Farewell to Cedar Key by Terri Dulong

She knows the locals, and I think she’ll be both competent and easy to work with. So I want to thank you for recommending her.”
    â€œI totally agree, and it was my pleasure.”
    â€œI also know I mentioned getting together last Friday when I was here, but I had to leave as soon as I did the interview with Brandy.”
    â€œOh . . . no . . . that’s fine. I understand.”
    â€œThanks, but I’d like to take you to dinner. Are you free this evening? I know it’s short notice, but figured I’d ask.”
    I felt my heart drop. Damn. “Oh, geez, no. I’m sorry. I have my first knitting class in about an hour.”
    â€œWell, I’m here till Friday morning. Would you be free tomorrow evening?”
    I normally went to the knitting group on Thursday evenings, but let’s see—Doctor McDreamy or knitting group? “Actually, yes, I am.”
    â€œGreat. How about if I make a reservation for seven at the Island Room? Would that work for you?”
    â€œIt would,” I said, knowing I was feeling more excited than I should be.
    â€œGreat,” he said again. “So we’ll meet there at seven?”
    â€œSounds good,” I told him before hanging up.
    You silly goose, I thought. I’m meeting him at the restaurant. That doesn’t really constitute a date. Does it?
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    I looked across the table at four men with anxious expressions on their faces.
    â€œOkay,” I said, leaning forward. “First rule of knitting. Relax. Have fun. No need to be stressed.”
    I heard four collective sighs, and my dad threw me a smile and a wink.
    â€œFirst I’m going to teach you to cast on. There’s lots of ways to do this, and over time you’ll learn different ones, but I think the easiest for a beginning knitter is the long tail cast on.” I proceeded to demonstrate how to hold the yarn and the needles and slowly began casting on as I explained to them. “So take your time, there’s no rush, and if that’s all you learn tonight, that’s fine.”
    I watched as Doyle, Saxton, Gabe, and my dad fumbled with their yarn and needle.
    â€œLike this?” Doyle questioned. “Am I doing it right?”
    I got up to stand behind him and check his work. “You are,” I told him. “Yay for you.” I peeked over the shoulders of the others and saw the only one who seemed to be a bit clumsy was my dad. I leaned over to position his fingers a bit better. “Try holding it like this.”
    After a few moments he nodded. “Much better. Thanks, Josie.”
    Within a few more minutes it was easy to see that all four men had gotten the hang of it.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Now I want you to take that apart and start over. This time cast on thirty stitches, not too tight, not too loose.”
    I did the same with my sample as I kept one eye on them.
    When they had finished, I inspected their work. “Perfect,” I said. “You guys are born knitters. Now I’ll teach you how to do a knit stitch.”
    Again, I demonstrated while sitting with my back to them and holding my knitting to the side so that they could see it from the correct position. Slowly I inserted my right needle while explaining what to do. I finished my row and turned around.
    â€œAny questions?” When all four men said no, I said, “Okay. Now you try. I’ll walk behind to make sure you’re getting it.”
    They were slow, they were a bit clumsy, but by golly, they were knitting stitches.
    At one point, Saxton got a little tangled with the yarn and Doyle realized he’d dropped a stitch, but I helped them out and they kept going.
    â€œSo if I kept doing this, I could make a scarf?” my father questioned.
    â€œYou could, and that would be the garter stitch. You just knit every row. So let’s do a few more rows and then I’ll teach you how to purl. When you alternate with a row of