Part Five of “The Red Sweater” A Serial

During the month of April I participated in the A to Z blogging challenge.  A first for me, I attempted fiction for the first time.  I had such fun with it that I decided to give it another go.

This time I will be writing a serial type of story.
As I meander through my imagination, I expect an episode to take shape in time to be posted each Tuesday.  

If you would like to catch up, simply click on the “Red Sweater Serial Tab” at the top of my blog. 

The Red Sweater

Part Five 

Evie sat on the stool behind the counter, staring into space.  She was having a hard time concentrating on the inventory report and there were four boxes of yarn to unpack in the stock room.
Ed had gone out.   He told Evie that he was going to take a walk down to Uncle Pete’s deli.
“What would you like for lunch, Eve?” he asked before he left.
He was wearing his red sweater.  It was one of Rachel’s creations.  He had been in a panic earlier that morning when he thought it was missing.   He finally found it hanging on the back of his chair in the study.
Hand knit sweaters, in any shade of red, designed by Rachel was her way of showing affection and appreciation for those she cared most about.
“For my heart’s love” she would say.
Rachel tried to entice Evie to learn to knit.  She was a patient teacher.
“I’ll cast on for you,” she would say.  “And I’ll even start a few rows,” Rachel said, trying her best to convince her sister.
Then she would hand the ball of yarn and a pair of wooden needles over to Evie.
"Okay, hold the left needle like this.  That’s it, wrap your fingers around it and secure the stitches with your thumb.  Hold the other needle in your right hand the same way, with your thumb on top.”
Rachel made it look so easy.  But when Evie did she felt like she was all thumbs.
Evie remembered when Rachel first took up knitting.  It was in the late 70s.  Evie was sixteen, Rachel fifteen.
Rachel was trying to think of a unique gift for Sam’s mother, Marge.  Well, it wasn’t actually for Marge, but for the baby Marge was carrying.
“I’m going to knit a sweater.  A little red sweater for Marge’s baby, she told Evie.”
“You don’t even know how to knit, Rach,” Evie said.
“No,  big deal,” she told Evie.  “I bought a ‘How to Knit' book.  And I used to watch Grandma all the time. Remember the socks she made for us?”
Rachel and Sam were teenagers in love.  Marge was like a second mother to Rachel.  She could talk to Marge about anything.  Not something she could do always with their own mother.
Then one day, Marge, Sam and Sam’s father suddenly left town.
“I don’t understand, Evie,” Rachel sobbed.  “Why would they just leave like that?  They didn’t even say good-bye.”
She did not want Rachel to be sad. Evie did her best to console her younger sister.
“Come on, Rach, let’s go to the movies.”
Rachel would sigh, “No, I’m not in the mood.”
“Hey, how about if we go to Pinky’s and split a Belly Buster.”
But all Rachel wanted to do was work on the little red sweater.  It was to be the first of many she would eventually make to give away as gifts.
And then, years later, fate stepped in.
“I’m back, Eve,” called Ed.  “Got your BLT on rye toast, light on the mayo.”
“Let’s sit out front,” said Ed.
They sat in the white slat rockers, quietly eating their sandwiches, each distracted by their own thoughts.
“Ed?”
“Huh?  What is it?”
“I was thinking that maybe we should take a little vacation.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Eve.  Rachel is away.  We can’t leave the shop, you know.”
“Eve?” Ed hesitated before saying, “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Evie held her breath.
Her phone rang.  It was her mother.
“Evie, sweetie?  Can you come by later?  There’s something I have to tell you. "

Part Four The Red Sweater Serial

During the month of April I participated in the A to Z blogging challenge.  A first for me, I attempted fiction for the first time.  I had such fun with it that I decided to give it another go.

This time I will be writing a serial type of story.

As I meander through my imagination, I expect an episode to take shape in time to be posted each Tuesday.  (Oops, a day late this week.)
If you would like to catch up simply click on the “Red Sweater Serial Tab” at the top of the blog. 

