“Can everyone please stop talking for a moment!” Nicole said to the crowd, clapping her hands like a pre-school teacher.

She had been trying to get people to quiet down for about a minute, but she was soft-spoken, and people continued to talk over her. This time Nicole was able to grab their attention, and people turned to look at her. Those who continued talking lowered their voices while wearing sheepish smiles.

It was a chilly Sunday night, and Nicole’s small bookstore was filled with people chatting, drinking wine, and browsing books on her shelves. I stood in the back of the room holding a small plastic glass of white wine. Zach, my best friend, sat on the arm of a leather armchair next to me. He looked over at me and chuckled. Having watched for a week as Nicole and I got ready for this night, he knew what was coming.

“Tonight is the grand re-opening of Lacock, Massachusetts’s oldest bookstore, Lacock Books,” Nicole said in a low voice when the room was quiet.

She paused for a moment while everyone applauded. Feeling more confident, she raised her voice. “Thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight. When I decided to buy this bookstore, I was worried about the investment. I’m happy to see so many of you here tonight and during our soft launch in the past few weeks. Every community should have a thriving bookstore, and you can do that by making sure you buy all your books from us.”

As Nicole paused to take a breath, she noticed more people had shown up than anticipated. I knew she was worried about staying open, but I hoped they would sign up for events and programs.

“I don’t think we would have made it tonight if it wasn’t for Carrie Woodhouse,” Nicole said, a light pink blush spreading over her cheeks as she looked at her notes. “She has been my rock and unexpected mentor through this process. Most of us know that the Woodhouse family has been part of this community since the town was founded in 1730. Their yarn company put us on the map and continues to be a big draw for tourism. Hopefully, Lacock Books can help bring even more vibrancy to our local downtown and show all our visitors the wonderful things our town offers.”

She looked back at the paper in her hand before quickly looking up again. “Oh!” Nicole said as soon as she realized she had forgotten something. “A big thank you to Doug from Donwell Liquor down the street. He provided the wine tonight, and if you go by before they close, you can get ten percent off your purchase of what you enjoyed tonight.”

The audience all turned to the back of the room, where Doug stood by the alcohol table. He was handing out glasses of wine to people. He was tall and hard to miss, but he lifted his arm and waved to the group. I turned to Zach as everyone clapped, my smile getting wider. One night, over knitting and wine in my apartment, Doug, Nicole, and I had formed the plan for Nicole to buy the local bookstore, which was on the verge of going out of business. We wanted to create a bubble of supportive businesses in downtown Lacock to do more collaborations and grow our businesses. At the time, Zach dismissed it, but now he admitted that his cafe, which was in my yarn store, would benefit from this plan.

“You’re insufferable,” Zach whispered without looking at me. The smile across his face and low laughter made me feel like I was on top of the world.

“Carrie, can you come up here?” Nicole said, reaching out her hand in my direction.

I turned to quickly look at Zach as I walked to Nicole. I could see his pursed lips as he fought his desire to laugh, and I knew his irritation was a lie. He adores me.

“Thank you, Nicole,” I said, squeezing Nicole’s hand once I stood next to my friend. “I’m thrilled to see so many people here. This is such a supportive community. Lacock Books has been at the heart of it for generations, and when Nicole had the idea to buy it, I knew she would make this the bookstore our community wants and needs.”

I picked up a book from a stack next to where I was standing. I knew the book because I was already reading it. Every so often, I came over and quietly read. Nicole and I had dubbed it the Silent Book Club. She suggested a new book each month, and a few of us would read it together. We’d never discussed it at a meeting because, like many book clubs, we were happy drinking wine and catching up with each other.

I smiled, thinking about it. “Personally,” I added, showing people the book’s cover, “I love coming here to talk books and quietly read during the Silent Book Club. I hope to see more of you here in the future. For other local business owners, if you’re ever looking for advice on running a business downtown, I think Nicole and I will be happy to help and collaborate with you.”

I turned to Nicole, who was bright red and shaking her head.

“Well,” I continued with a giggle, understanding Nicole’s reluctance, “I’ll be happy to help.”

The room clapped again as I walked back to Zach, who put his arm around my shoulders. “That was great, but you really need to work on humble.”

I laughed with him and wrapped my arm around his waist, enjoying his pride. “I see Amelia,” I said when I saw the younger woman’s blond curls in the crowd. I gave Zach a kiss on the cheek before waving her down.

