35
WINNIE
I knock on Jonah’s parents’door and nervously wait for Meg to answer. It’s freezing out, like it always is here, and I stuff my hands into the pockets of my fur coat. Meg texted me this morning offering to teach me how to knit, and I jumped at the chance. I’m not quite ready to admit exactly why it’s so important that Jonah’s family likes me, but it is.
Meg opens the door and ushers me inside, but not before giving my fur coat a once over.
“It’s cold out!” I chirp, before she can comment on it.
“I haven’t seen a coat like that in years.”
“Thanks.” I’m not really sure if she’s complimenting me, but whatever. “I really like vintage fashion and I’m glad to have the chance to wear it. But I obviously don’t agree with the fur industry!” It’s unnecessary information and Meg just looks at me blankly.
Great. We’re off to a terrific start.
“Um, so it’s great news about you being cancer free,” I say, trailing behind her into the living room. I sit next to her on the sofa, and look around for the knitting supplies. They’re nowhere to be found.
“Thank you, Winnie. I was worried about accruing more medical debt if I got sick again, since we already owed so much. Imagine my surprise when the billing department at the hospital told me I owed them nothing when I called. Apparently Jonah paid the balance off a few days after you two got married.” Meg raises a perfectly arched, blonde brow at me. Her eyes are a similar shade to Jonah’s and he must have mastered the art of the assessing stare under her tutelage.
“That’s nice of him, though I’m not sure what that has to do with me.” Normally, I’m a decent liar. I know how to paste on a smile and pretend I’m happy even when I feel like I’m dying inside. And I grew up constantly lying to my parents:no I didn’t eat anything but a salad for lunch, yes I love the outfit you picked out for me, you don’t look a day over forty, Mom.But as soon as I lie to Meg, I can tell she doesn’t buy it. Not one bit.
“I wondered why my son married you,” she muses. “You’re beautiful and kind, but Jonah isn’t the type to jump into things.”
“I know that. He’s too thoughtful to make rash decisions.”
Meg looks slightly surprised for a moment, like she can’t believe I know Jonah that well.
“And it didn’t make sense why you married him either. He can’t give a woman like you the type of life you’re used to or the one you?—”
“The type of life I want is the one I have right now, here, in Star Mountain. I like working at the barn. I love the town. I like peace and quiet.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it shakes anyways.
“Fair enough. I’m not trying to insult you,” Meg explains, her voice softer now. “I just couldn’t make the pieces fit together. Jack told me I was overthinking things, and that it was clear that you two cared for one another.”
“We do,” I interrupt. “We really, truly do.”
“I understand that. But I want to know why you married my son, and why my medical debts are cleared.”
I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to steady myself. I’m not sure how to answer her. I don’t want to tell her the truth without Jonah here with me, but I also can’t lie to her any longer, that much is clear. She won’t accept anything else from me but honesty.
“The money Jonah used to pay your medical bills came from my trust fund,” I explain. Meg takes this in stride, and just nods. “I could only access it at the age of thirty or when I got married, and I needed the money. Getting married to Jonah was faster than waiting another four years.”
Meg just looks at me, like she expects there to be more of the story. “And why did you need this money so badly?”
“I don’t really want to explain it,” I admit. “It hurts to talk about.”
“How about this,” Meg says, reaching under the coffee table and grabbing a basket. “I’ll teach you one thing about knitting, and you tell me one thing about yourself.” She grabs a ball of pink yarn from the basket and holds it out to me.
I think about her offer for a moment. Telling anyone about my relationship with my parents makes me feel vulnerable and small—like something must be wrong with me, for them to not love me even though I’m their only child. But I don’t think Jonah’s mom will judge me for how they are. She seems like too good of a parent to do that.
I take the ball of yarn from Meg’s hand and give her a weak smile. It’s soft under my fingers and I know that whatever we make out of it will be lovely.
“This is called a skein,” she says. “It’s made of wool and silk, and it takes me about six skeins of that to make a sweater.”
I take a deep breath. “Back home, in Alabama, being a pageant queen was only one part of my job. I made most of mymoney on social media and my parents took nearly every penny of it from me.”
Meg just nods, and then reaches into the basket and shows me the needles, explaining what she uses each type for. She even has needles she can use to knit something round, like a hat.
“I started doing pageants when I was ten as a way to get my parents to pay attention to me,” I tell her. “But I’ve…” My voice cracks a bit. “I’ve regretted that decision for a long time.”