Part Four

When is Mary going to come help me out of bed? Adele impatiently thought, as she looked at her watch for the fourth time.
This was the day that the doctor was going to take the cast off of Adele’s ankle.
A youthful looking, active woman, Adele would be turning 75 in a few months.  She walked 2 miles every day, rain or shine.
She gave up dying her hair years ago and usually wore her shoulder length pure white hair tied back in girlish pony tail.
She and Jane, her best friend and next door neighbor, were on one of their walks on the “path” the day that she had the accident.
The “path” as it was commonly known by the locals, was a groomed 8 mile nature trail maintained by the town.  It meandered along the old abandoned railroad tracks.
She clearly recalled the details of that day.
They had been walking at a steady pace, chatting away, when Jane let out a scream.  Startled, Adele literally jumped backwards.  The next thing Adele knew, she was on the ground, her foot twisted underneath her body.
The reason for the scream was a fallen tree branch that Jane mistook for a snake.  Another indication that Jane’s eyesight was beginning to fail.
As Jane tried to help her up, Adele gasped with pain when she attempted to put her foot down.  With Adele’s arm flung over Jane’s shoulder and Jane’s arm wrapped tightly around Adele’s waist, the two women managed to get back to the car, Adele hobbling on one foot the whole way.
Adele had been laid up with her injury for the past six weeks.
This was the first time she could remember having to be still for such a long period of time.
“Addie, don’t let the grass grow under those feet,” Bob used to tease her.
Even when everyone, including herself,  had the flu that time, Adele managed to take care of Bob and the girls, sneaking in a few minutes of rest when she could.
Now, comforted by the warmth of the sun room, she spent hours sitting, staring out at the clouds and reflecting back on her life.
The accident had made Adele realize that she was vulnerable and that she was not invincible.
She was anxious for Rachel to get back.   Adele knew the time was right to tell her youngest daughter the truth.  
She was afraid.  She wondered if Rachel would understand why Adele had lied to her.   She worried that  her daughter might never be able to forgive her.
Bob hadn’t agreed with the decision. He and Adele had argued many times over it.  Adele was strong willed and usually got her way, especially with Bob and eventually he gave in.  The only way Adele would agree to the “arrangement” was with the stipulation that she and Bob had to be informed of the details, all of them.
Spending most days of the past weeks in this room awakened memories of that time.
Adele reminisced about cool spring days of so many years ago.   Rachel would sit in this very sun room after school doing homework.  Some afternoons Rachel would sit propped up against the sofa at Adele’s feet, her head resting in her mother’s lap.   As she wound a loose tendril of Rachel’s silky hair around her finger Adele was reminded of tiny baby fists.
Rachel, barely into her teens, taught herself to knit.  Adele recalled the day she and Rachel were browsing in the yarn shop.
Rachel selected two skeins of soft, squishy “Persimmon Red”.
“That’s an unusual color, choice sweetie,” Adele said to her daughter.
She tried to entice her with pastels like “Petal Yellow” or “Minty Green”.
“No.”  Rachel insisted, "It must be ‘Persimmon Red’, for my heart’s love.”
Adele affectionally recalled the determined look of concentration on Rachel’s face.  Her brow furrowed, her lips barely moving as she counted under her breath,”Knit two, purl two, knit two, purl two.”  Soon the sweater began to take shape.
Mary knocked on the bedroom door calling, “Morning, Addie.   Time to get ready to go to the doctor’s.”
Adele’s phone rang.  Rachel’s number displayed on the screen.
“Mom?”  Rachel voice sounded strange.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  You knew.  All of these years and you knew.”

Bathing Suit Update - Which One Did I Choose?

In my last post I wrote about shopping online for bathing suits.  I promised I would provide an update once I received the suits and tried them on.
Recap: I ordered three suits from Amazon.  The manufacturer is Cocoship.
The price of each of the suites was around $24.00.
A general opinion about all three.
Quality: I would rate the quality of the suits as fair.  If, like me, you are going to be using these in a chlorine filtered pool, the suits are most likely only going to be one season suits. They were worth the $24.00.
Fit: Personally they were true to a size I would normally wear.  The material is soft and silky.  I felt comfortable in the suits.
Vanity: Since not one of the three invisible models shown below have an ounce of fat, and I have more than an ounce, and since their curves are all in the right places and mine have shifted somewhat,  I have to say the suits were more flattering to their figures than they were to mine.  :)

Suit No. 1

I would give suit No. 1 ☆ ☆ ☆ out of 5.
I liked the cut of the “boy short" style bottoms.
The top’s peek-a-boo cut out was too revealing for my taste.

Suit No. 2

I would give suit No. 2 ☆☆☆ out of 5.
This is the suit I was hoping would have been the one for me.  It wasn’t.
Because the bottoms have a high waist line and shirring,  the style does hide certain problem areas, mainly stomach.
However the top, again was too revealing for my taste.

Suit No. 3

I would give suit No. 3 ☆☆☆☆ out of 5.
It’s the one I will keep.
First, I like the vintage style cherry pattern of the fabric.
The waist is shirred, which is a great concealer.
The top is modest enough for my taste.
I have already worn this to water aerobics and I felt comfortable.

By the way, Ross thought I looked great in all three.
But,  I made him take photos of me wearing each of the suits, front, side and back.
Ross, you are sweet.  And I especially am grateful that your eyes are aging more gracefully than I am.

Now I just have to figure out how to return the other two suits.