Hooked on You, Kathleen Fuller [book club suggestions TXT] 📗

to visit her cousin in Missouri. Bea was an excellentcook and taught Riley how to make bourbon balls—minus the bourbon of course. Riley hadn’t made them since, but she suddenlyhad an urge to taste them again.

“It looks like all the inventory is on the floor,” Bea added as Riley balanced skeins of ugly yarn on one of the shelves.

“Don’t forget all that stuff over there.” Riley gestured with a skein of scratchy mauve wool to the other side of the store.

Bea waddled over. “Ah, right. This could have been worse. Let me help you pick up.”

Riley held up her hand. “It’s my mess. I’ll clean it up.” She tilted her head toward the back of the store. “What’s Mimi doingback there?”

“Trying not to ram into anything with her leg.”

“I wish she hadn’t insisted on coming in today.” Riley had surprisingly gotten a good night’s sleep in her old bedroom. Withthe exception of a new bedspread and sheets, everything in the room was exactly how she’d left it. She had intended to tellMimi first thing that she was going to clean up her house. Her grandmother had never been the tidiest woman, but Riley couldsee she had let the housework go.

Her plan flew out the window when the first words from Mimi’s mouth were, “After breakfast we’re going to Knots and Tangles.”Riley had no choice but to comply.

“You know your grandmother,” Bea said, dabbing at her forehead with a handkerchief, then sticking it in the pocket of herpurple-and-white flowered skirt. “She’s gonna do what she wants to do.” She glanced back at the entrance to the back room.“I’d better go check on her. We were talking about snacks for tonight’s BB meeting.”

Riley had forgotten today was Thursday. Every Thursday night, except for holidays and illness, the Bosom Buddies met at Knotsand Tangles. She was glad her grandmother hadn’t canceled the weekly mainstay on her account.

A slightly less catastrophic crash sounded from the back of the store.

“Mimi?” Riley called out.

“Erma?” Bea said at the same time.

“I’m fine! Just a little mishap.”

Bea sighed. “I’m sure it was more than a mishap.” She leaned closer to Riley. “We’ve all been trying to get her to organizethe place, but she insists it doesn’t need it. She knows where every ball of yarn and every knitting needle is, but the disorganizationmakes it hard for new customers to browse. Some take one look at the craziness and walk right out.”

“Really?” Riley frowned. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.” Bea stood back. “Hopefully while you’re here you can talk some sense into her.”

She thought about her scheme to convince Mimi to sell the store. It was becoming clearer that her grandmother couldn’t handleKnots and Tangles and take care of her home, even when she wasn’t laid up.

With a smile Bea gave Riley a hug. “It’s good to see you, darlin’. I know the rest of the BBs are excited that you’ve comeback.”

“I haven’t—”

But Bea was already headed to save Mimi from whatever had happened in the back cavern of the shop.

Riley shook her head. She stepped around the yarn scattered on the floor and set her purse on a wooden chest next to the orangelaminate countertop, then went back and attacked the mess. She organized the spilled yarn by brand, then by color, and bythe time Mimi and Bea made it to the front of the store over an hour later, Riley had filled one of the shelving units.

“That looks nice, sugar.” Mimi grinned and rested her forearms on the wheelchair arms. “But how did you manage to knock overfive shelves?”

Both Riley and Bea faced her. “It’s impossible to move in this store,” Bea said.

“It’s not impossible,” Mimi muttered. “A tad challenging, but not impossible.”

As Bea sighed, Riley placed several hanks of cream-colored alpaca wool on another shelf. The crowded shop wasn’t the onlyreason she’d knocked over the shelves. She’d been focused on the way she abruptly ended her conversation with Hayden and hadn’tbeen paying attention. Erma and Bea didn’t need to know that tidbit of info.

“I’m not getting into this argument with you again, Erma, so I guess I’ll be on my way.” Bea picked up her black patent leatherpurse off the front counter and slung it over her shoulder. Riley was convinced the bag had come straight from the same decadethat produced the hideous seventies-style yarn she’d picked up earlier. “Those cheese crackers aren’t going to make themselves,”she said, turning to Riley. “Maybe we can make some bourbon balls soon. This time we’ll add the bourbon.” She winked at Rileyand then said to Mimi, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Mimi waved at her, then sat back in her chair, shifting in the seat. “You’re welcome to join us, Riley. We’re knittin’ someknockers tonight.”

“You’re what?” Riley asked, peeking around the second full shelf.

“Knitted knockers. I’m crocheting mine, but the rest of the girls prefer to knit them. They’re for breast cancer patientswho have had mastectomies.”

“That’s a nice gesture,” Riley said, picking up the last of the yarn.

“Have you crocheted or knitted lately?”

“No.” She carefully placed the last skein of yarn on the shelf, then went to her grandmother. “I’ve been too busy.”

“With your art.” Mimi smiled. “Don’t worry, picking it back up will be like riding a bike.”

“I wasn’t good at riding my bike, remember?”

“Oh. That’s right. Don’t worry, sugar, crocheting doesn’t require any athletic ability.”

Riley smirked, then sat in the old stuffed chair near the front of the store. The “Man Chair,” Mimi called it, since it wasavailable to any poor husband or boyfriend who’d been dragged to the yarn store by his significant other. The chair, upholsteredin goldenrod, avocado-green, and burnt-orange flowers, was anything but manly, but it was comfortable, and Riley rememberedthe snores of more than one male who had fallen asleep in it.

She looked around the store, memories flooding her again. She’d spent a lot of time here, back when the store hadn’t beenas disorganized and there were more customers, most of them regulars who stopped in once or twice a week to buy yarn and