Threading the Needle by Marie Bostwick Page B

to Edna, who took me to see the optometrist, who was not fooled. Edna was furious. In the parking lot outside his office, she slapped me across the face so hard my ears rang. It was the first slap of many.
    Tessa wasn’t just my friend; she was my ideal. My idol. I didn’t just want her; I wanted to be her. I wanted her life, her family, the love and acceptance I’d been denied. Her family was part of the package. They were so happy, so wonderfully normal. That’s what I wanted, just to be happy and normal. Just to be like Tessa.
    At ten, at eleven, at twelve, at thirteen, I was too young to understand that love isn’t a mirror, reflecting back what you’re feeling word for word, gesture for gesture. I didn’t know that sometimes, that most of the time, love goes unrequited.
    I do now.

8
    Tessa
    September
    Â 
    L ee slipped his arms into his blue blazer and turned toward me.
    â€œHow do I look?”
    â€œGood,” I answered before wiping away a trace of shaving cream his razor had missed. “Definitely the best man for the job.”
    â€œYeah?” He peered into the bathroom mirror and examined his reflection, as if worried that I was just being nice.
    I wasn’t. He did look good. Farmwork had made his shoulders wider, more solid, and his face, bronzed brown from working out of doors, was handsome against the crisp white collar of his shirt. But the sight of him dressed so formally depressed me. I knew he’d rather be wearing overalls and barn boots than a blazer and wingtips.
    Lee flicked imaginary lint off his lapel. “Tie or no tie?”
    â€œNo tie. It’s just a temp job. You don’t want to look too anxious.”
    â€œI am anxious. I need this job. No point in pretending I don’t.” He pulled a blue paisley tie out of his jacket pocket and looped it around his neck. “The head of HR is George Kortekass’s cousin. He called her and put in a good word for me.”
    George Kortekass was another accountant in Lee’s division back in Boston. It was nice of him to recommend Lee, but I really wasn’t keen on the idea of his taking this job; the company was clear on the other side of the state. Still, the pay was pretty decent.
    â€œHere,” I said, taking the ends of Lee’s tie. “Let me do that for you.”
    â€œThanks.” He sniffed and leaned his head closer to my hair. “You smell good.”
    â€œIt’s a new shampoo I’ve been working on—orange and clove. I thought it might be good for the holidays. What time is your interview?”
    â€œNot until eleven, but I want to get down there early. You never know what kind of traffic you’ll run into on Ninety-five.”
    I finished making the knot and slid it into place under his shirt collar. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Stamford is such a long commute.”
    â€œWinter is coming. We need to order heating oil before the prices go up. If there were any job openings closer to home, I’d take them. Nobody’s hiring.”
    â€œI know. But maybe if I . . .”
    Lee made an impatient noise, half sigh, half growl. “We’ve been over this ten times. It has to be me. A good holiday season for the shop would solve all our problems, and you’re the only one who can make that happen. I’ve got no idea how to make citrus and clove shampoo. You do.” He stretched his neck and hooked his finger inside his shirt collar, trying to get more comfortable. “Besides, it’s not that far.”
    â€œHour and a half each way.”
    â€œIt’d just be for a few months.” He smoothed the lapels of his jacket and looked at his watch. “Gotta scoot. I’ll drop those coolers of tea off at the church before I leave town. Can you collect the eggs before you go?”
    â€œSure. When will you be home?”
    â€œDunno.”
    â€œCall me when you do. I’ll be at the church helping out