fran's complex life.
He stood in front of her.
She lifted her eyes to look up at him.
He was wearing the blue scarf.
K is for Knitting, why of course!