Amelia had graduated from Lacock State University in May and now worked with the Woodhouse Family Foundation, which my family established a few generations ago. Since then, many assistants have come and gone their way. I had a marvelous feeling about her when I met her a couple of years ago while she was fighting to save my family’s dorm at the local university. Her cheerful personality was just too contagious. James, my brother-in-law, had hired her before she had even graduated. Amelia wasn’t alone, but I didn’t recognize the woman she was with.

“Carrie, Lisa is the new director for the Hartfield Community Center,” Amelia said after kissing me on the cheek. “Her background is in sociology. She researched women’s work, and you know, like knitting.”

I smiled, raising an eyebrow as I looked over Lisa, who had stick-straight strawberry blonde hair, light brown eyes, and freckled skin. “I didn’t realize you had hired someone!” I said. “Welcome to Lacock, and please feel free to visit the store any time. I’d love to hear more about your research and your plans for the Hartfield Center.”

“I’m very interested in collaborating with the shop,” Lisa said with a smile. “I have a few ideas and would love some feedback.”

I raised an eyebrow, impressed that she was ahead of me. “You should come by the shop tomorrow then. I bet your board members want quick action.”

Amelia laughed. Since she was the face of the Woodhouse Foundation, she was invited to sit on various trustee boards. The Hartfield Community Center had been awarded a grant from the foundation, so it would be a priority for Amelia. The rumor was that the Hartfield Center had lost most of its trustees and needed to fill those spots quickly.

Lisa blushed. “I was hoping to convince you to take one of the empty spots as a local business owner.”

I pursed my lips as I thought about the offer. I had never been invited to help a nonprofit before, and my instinct was to agree. “Who else are you inviting?” I asked, hoping to get a better sense of the personalities.

Lisa sighed as she thought about her list. “Lois Fairfax from Lacock State is remaining on the board. Not that I would have asked her to leave.”

As president, Lois remained involved in all local education programs, especially those she felt met her university’s mission. Since that included making higher education accessible to first-generation college students, the Hartfield Center was an essential part of her image. I was glad she insisted on remaining involved, and Lisa was not showing any irritation with it.

“I’d also like to find someone local who has gone through one of the center’s career placement programs to sit on the board,” Lisa added, sticking her finger up.

This program had been designed a few decades ago as a job placement program for people not going into college, but I wasn’t sure anyone in my circle had been part of it. “Nobody comes to mind right away, but I’ll think about that a bit.”

“That would be great,” Lisa said, her face lighting up. “I’m going to need a lot of help connecting with the community, so I appreciate your time.”

I smiled and decided I liked her. It was clear that she needed help. It would be good for our community to rebuild the Hartfield Center so that the kids in town had something to do and a safe place to be every day. I was excited about being part of it, especially if it allowed me to get experience being a community leader.

Lisa and I made plans for lunch tomorrow before I moved around the room again. I eventually found Nicole standing with Bart, the CEO of our local Chamber of Commerce, and some local politicians.

“Carrie,” Bart said, drawing me in when he noticed me walking by. “This was a great event!”

I joined the group only because I noticed that Nicole was surrounded by old white men. She needed an ally and maybe an escape.

“All I did was give Nicole advice,” I said, nudging my friend gently with my elbow. “She did all the work to get her store ready.”

“I don’t know,” Bart said, winking at me. “You seem to have been at the center of this whole thing.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Bart was fine to work with, but he was the type of man who thought he needed to flirt with every woman he met. It reeked of insincerity, and I was always hesitant to interact with him personally. There was something about him that put me off. His position in the Chamber of Commerce made a lot of local collaborations possible, making him an excellent professional ally. It dawned on me that he would be a great person to put on the community center’s board. His connections to local politicians and other insiders could make or break a project. I made a mental note to talk to Lisa about including him. I knew there could be tension between him and Lois Fairfax, given her position at the university, and I suspected that would be something that Lisa could use to her advantage if played right.

“You’re coordinating all those yarn coverings, right, Carrie?” Lawrence, the Mayor asked.

Lawrence was an older, paunchy, balding man who had grown up with my father. I had known him all my life, but lately, he tried to get local businesses to endorse him for an upcoming election. There were rumors about a battle for the future of the city. We were in the middle of an economic development initiative. Both Lacock State and Woodhouse Yarns, my family’s yarn company, were the biggest employers in the city, but we needed more. Lawrence and Bart were promoting local artists in hopes of becoming an art community. The other side, led by the Economic Redevelopment Director, wanted a spa town to attract tourists. I thought we could do both and was trying to avoid taking sides.

“Those are yarn bombs,” Nicole said, perking up at the mention of the project we had started in January.

Lawrence and Bart both looked confused.

