Chapter 4
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Ebbie left the bed and breakfast thinking she would be early to the meeting. A solid half-hour before the appointment should have been the gentle buffer she needed.
It wasn’t.
She was led into the room where four others were already seated, wrapping up what must have been the earlier “what to do about the next meeting” meeting.
“Hello, February!”
“Hi, Dad.”
Her father stood and walked quickly over to greet her with a hug. His sincere embrace was a kind gesture, and though Ebbie knew it wasn’t meant to be awkward, it still was.
“It’s good to see you! I had hoped we could have met yesterday for a visit, but maybe you’ll have a bit more flexibility with your schedule tonight?” He asked, soft eyes looking down at her.
She nodded and swallowed, wondering why her throat couldn’t behave normally. He gestured to the chair situated across from his own. First, her throat and now her hands… They were sweaty, she noticed as she smoothed her dress and sat down. He smiled at her again.
After escorting Ebbie into the room, her sister continued to her own seat. “We can go ahead and start a bit early since she’s here now.” It seemed a nod in Ebbie’s direction was the only welcome she would get from her sister.
“February! If you hurry, we won’t miss the good stuff at the beginning!” the voice called out from the bottom of the stairs.
Ebbie was digging through the pile on her desk, frantically searching for her pencil set. She didn’t want to make them late for the movie, but she had to have those pencils. Usually, she could grab her art supply set and go, but her sister had stacked the piles of hand-me-downs on top of the desk yesterday, and Ebbie had yet to sort through them. Her fingers rummaged around beneath the folded clothes, which couldn’t really be called “folded” anymore. “Got it!” she proclaimed, satisfied with her victory, and put them into her backpack.
Thumping down the stairs two at a time, Ebbie made it to the landing where Trin stood. Standing next to the window seat, hands gently tugging each end of a well-worn patchwork scarf, her sister was trying to be patient.
Ebbie thought storybooks always got it wrong. In them, older sisters were bossy killjoys. Despite just being twelve, Ebbie was sure she had read enough books to be an expert in most things. And the subject of sisters was one on which she could speak with authority, for Ebbie had the most incredible big sister in the world! Trin was good at keeping things managed but fell just short of actually being bossy. Her nature was to be thoughtful. A “strategizer” their father would say and definitely clever. She could word things in a way that Ebbie found herself nodding in agreement and on board with whatever Trin was explaining. A well-made bed and a clean room somehow made sense after Trin gave her a pep talk, though none of Ebbie’s other teenage friends thought so. Could Ebbie see that sleeping in on a Saturday morning really was a waste when instead she could get up early and volunteer at the library? Friday nights, Ebbie made sure her alarm clock was set for 8 a.m. Her sister was either prepared or preparing, and that made Trin quite a lot of fun to be around. It also left Ebbie little room to get herself into mischief. Trin was ever-present and helping direct each step. Ebbie couldn’t have asked for a better sister.
Trin wasn’t just the perfect sister, she filled the void of a missing mom. Ebbie had a few lovely, dreamlike memories of her mom, but often wondered what her own remembrances were and what were the visions she imagined from Trin’s endless stories. Ebbie loved her sister all the more for sharing moments that she herself would never get to have since their mother died when Ebbie was three.
“Got everything now?” Trin asked, reaching out a hand to fix the sweatshirt Ebbie was wrestling. Her hood was choking her, but with a pull and a twist, Trin had it set right.
“I’m all ready!” she smiled. “And thanks for all the clothes and stuff. The pile you dropped off is so big I couldn’t even see my desk or my chair! I can not wait to sort through it all!”
They walked together down the sweeping staircase. The table in the entrance hall shone with the warm light pouring in from outside. Ebbie dragged her fingers across the polished wood, loving the squeak her damp fingers made as she did. She traced them around the glass vase in the center and watched as the almost invisible streaks evaporated. Beneath the flowers in the vase, dancing rainbows moved on the surface of the wood top and along the metal catch-all that kept the family necessities organized.
”So, here’s something I want you to think about when you do go through them,” Trin paused and took her keys from the tray, “I love that you get excited to re-use my clothes for your “Franken-makes.” Still, when you cut them up for fabric, it prevents someone else from using them, someone that has a need rather than just wants to play with them for a hobby. Those clothes I don’t wear anymore can go to the charity shop and help people get good things inexpensively.” She looked to Ebbie with a soft smile, “You probably have a huge stockpile of crafty things stored up already, right? We could give more away this time, maybe all of them? Then we could go into the city and actually shop in a fabric store for your supplies if you are running low.” With her forefinger, she gently tapped the tip of Ebbie’s nose, just like she said mom used to do Ebbie thought. Trin continued, “Maybe something to consider before getting too scissor happy? What do you think?”
Ebbie was stuck. As usual, she didn’t know how to say what she was thinking. She didn’t want to sound dumb. But she also didn’t know how to share all the things she had in her head. They never made it out of her mouth the same smooth way they seemed to swirl and collect in her mind.
It wasn’t just fun to see things that Trin wore with such grace and style be transformed into something unexpected. It was more than that. And not just Trin’s clothes, but her father’s too. Strips of fabric Ebbie collected for months had been slowly braided into a small rug now finished and in her father’s den. Another on the floor by her own bed. Stepping on that collective assortment each morning felt right to her feet and to her heart. Corduroy from dad’s old pants, wool from Trin’s sweaters and flannel from her own outgrown pajama bottoms, had all come together to create something needed; refreshing and beautiful.
