The Knitting Diaries Read online

  Praise for the novels of #1 New York Times

  bestselling author

  “Debbie Macomber is a skilled storyteller.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “You can almost hear the clicking of the knitting needles, smell the unique scent of the yarn and feel as if you are sitting in the corner of A Good Yarn listening in…. It is easy to see why Macomber is a perennial favorite: she writes great books.”

  —RomanceJunkies.com on A Good Yarn

  “Both knitters and non-knitters will find much joy here.”

  —BookReporter.com on The Shop on Blossom Street

  “Debbie Macomber tells women’s stories in a way no one else does.”

  —BookPage

  “Macomber’s assured storytelling and affirming narrative is as welcoming as your favorite easy chair.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Twenty Wishes

  Praise for the novels of Susan Mallery

  “Susan Mallery’s stories will make you fall in love and laugh out loud.”

  —#1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Debbie Macomber

  “The book brims with quick-witted, good-natured characters…their romance grows poignantly and with chemistry to spare.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Chasing Perfect

  “Warm, funny, and sexy, this lighthearted yet touching page-turner is a satisfying, rewarding read and the ‘perfect’ beginning for Mallery’s Fool’s Gold series.”

  —Library Journal on Chasing Perfect

  Praise for the novels of Christina Skye

  “Skye is terrific at writing fast-paced adventure romances.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Code Name: Blondie

  “Christina Skye’s delightfully haunting Draycott Abbey tales pass the test of time, as they remain some of the better romantic fantasies available.”

  —Harriet Klausner on The Draycott Legacy

  “Fast-paced action, vivid detail…and hot lovemaking will please readers.”

  —Booklist on To Catch a Thief

  DEBBIE MACOMBER

  SUSAN MALLERY

  CHRISTINA SKYE

  The Knitting Diaries

  CONTENTS

  THE TWENTY-FIRST WISH

  Debbie Macomber

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  COMING UNRAVELED

  Susan Mallery

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  RETURN TO SUMMER ISLAND

  Christina Skye

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  THE TWENTY-FIRST WISH

  Debbie Macomber

  To

  Candi Jensen

  in gratitude for San Francisco yarn crawls,

  wine on your back porch

  and best of all

  your friendship

  April 2011

  Dear Friends,

  The summer I turned twelve was the first time I picked up a pair of knitting needles. My mother wasn’t a knitter and I pestered her all summer because I so badly wanted to learn. Mom finally broke down and took me to a yarn store, where those wonderful ladies patiently taught me. The first thing I made was a purple vest for my mother—as a thank-you because she found a way for me to knit.

  I believe I inherited my love of craft from my Grandmother Adler, my father’s mother, who died before I could have any memories of her. My older cousins have told me stories about Grandma sitting in her rocking chair, sound asleep and snoring while still crocheting. Yup, Grandma Adler was my kind of woman. Several of the pieces she crocheted have been passed down to us cousins and they are cherished treasures.

  From the time I learned to knit until this very day, I’ve always had a project going. My writing career took a sharp turn upward after The Shop on Blossom Street was published. Combining my passions of knitting and writing was clearly what resonated so strongly with my readers. Knitting was and is an authentic part of my life.

  When knitters get together, surprising things can happen, especially if those knitters also happen to be authors. The idea for this anthology came from Christina Skye, who is highly skilled as both a knitter and a writer. We were on a yarn crawl in San Francisco, driving from yarn store to yarn store with our friend Candi Jensen, when Christina casually said, “We should think about writing a knitting anthology together.” We took the idea to our publisher and from that point forward it was a go. Susan Mallery is a new knitter, but she added some great ideas, so here we are.

  I hope you enjoy The Twenty-First Wish and this return visit with characters from Blossom Street.

  As always I love hearing from my readers. You can reach me at my website at www.DebbieMacomber.com or at P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.

  Okay, needles ready…

  P.S. You might recognize Candi Jensen’s name. She’s the talented producer of the Emmy-nominated PBS series Knit and Crochet Today and one incredible knitter and crocheter.

  Courtney’s Wedding Purse

  MATERIALS:

  100% Cashmere 2 ply. Jade Sapphire Exotic Fibers 100 yds color ivory.

  Needles—U.S. 2, single point.

  Beads (TOHO recommended)—Approximately 330 #08 silver-lined crystal, 14 #06 silver-lined crystal, 2 accent crystals, 2 crystal hearts (to decorate the ends of the I-cord). Optional lining for bag.

  String 330 #08 Beads

  Cast on 214 stitches.

  Row 1. Working from wrong side:

  TO BEAD ONE WORKING FROM WRONG SIDE—Knit 1, slip next stitch as if to purl, slide bead up next to needle, continue knitting.

  * Knit 1—bead 1, repeat from * to last 2 stitches, knit 2.

  Row 2. * Knit 1—purl 4, repeat from * to end of row.

  Row 3. * Knit 4—purl 1, repeat from * to end of row.

  Row 4. Right side facing; knit 1—purl 2—place bead—purl 2, to end of row.

  TO PLACE BEAD BETWEEN STITCHES— Purl next stitch, slide bead up to needle, purl next stitch, continue knitting.