“We call it a yarn bomb,” I said with a fake smile, “because it looks like yarn exploded all over downtown.”

The men all laughed at the idea of yarn exploding because it didn’t look like that at all. Since this was our group’s first experience with yarn bombing, we had been very conservative. Lawrence knew all about it, but I knew his original question had been a hint to tell the other men more. He was very good at letting others explain their projects. Both Nicole and I had been organizing the project so either of us could speak about it.

“We spend the month knitting the strips of yarn, and then,” Nicole said, taking the reins on a well-rehearsed speech, “early on the first day of the month, before everyone is awake, we quickly sew them on to the light poles in downtown. By the time everyone is downtown, getting breakfast or going to work, we’ve changed all the poles to their new color for the month.”

I looked at my friend, pleased with her explanation. The men talking with us all nodded slowly, still unclear about what we were doing.

“What do you do with the strips once the month is over?” One of the men asked.

“We’re sewing them into large blankets that we’ll auction off in December at our annual foundation fundraiser,” I said as if it was apparent.

I looked at Bart, and he raised his eyebrows. “What are you doing for your charity knitting next year?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

I took a breath. I knew from experience that Bart might try to take over any project if I let him. He had done it many times when collaborating with other businesses. “We haven’t decided yet,” I said, meeting his eyes and dropping my smile. “We are simply trying to get through this year’s project.”

Bart gave me a curt nod. “We’ll talk about it later.”

I excused myself, resisting the urge to grind my teeth and roll my eyes at Bart.

***

“That was fun,” Zach said as we left the bookstore together a few hours later.

He brushed his dark blond hair off his face, took my hand, and swung it between us. I smiled, the adrenaline still surging through my body.

“I’m so happy for Nicole,” I added as we walked home.

My family owned the entire building that housed our yarn shop, The Stash, and Zach’s cafe. Above it was apartments that we customarily rented. I was living in one, and the other three were vacant. I liked living above the shop. It made it easy to engage in the work I loved. It also made it harder to set boundaries, but I was happy with the setup. I wanted to use the other spaces better. I had already started talking to them about possible ideas, and this fall, we needed to make some decisions.

“Do you want company tonight?” Zach asked, pulling me closer to him as we walked.

I sighed as he wrapped his arm around my waist, and I put my head on his shoulder as we walked. I always felt comfortable in his arms. No matter how long I knew Zach, I was always surprised at my attraction to him. His heart-shaped face was usually covered in light stubble, and his blue eyes were framed by heavy dirty blond eyebrows. His smile often seemed like a smirk, but I knew that was only because he was self-conscious about his teeth, and I knew it was because he had been teased when we were kids. Even after getting braces, he was reluctant to show more.

We had a very comfortable friends-with-benefits arrangement that began a few years ago when we built the cafe. He had come over one night to let me taste the cafe’s menu before it opened. I looked at him and realized in one moment that I wanted to know what it was like to kiss him. It had felt like it was what we were always supposed to do, but neither of us wanted a commitment.

“That would be nice,” I said and pulled him to my side before wrapping my arm around his waist. “You can spend the night if you want.”

Zach put his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. “That would be nice too.”

We walked into my apartment, and as I put my stuff down, some ideas popped into my head. I quickly found my journal and picked up my pen.

“No, no, no,” Zach said and took the pen out of my hand. “You can come back to that. If the ideas are any good, they’ll still be there later.”

I started to protest, to insist I had an idea that needed to be written down, but when he kissed my neck, I felt my desire take over. I let him lead me to my bedroom, and with a giggle, I forgot about my idea. It wasn’t until later, when I woke up in the middle of the night, that I remembered what I wanted to write down. I brought my journal into the spare bedroom that I used as an office. I started writing and lost track of time.

“What are you doing?” Zach asked me, taking the pen out of my hand.

I hadn’t realized I had been tapping it on the pages of my journal as I thought through my idea.

“I have an idea about how I can collaborate with Lisa,” I said, closing my journal and getting up. “Remember when we used to do those crafting classes at the Hartfield Center?”

Zach took my hand and led me back to bed. I couldn’t see his expression, but it was probably placating.

“I think all the supplies are somewhere in the store, and I simply need to find them,” I said before yawning.

Zach silently pulled the covers up as we got back into bed and turned out the light again. I rolled onto my side into his arms before I fell asleep, thinking about the places where those supplies could be.

Ooh! This seems like a very intriguing beginning! I love the small-town, small business environment! Each business already sounds charming and like one I’d want to visit! I’m curious about this friends-with-benefits relationship between Carrie and Zach. I wonder how that will play out… 🤔