The Notorious R(uth) B(arakat) G(rimaldi)

Chapter 26: Making the Best of It

"Rosebud, are you sure this is such a good idea?" Her Pop's voice was gentle, and he was very careful not to sound judgmental in any way.

They were back at home, and well into Christmas Vacation.

"What do you mean? Are you saying you think I can't do it?" Ruthie asked, and, Pop's efforts notwithstanding, she sounded hurt.

And offended and pissed.

"No no," he hastened to assure her. "You can do anything, anything, I believe that. But this is a difficult thing to learn, right? Takes some practice? It might be too much, even for you, given the time constraint, that's all I'm saying."

"It's not rocket science," Ruthie said, her voice sharper than she intended, because she loved her Pop more than anything. "I mean, senior citizens who only have half their minds left do it, you know? And people in institutions and stuff do it just to freakin' relax. How hard can it be?"

They were staring at the angled mess of emerald green yarn in Ruthie's lap. Clarence Darrow was also staring, with great interest, though Ruthie did try to keep pushing him away.

She had decided that, since she was supposed to stay off her leg, she was going to spend the next week crocheting Elliott a scarf as a Christmas present.

"He doesn't have one. He told me. I mean," she continued, plucking at the yarn and making Clarence's eyes dilate, "he said he had one, back in England, but he left it there because he was coming to California and he didn't think he'd need one."

Elliott hadn't counted on the Central Valley fog, known as Tulle Fog, which was so dense sometimes people were reduced to driving slowly with their car doors open so they could see the center line on the road.

"I know, honey, and I admire the sentiment, but this might take even you longer than a week," Pop said, rubbing the top of her head.

But Ruthie shook her head. "No, I read about it. Knitting is time-consuming, and really hard, but crocheting is much faster, and easier to do, coordination-wise." She picked up her hook, and looked again at the pile of yarn in her lap.

Clarence crept closer, while Amal Clooney watched him stalk the yarn with great interest, snout on her paws, ears perked attentively.

"Well, first off, I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be in a big blob like that," Pop said, sitting down next to her. "How'd that happen? It didn't look like that when we got home from the yarn store."

"I was supposed to wind it into a ball first, but I thought I'd save time and just use it like it came, but be really careful," Ruthie admitted. "Then a big tangled blob came out of the middle, and while I was trying to fix it, this happened." She gestured toward her lap. Her iPad sat next to her, open to a YouTube video on crocheting a man's scarf.

"Lesson learned, I guess," Pop said with a smile.

"Yeah," Ruthie said. She sounded defeated and tired, the way she used to sound in the evenings when she'd swum for two hours, but still had piano, voice, and homework ahead of her.

"Here, I did a bit of yarn work myself when I was young," Pop told her. "I helped my Grammy. So how about if I work on this tangle, and you keep watching the video and working?"

"But how?" Ruthie's hand flapped at the yarn, making Clarence Darrow nearly go crazy. "It's all connected." She sounded close to tears.

"I'll cut this part off, fix it, and we can weave it back in. I don't remember much, but I remember how to weave ends together," Pop assured her.

Ruthie gave him a look of pure gratitude.

In this way they passed the afternoon, with Ruthie swearing frequently and loudly at the video, at the yarn, the hook, even her own hands.