Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(36)

It wasn’t long before the music started, indicating the service was ready to begin. Looking to the words that showed on the overhead, Lydia and Brad stood with the congregation. Brad reached for her hand as they started to sing.

Jordan wasn’t as polished a speaker as the senior pastor; nevertheless, his sermon was uplifting, instructional, and informative. The hour flew by, and soon it was time for the closing song.

Lydia didn’t need to worry about finding Casey or Cody; the two would find her and Brad in short order. It pleased Lydia that Casey had fit in so easily with the other teens. She was convinced Alix had had something to do with that.

As they exited the pew the couple exchanged greetings with friends and neighbors. Both Jordan and the senior pastor stood in the narthex at the back of the church. They chatted with each person as the congregation slowly flowed out of the building.

Lydia hadn’t always been faithful about attending church services. Not until she’d married Brad and become a mother to Cody did she fully appreciate the need to feed the spiritual part of herself. Often it felt like a hassle to get everyone fed and dressed on a Sunday morning, but she came away feeling empowered and inspired. It was a great way to start the week.

“Lydia.”

Hearing her name, Lydia turned to find Alix waving her hand in order to gain her attention. Alix had Tommy on her hip, and the toddler, who seemed ready for his nap, laid his head on his mother’s shoulder, his thumb in his mouth.

“Wait up,” Alix called.

“Sure.”

“I’ll get the kids,” Brad told her. He was eager to get home to watch the Mariners baseball game on TV.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Lydia said, and then to reassure him added, “I won’t be long.”

He cast her a look that basically said he’d believe that when he saw it. Her husband slowly made his way toward the double-door exit.

Lydia was fairly certain this had to do with Alix’s most recent purchase from the shop. The pattern had called for a fingering-weight yarn that she intended to use for a breathtakingly beautiful round lace shawl. It was an heirloom piece that would require weeks if not months of knitting. Lydia knew that with Alix being a young mother plus working thirty to forty hours a week, she didn’t have a lot of spare time for knitting. Lydia guessed Alix had run into a problem with the pattern.

The young pastor’s wife caught up with her and beamed Lydia a smile. “You’re brilliant. You know that, don’t you?”

“Well, thank you,” Lydia returned. “What did I do for you to come to this foregone conclusion?”

“The new marketing campaign for the yarn store.”

The profit margin with the yarn store was minute, allowing for taxes, paying employees, and restocking the shelves with product. Just recently she’d had a heart-to-heart conversation with her husband about how tight everything was financially. At the end of the day Lydia wasn’t able to pay herself. Still, she loved her store and her customers. With funds so tight, there simply wasn’t enough room in the budget to market the store. This could mean only one thing.

“Are you talking about those knitting baskets left around the neighborhood?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” Alix returned. “I saw one at the roller rink Friday night. Jordan and I took the youth group there, and one of the girls found the basket and brought it to me because she knows I love to knit.”

Casey had attended the church-sponsored function but hadn’t mentioned anything. But then her daughter only had eyes for a certain boy named Jack who was part of the church group.

Lydia held up her palm. “Sorry, not me.”

“You mean to say that wasn’t your idea?”

“I wish I could claim it was, but unfortunately, I can’t take the credit.”

Alix appeared stunned. “It was so clever, too.”

“The yarn in the basket was from my shop?”

“The labels had your sticker on them, so naturally that was what I assumed.”

“It was in a basket, you said?”

Alix nodded. Tommy whined, and she cupped her son’s head and gently bounced him. “It won’t be much longer,” she promised, and kissed his cheek, and then, looking back to Lydia, explained. “He hasn’t been feeling well.”

“We can chat later,” Lydia offered, although she was more than curious to get Alix’s take on these yarn baskets.

“I need to wait for Jordan, anyway,” Alix explained. “We’re always the last to leave the church.”

“Okay, tell me what was in the basket.”

“Yarn and needles, plus a few basic instructions.”

“Instructions?”

“A note that explained that the yarn was there for anyone who wanted to knit. It also said that the project would be a scarf, and when it was finished it would be donated to a homeless shelter or brought in to the store for distribution. Oh, and it had one of those small spiral notebooks in the basket, too.”

“For what?”

“I don’t really know, since it was blank. I assumed it was for anyone to make a comment or perhaps to write down their name.”

This didn’t make a lot of sense to Lydia.

“I started the scarf, cast on the stitches, and knit a few rows myself. Then several of the girls took turns knitting.”