She had carefully deconstructed three blazers that her dad no longer wore. The sturdy fabric from the outside and light, silky pieces from the lining were a jackpot! From them, Ebbie had made a patchwork rectangle of alternating materials and colors, sewing them carefully with delicate stitches. Trin had opened the gift and looked at it wordlessly for a long time. So long that Ebbie wondered if it was a bit too “Franken-make,” a term lovingly used to describe Ebbie’s unique style of piecing fabric akin to Frankenstein’s Monster.
Trin was wearing that scarf now.
Her family was always supportive, and that fueled Ebbie to create makes especially suited for each person she loved.
But Ebbie nodded, slowly, knowing Trin was right about being mindful of sharing things with others. Ebbie found joy in helping others. Trin felt the same, it seemed. For years she talked of colleges and majors, where to go and what to study. She was determined to become a significant help for her father, who included them both to be part of various charities he supported. Trin would be leaving in the fall, eager to study and learn, then to help manage and grow the family’s charitable foundation.
Ebbie enjoyed helping, but she preferred to visit with people, trying to offer them distractions. Distractions, she sought for herself whenever she wanted to be free of that cold sadness that sometimes crept in. Ebbie would pack up fabric scraps she had collected, and along with other supplies— thread, needles, stuffing— she would teach kids her age ways to piece together bits of this and that and make stuffed toys for themselves, or small gifts for a parent or loved one. She taught kids and moms how to knit, and found the simple rhythm of needles and yarn connected them, pulling them to a common place where they could just enjoy a moment to build. They could push away that heavy cold feeling deep inside and make better. It was a small gesture she knew. Maybe smaller than what was needed.
“Yeah, Trin, you’re probably right. There might be bigger purposes for those things.”
Trin hugged Ebbie and smiled. “I love you, kiddo.”
Ebbie rearranged her backpack, shifting the sketchbook and pencils, a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, me too, Trin,” and they walked out the door, headed for the movies and ice cream and fun. Together.
“So February, our plan is to restructure the way we manage Horizon Charities. Part of that restructuring will conclude your involvement. It should be an easy, straightforward transition. You already have other things that keep you busy and away…” There it was. Though the words had been spoken in almost the same tone, the sting of disappointment in Trin’s voice was sharp in Ebbie’s ears.
“Today, we just want to go through a simple exit strategy for you, help you understand the bigger picture and then wrap things up hopefully tomorrow or Thursday at the latest and you can get back to doing whatever it is you are up to these days.” No smile, no frown, just a look from Trin, level and empty.
And Ebbie didn’t like it.
“Dad and I have other meetings while we are in the area, which is why we asked to meet you here rather than closer to home, but we will try to be available and flexible for you. We understand you are here for a few days…” She was waiting for Ebbie to clarify.
A nod and then Ebbie found her voice, “My reservations at the Dram Tree B & B are through next Wednesday, so another week and a few days. I don’t have an agenda, except meeting with you, Dad, and” —she awkwardly gestured towards the three other members of the meeting, “you all.”
Not one to miss an opportunity, her father pounced on that bit of information and said, “Well, if that is the case, you should have plenty of time to squeeze in a dinner or two with your old man. Maybe even let me take you and your sister to lunch since there will be time.”
Ebbie noticed Trin stiffen slightly, and she wished she had brought her knitting with her. If only she had wrapped up that neck decrease. Ebbie tried not to laugh at the thought. Did I really think those deceases were going to be the hardest part of my day? She wondered.
If she survived the next uncomfortable hour or two here, she would welcome any challenge her hand-knit sweater wanted to bring on.
From Ebbie’s Journal: Neck Shaping & Next Steps
Done.
Cue the roaring crowd.
I am done!
Well, done with the back of the sweater anyway. But I really do think this calls for a celebration, so bring on the confetti. And maybe some coffee ice cream…
I thought it would have been longer, but it took considerably less time than I’d built up in my head. That's usually the case with knitting patterns and me. If I just get on with the work it turns out much simpler than I thought.
But I can’t believe —or maybe won’t believe— that I’m the only knitter who cringes as they read what appears to be a lengthy process ahead:
Right Side: Work 11 / 13 / 15 / 17 stitches in pattern, turn and work these sts for first side of back neck shaping.
Row 1 and 2: Continue to work in pattern, decreasing 1 st at the end of row.
Row 3: work in pattern without any decreases across 9 / 11 / 13 / 15 remaining sts.
Repeat Rows 1-3 once more 7 / 9 / 11 / 13 sts remain.
Next 2 rows: Knit 2 sts together, work in pattern to end 5 / 7 / 9 / 11 sts remain.
Bind off.
So, I set off to do that bit. And in the end I started the neck shaping and was done in five minutes. Ok, maybe seven. Whatever, it was quick.
Once this side was complete I felt more at ease with getting on with the other side. I knew once I wrapped it all up I could start the font piece of the sweater, and that was exactly what I wanted to be doing!
So back to those final few stitches I went:
With Right Side facing, slip 13 / 15 / 17 / 19 sts on to holder or waste yarn, work in pattern across remaining 11 / 13 / 15 / 17 sts
Row 1 and 2: Continue to work in pattern, decreasing 1 st at the end of row.
Row 3: work in pattern without any decreases across 9 / 11 / 13 / 15 remaining sts.
Repeat Rows 1-3 once more 7 / 9 / 11 / 13 sts remain.
Next 2 rows: Knit 2 sts together, work in pattern to end 5 / 7 / 9 / 11 sts remain.
Bind off.
I left my remaining stitches on a length of waste yarn that I tied in a bow just to be sure those live stitches didn’t sneak away! And then it was party time…and yeah, by party I mean getting busy with a tubular cast on!
I have set to work on the front hem in just the same way as the back. Looking forward to wrapping that up and on to the beautiful rhythm of moss stitch.
My knitting is going to dinner with me tonight. Well, not just me… me and dad…
