1 post tagged “knitting”

There's an old knitter's superstition that you're not supposed to knit for a boyfriend, only a husband, or it will end the relationship.  She was never quite sure whether she did it in defiance of superstition or to tempt fate.  She had thought at two and a half years, "what more is he waiting to learn about me? If he's not jumping up and down to marry me now, when everything is still young and beautiful and alive, will he ever?"  At four years, she had grown impatient enough to make her frustration known. At six years, she knew she had been right at two and a half years, "If he didn't want to marry me then, he never will. More time to get to know each other is just more time to come up with more reasons why I'm not the one for him."  But she couldn't give him an ultimatum.  She knew that to do that she would have to be able to walk away and she didn't know if she could do that as long as she still loved him.  So if the superstition is true, then maybe if I knit him something it will force things to a head.

The scarf was 100% crème-colored cashmere. She designed the scarf herself from a basic King Charles brocade, a 12-stitch repeating diamond pattern, with a 9-stitch wide, seed stitch border on either side, echoing the seed stitch of the diamond brocades. Looking at it now, she was quite pleased with her product. Her design sense was always exquisite, and the elements she chose reflected excellent taste. Still, she questioned her decision to place a 2-stitch stockinette gutter between the main brocade panel and the outer border, as it caused two natural folds along the length of the scarf where the borders started. But the two-by-two ribbed edges were perfect.

It had taken 14 balls on number 6 needles, over $300 worth of yarn, and 6 months of her life to finish, and she had raced to get it done on Christmas eve to give to him as a present. He had known, of course, that she was making it the whole time. It wasn’t meant to be a surprise. She had consulted him on the pattern and width and length he wanted, as well as the color and weight of the yarn. When it was finished, he loved it. He took it with him whenever he traveled in the winter and proudly displayed its label to anyone who commented on the scarf. “My girlfriend made it for me,” he would say. He really did love it, didn’t he? I suppose that’s some evidence, anyway, that he loved me once too.

They hadn’t spoken in over three months, after fighting over his not making time to let her take him out for his birthday. They had been broken up for over a year after all. He didn’t owe her his birthday anymore. At least, that was the way he saw it.  She ranted and screamed and hung up the phone and hadn’t spoken to him since. But she started to fear that something would happen to the scarf. He had always been absented minded. What if he lost it, left it in an airport, on a plane, in a rental car in some Podunk town in middle America somewhere? Or worse. What if he left it lying around for some new girlfriend to discover and accidentally destroy out of jealousy or insecurity. She had to get it back.

When she called to ask him, she did so very frankly and practically, without any drama. He was surprisingly gracious and understanding.

“I don’t mean it to be petty. It’s just that I spent a lot of money and time and work on that scarf and it means a lot to me. It meant something to me to give it to you, but now you don’t love me anymore, so why would you want to keep it?”

“Ok,” he said slowly. He sounded a little hurt but not too badly. He made a joke, “I’m sure I can get it back from the girl I gave it to…” and waited for her to supply the punchline.

She smiled out of relief, “Don’t even joke about that.”

“I would never do that.”

“Oh really?”

“Of course not. It’s too special.”

“Thanks.”

So maybe he did love her once.