This week’s Tuesday Tale:
Jill picked up her needles and yarn after turning on the television. Her husband enjoyed watching the ballgames. Jill could not care less. She didn’t even know who was playing. She liked being near him so over the years she learned to enjoy his company by sharing in the time in front of the television. She never looked up at the screen, she just stitched away.
The metallic click of her needles kept pace with the announcers animated play-by-play. Jill set down her knitting to sip her tea. The sweater she was working on would be finished soon. Out of habit she picked up the project and examined it for flaws, but she hadn’t found a flaw in over five years. Her husband said she could knit blind folded, but Jill thought that was taking it a bit too far.
Her granddaughter wasn’t old enough to appreciate the sweater and her daughter insisted that the last two she sent were worthless because they were stationed in Biloxi, Mississippi now where there was no need for knit clothing. Jill ignored those remarks. She could not fathom a place too warm for sweaters.
The announcer yelled something about a double play and even Jill looked up to see the replay. She smiled. Her husband would say something about it being a helluva play. She slapped her knee like he did and then went back to her knitting as if nothing significant had happened. Jill was happy that she had connected with his beloved game. She paused a moment in her knitting and wondered why she hadn’t embraced it sooner. Determined to make up for the lost years, Jill sat down her yarn work. Like her daughter said, the sweater wasn’t even needed in Mississippi.
She went to the kitchen and took out one of her husband’s beers. If she was going to enjoy things his way, she was going to go all out. She smiled devilishly as she popped the cap off the long neck bottle. Her husband would be shocked. She strolled back into the living room confidently. She could picture herself. She must be a sight: an old, sweater-knitting grandma drinking a beer and watching a ballgame on the television. She chuckled.
The phone rang and Jill scrambled to answer the receiver before it disrupted the game. Her husband hated it when someone called during a wind up and pitch.
It was Sarah, her daughter in Mississippi.
“Oh, hi dear. Just watching the ballgame… Oh, yes, dear, I said the ballgame… Yes, dear, I took my medication… Everything is fine, dear. Don’t worry about me. Oh, and I’ve decided not to make little Laura a sweater this year… Alright, dear, let me go. The commercials are off now and I don’t want to miss the next pitch… Well, your father never missed a single pitch. I don’t see what’s so odd about that… Okay, good-bye, dear.”
Jill hung up the phone. Children, they always thought you were going crazy. Jill shook her head and then sipped her beer. She found the liquid disgusting and set it down on the end table. She didn’t know how her husband drank that stuff. She nibbled on the peanuts instead.
She watched all nine innings before she turned off the television. Her husband would have liked that game. She stared at his empty recliner for a while. That was the first World Series game he had missed.
Thanks for reading! Comment below with your thoughts, likes or critiques. -Abby