Free Back on Blossom Street by Debbie Macomber Page B

straighter.
    “I was in a rut,” Susannah explained. “Burned out. Without realizing it, I’d lost my enthusiasm. When I started teaching, I loved every minute of it. Back then, I almost hated to see the school year end. The last year I taught, I couldn’t wait for summer and I realized I was cheating my students—and myself.”
    Alix’s question made me wonder if she wanted to have her own bakery one day, the way Susannah had opened a florist’s business. I found that an exciting idea, but wasn’t sure how Jordan would feel about it.
    “Why a flower shop?” Colette asked, leaning forward.
    Susannah gestured expansively. “I’ve always had a beautiful garden and my mother did, too. I guess I inherited my love for flowers from her. Actually, I would never have thought of owning a flower shop if not for my husband. Joe knows me best.” She paused and smiled. “I’ll amend that. On a good day, he can be astonishingly intuitive about me and what I need. He’s the one who checked out the For Sale sign at Fanny’s Floral and talked to the previous owner. When he suggested I buy the shop, I knew right away that it was exactly what I should do.”
    “You like being your own boss?” Alix asked.
    “I absolutely love it,” Susannah said fervently. “Although I have to tell you I’ve never worked harder in my life.”
    Alix looked out the window at the French Café. I knew she’d once dreamed of working in such a place and her dream had become a reality, the same way mine had.
    “Say, Alix, didn’t someone tell me you’re getting married in June?” Susannah asked.
    Alix nodded, but not with much vigor. I feared her bad day was directly related to the wedding. I wish I knew what had set her off. But Alix isn’t one to freely share her troubles; I suppose that kind of reserve comes from having only herself to rely on all those years. She’d been living on her own from the time she was sixteen.
    “Have you ordered the wedding flowers yet?” Susannah asked.
    Alix squirmed again. “I’m leaving that up to Jordan’s mother.”
    “Don’t you want a say in the matter?” Colette asked, glancing at Susannah and then at me.
    “Not really.” Alix reached for the knitting needles and yarn as if the subject bored her.
    “But flowers are an important part of the wedding,” Susannah said. “Shouldn’t they—”
    “I haven’t made a single decision yet,” Alix broke in. “Why would I start now?” She turned to me. “Are we going to talk all afternoon or are we going to knit?”
    “Knit.” Apparently the wedding was a subject best avoided. I picked up the needles and a skein of yarn. “There are various ways to cast on stitches,” I explained as I inserted my index finger into each end of the rolled yarn. I’ve developed my own method of finding the end and pulling it through the skein. To be honest, I’m not always successful. Fortunately, this time I looked like a genius. I pulled out the end, then had Susannah and Colette do the same.
    Finding the end of the yarn was a good ice-breaker and I was sorry I hadn’t started with that. Alix clearly wasn’tin a talkative mood, and Colette didn’t seem interested in sharing a single piece of information about herself. I assumed she’d be willing to tell Alix that she was a recent widow. Or maybe she thought Alix had already heard. Then again, Colette might prefer to keep her grief about Derek’s death private.
    I continued by showing Colette and Susannah how to cast on stitches by knitting them onto the needle. It’s not my favorite way of casting on; however, I find it one of the less complicated methods. It’s also an effective prelude to learning the basic knitting stitch.
    Alix had completed the first inch of the pattern before Colette had finished casting on and counting her stitches.
    Colette frowned as she looked across the table. “You know how to knit,” she complained. “Why are you taking the class?”
    Alix glanced up and made brief