  Row 5. Repeat row 3.

  Row 6. * Knit 1—purl 2 tog—purl 2 tog, repeat from * to end of row.

  Row 7. * Knit 2 tog—purl 1, repeat from * to end of row.

  TO BEAD 1—Bring yarn to front of work, slip next stitch as if to purl, place bead next to stitch, bring yarn to back of work, leaving bead sitting in front of slipped stitch.

  Row 8. Right side facing; Knit 2—bead 1, to last stitch, knit 1.

  Row 9. Purl.

  Row 10. Knit 1 * Yarn over (wrap 2 times), knit 2 tog. Continue from * to last stitch, knit 1.

  Row 11. Purl 1—Purl into wrap, continue to last stitch, knit 1.

  Row 12. Knit.

  TO BEAD 1—Bring yarn to back of work, slip next stitch as if to purl, place bead next to needle, bring yarn forward, purl next stitch.

  Row 13. Wrong side facing; Purl 1—bead 1, continue to last stitch. Purl 1.

&
nbsp; Row 14. Knit.

  Row 15. Purl.

  Row 16. Knit 2 * bead 1—knit 5, continue from * to last 6 stitches, knit 6.

  Rows 17, 19, 21, 23. Purl.

  Row 18. Knit.

  Row 20. Knit 5—bead 1, to last 3 stitches, knit 3.

  Row 22. Knit.

  REPEAT ROWS 16–23, until piece measures 4 inches from eyelet.

  Knit 1—bead 1, to last stitch. Knit 1. Purl next row.

  Knit 2—bead 1, to last 2 stitches. Knit 2. Purl next row.

  Knit 1—bead 1, to last stitch. Knit 1. Purl next row.

  BASE:

  Row 1. Right side facing; Purl.

  Row 2. Knit.

  Row 3. Knit 7—Knit 2 tog, continue to end of row.

  Rows 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16: Knit.

  Row 5. Knit 6—Knit 2 tog, continue to end of row.

  Row 7. Knit 5—Knit 2 tog, continue to end of row.

  Row 9. Knit 4—Knit 2 tog, continue to end of row.

  Row 11. Knit 3—Knit 2 tog, continue to end of row.

  Row 13. Knit 2—Knit 2 tog, continue to end of row.

  Row 15. Knit 1—Knit 2 tog, continue to end of row.

  Row 17. Knit 2 tog 6 times.

  Cut yarn and pull through last 6 stitches.

  FINISHING:

  Sew up base and side seams.

  Knit 2 lengths of I-cord approximately 13 inches long.

  Weave I-cord through eyelet. Double pull.

  Trim ends of I-cord with 7 of the #06 beads, 1 accent crystal, 1 crystal heart.

  Optional: Line bag.

  Copyright Sandy Payne 2010.

  All rights reserved. No portion of this pattern may be photocopied without written permission.

  One

  April 22

  Today I sign the papers on our new house! I’m excited and exhausted and feel completely out of my element. I have so much still to do. I should’ve been finishing up the packing or cleaning the apartment before the movers arrived. But no. Instead, I sat down and began to knit. What was I thinking? Actually, knitting was exactly what I needed to do. Knitting always calms me, and at this point my nerves are frayed. I haven’t moved in years and I’d forgotten how stressful it can be. Usually, I’m organized and in control, but today I’m not (even if I look as though I am). On the inside—and I don’t mind admitting this—I’m a mess.

  Mostly, I’m worried about Ellen. My ten-year-old has already had so much upheaval in her life. She feels secure in our tiny apartment. And it is tiny. It was just right for one small dog and me, but I never intended to stay here so long. When I moved into this space above the bookstore it was with the hope—the expectation—that Robert and I would reconcile. But the unthinkable happened and I lost my husband to a heart attack. After his funeral I remained here because making it from one day to the next was all I could deal with.

  Then Ellen came into my life and it was obvious that two people and a dog, no matter how small, couldn’t live comfortably in this minuscule space, although we managed for more than a year. I did make an earlier offer on a house but that didn’t work out.

  After bouncing from foster home to foster home, Ellen had ended up with her grandmother, who died when she was eight. So Ellen needed stability. She’d endured enough without having a move forced upon her so soon after the adoption.

  In retrospect, I’m grateful that first house deal fell through, since it would’ve happened too fast for Ellen—although I was disappointed at the time. Even now, Ellen feels uneasy about leaving Blossom Street, although I’ve reassured her that we aren’t really leaving. Blossom Street Books is still here and so is the apartment. The only thing that’ll be different is that at the end of the workday, instead of walking up the stairs, we’ll drive home.

  Sitting in the office of the Seattle title company, Anne Marie Roche signed her name at the bottom of the last document. She leaned back and felt the tension ease from between her shoulder blades. As of this moment she was the proud owner of her own home. Today was the culmination of several months of effort. She smiled at the two sellers who sat across the table from her; they looked equally happy.

  “Is the house ours now?” Ellen whispered as she tugged at the sleeve of Anne Marie’s jacket.

  “It is,” she whispered back.

