Tangled Up in Princes (Royal Romances Book 1) by Molly Jameson Page A
Authors: Molly Jameson
Tags: Romance
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tolerate such behavior from her students, but Ella was only seven years old, so Carrie was inclined to cut her some slack.
"What seems to be the trouble?" Carrie asked in her most patient teacher voice.
Ella's face was red and her arms were crossed over her chest.
"I'm supposed to have twenty stitches, and I have thirty, that's what's wrong. I hate purling. I'll never figure it out. Never ever. Ever!" This last was accompanied by a foot stomp.
The girls around Ella tightened their grips on their own needles in case Ella decided more needle throwing was in order. Smart girls. Carrie retrieved Ella's yarn and needles and sat down next to her.
"Let's see if we can figure this out."
Carrie loved the kids’ class. She could tell from the very first day which ones were going to be passionate knitters and which kids were going to give it up in six months in favor of ballet or gymnastics. If she could pass on her love of knitting, a love given to her by her grandmother, then she could give these girls a hobby for a lifetime and endless hours of enjoyment. From a practical standpoint, the kids’ class was rewarding. Their problems were easy to solve -- unlike the problems Carrie faced outside this class.
"Now Ella, did you remember to move your yarn to the front before you made the purl stitches?"
Ella's shoulders slumped, "I forgot."
Carrie hugged the girl.
"It's okay. It's a mistake everybody makes when they're learning. Tell you what. I've got some cotton yarn in a bright yellow. How about you try a square of just purl stitches. It will make a beautiful dishrag, and the purl bumps will make it good for scrubbing. It can be a present for your mom. Once we get the hang of purling, then we'll go back to the pink scarf. Sound good?"
Ella agreed with a nod of her head and an oh-so-dramatic sigh. Sensing the girl was close to giving up, Carrie decided to cast on for her. She was almost finished when a delivery van parked in front of the shop. She wasn't expecting a delivery today. There must be some mistake. She was just about to go out and tell the driver as much when her mother breezed in from the stock room.
"Wonderful, the cashmere silk blend is here."
"What? I didn't order a Cashmere and silk blend."
"I know, but you'll love it. Everyone will love it.”
Carrie unpacked a skein from the box.
"It retails for $49.99 a skein."
"If you want quality, you have to pay for quality."
"There's a difference between wanting quality and being able to pay for a cashmere silk blend. My customers just aren't going to pay that price. This is Spring Valley, Kentucky, not Beverly Hills. How many of these skeins did you order anyway?"
She pawed through the box, the frighteningly large box.
"Seventy-five."
"What! You bought seventy-five skeins of this?"
"If you buy in bulk, the price per individual item is cheaper. Everybody knows that. Plus they were part of a close-out sale."
Carrie felt a headache building behind her eyes.
"Let me guess, that means they're nonrefundable."
Without warning, her mother burst into tears, great hiccuping sobs that had the students getting out of their chairs to come and see what was wrong. One little girl even started crying herself. Carrie shoved a travel pack of tissues at her mother while she broke out the granola bar and juice box snacks early. She had no hope of her mother being so easily placated.
"I was just trying to bring in some extra money. It isn't fair that we should have to pay for that wedding," her mother sobbed.
Not only was it unfair, it was impossible. Her parents just didn't have that kind of cash.
"I know Phillip's mother is angry, but surely she doesn't expect you and Dad to reimburse them for the wedding expenses. I mean, it isn't like you, or even Phillip and Amanda were consulted when the decisions were made."
"It's your father. He's so stubborn! He says we owe them after how things ended."
Carrie could see her father doing that, but he could leave retirement from
"What seems to be the trouble?" Carrie asked in her most patient teacher voice.
Ella's face was red and her arms were crossed over her chest.
"I'm supposed to have twenty stitches, and I have thirty, that's what's wrong. I hate purling. I'll never figure it out. Never ever. Ever!" This last was accompanied by a foot stomp.
The girls around Ella tightened their grips on their own needles in case Ella decided more needle throwing was in order. Smart girls. Carrie retrieved Ella's yarn and needles and sat down next to her.
"Let's see if we can figure this out."
Carrie loved the kids’ class. She could tell from the very first day which ones were going to be passionate knitters and which kids were going to give it up in six months in favor of ballet or gymnastics. If she could pass on her love of knitting, a love given to her by her grandmother, then she could give these girls a hobby for a lifetime and endless hours of enjoyment. From a practical standpoint, the kids’ class was rewarding. Their problems were easy to solve -- unlike the problems Carrie faced outside this class.
"Now Ella, did you remember to move your yarn to the front before you made the purl stitches?"
Ella's shoulders slumped, "I forgot."
Carrie hugged the girl.
"It's okay. It's a mistake everybody makes when they're learning. Tell you what. I've got some cotton yarn in a bright yellow. How about you try a square of just purl stitches. It will make a beautiful dishrag, and the purl bumps will make it good for scrubbing. It can be a present for your mom. Once we get the hang of purling, then we'll go back to the pink scarf. Sound good?"
Ella agreed with a nod of her head and an oh-so-dramatic sigh. Sensing the girl was close to giving up, Carrie decided to cast on for her. She was almost finished when a delivery van parked in front of the shop. She wasn't expecting a delivery today. There must be some mistake. She was just about to go out and tell the driver as much when her mother breezed in from the stock room.
"Wonderful, the cashmere silk blend is here."
"What? I didn't order a Cashmere and silk blend."
"I know, but you'll love it. Everyone will love it.”
Carrie unpacked a skein from the box.
"It retails for $49.99 a skein."
"If you want quality, you have to pay for quality."
"There's a difference between wanting quality and being able to pay for a cashmere silk blend. My customers just aren't going to pay that price. This is Spring Valley, Kentucky, not Beverly Hills. How many of these skeins did you order anyway?"
She pawed through the box, the frighteningly large box.
"Seventy-five."
"What! You bought seventy-five skeins of this?"
"If you buy in bulk, the price per individual item is cheaper. Everybody knows that. Plus they were part of a close-out sale."
Carrie felt a headache building behind her eyes.
"Let me guess, that means they're nonrefundable."
Without warning, her mother burst into tears, great hiccuping sobs that had the students getting out of their chairs to come and see what was wrong. One little girl even started crying herself. Carrie shoved a travel pack of tissues at her mother while she broke out the granola bar and juice box snacks early. She had no hope of her mother being so easily placated.
"I was just trying to bring in some extra money. It isn't fair that we should have to pay for that wedding," her mother sobbed.
Not only was it unfair, it was impossible. Her parents just didn't have that kind of cash.
"I know Phillip's mother is angry, but surely she doesn't expect you and Dad to reimburse them for the wedding expenses. I mean, it isn't like you, or even Phillip and Amanda were consulted when the decisions were made."
"It's your father. He's so stubborn! He says we owe them after how things ended."
Carrie could see her father doing that, but he could leave retirement from
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