  A few years ago Anne Marie had merely been going through the motions. Robert, her husband, had died, and she’d found herself a widow at the age of forty. She had no one in her life who loved her, no one she could love. All right, she had friends and family and she had her dog, Baxter, a Yorkie—admittedly a special dog—but Anne Marie needed more, wanted more. She’d craved the intense, focused, mutual love of a spouse, or a child of her own. Then she’d met Ellen through a volunteer program and they’d grown close. When Ellen’s grandmother, Dolores, who’d been raising the girl, became seriously ill, Anne Marie had stepped in—at Dolores’s urging. She’d taken over as the girl’s foster mother and, after Dolores’s death, adopted her. Dolores must have known she was reaching the end of her life, and when she saw how attached Ellen and Anne Marie were, she’d been able to die in peace, confident in the knowledge that her granddaughter would be safe and, above all, loved.

  “You can cross finding a house off your list of twenty wishes,” Ellen said, referring to the list Anne Marie had compiled with a group of widowed friends the year she’d met Ellen.

  The child’s straight brown hair brushed her shoulders, with a tiny red bow clipped at each temple. Her eyes were wide with expectation—and a little fear. Anne Marie hoped Ellen would quickly adjust to her new home and neighborhood, although Ellen kept insisting she liked her old one just fine.

  “We want you to be as happy in this home as we’ve been,” Mr. Johnson, the previous owner, said. With a great deal of ceremony he and his wife handed the house key to Anne Marie. The Johnsons, an older couple who’d lived there for more than twenty years, planned to move to Arizona to spend their retirement near friends.

  “I’m sure we will,” Anne Marie said. She’d looked at a number of places and this was the first one that felt right, with its large backyard and spacious rooms. Ellen would be able to go to the school she currently attended, which Anne Marie considered a bonus.

  She would do whatever she could to ensure that the transition would be a smooth one for her daughter. Ellen had made friends on Blossom Street, people she visited almost every day, and she could continue doing that. Her favorite stop was A Good Yarn, Lydia Goetz’s store. Both Anne Marie and Ellen had learned to knit, thanks to Lydia.

  “You promise I’ll like the new house as much as Blossom Street?” Ellen asked with a skeptical frown.

  “You’re going to love having a big bedroom.”

  “I like my old bedroom,” she said, lowering her head.

  “Yes, but you’ll like this one just as much.” This was a conversation they’d had a number of times already. “And Baxter’s going to enjoy racing around that big backyard, chasing butterflies.”

  The hint of a smile touched Ellen’s face, and Anne Marie put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she said. “You’ll see.”

  Ellen nodded uncertainly.

  Now that the paperwork had been completed, Anne Marie thanked the title agent, who’d been so helpful. With the house keys safely inside her purse, she stood and reached for Ellen’s hand. “Mel’s taking us out for a celebratory lunch,” she said on their way out the door.

  “What’s celebratory mean?”

  “It means we have something to celebrate, and that’s our brand-new home.” New to them at any rate. She raised her voice to show how pleased she was that this day had finally arrived.

  “What about Dad?”

  “We’ll see him later.” Over the past few months, Anne Marie’s relationship with Tim Carlsen had become…complicated. He was Ellen’s biological father and hadn’t known he had a daughter until after Anne Marie had adopted her. Tim had connected with Ellen through a long and indirect
process. Anne Marie had reluctantly—very reluctantly—granted him permission to visit Ellen. Thankfully, Tim, who’d acknowledged his problems with drug and alcohol abuse, was now clean and sober. He’d turned his life around several years before, unlike Ellen’s biological mother, who was still incarcerated. She’d surrendered her parental rights, which had made it possible for Anne Marie to adopt the child. It was only after Anne Marie saw how much Tim loved his daughter that she’d softened toward him. All too soon, a rosy, and completely unrealistic, picture had formed in her mind—the three of them together, as one happy family.

  Then Tim had dropped his bombshell and that dream had been blown to smithereens. He was engaged to Vanessa, a woman he’d met at his AA meetings. Anne Marie had felt incredibly foolish even entertaining the notion of the two of them as a couple.

  Shortly afterward she’d met Mel through her friend Barbie. He was a widower, the same age Robert would have been—close to twenty years older than Anne Marie. Mel was a comfortable person, easy to be with, unthreatening and undemanding. He got along well with Ellen, too. They’d been dating for a few months, and while it wasn’t a steamy romance or an exciting one, she was content.

  Mel’s attention had helped soothe her ego after the let-down she’d experienced with Tim. The ironic part was that shortly after she’d started seeing Mel, Tim and Vanessa had parted ways. After her disappointment with Tim, Anne Marie wasn’t willing to make her heart vulnerable to him again. She’d made that clear and he’d accepted her decision. She let him see Ellen, however. Her daughter loved being part of her father’s life and looked forward to spending time with him.

  “Where’s Mel taking us to celebrate?” Ellen asked as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor. There was a light drizzle outside, not unusual for April in Seattle. It wasn’t heavy enough to warrant an umbrella, but damp enough to curl Anne Marie’s naturally wavy hair.