I drafted, but never finished, a novel called Her Yarn Is Organized, about three friends, comfortably middle-aged, and the different paths each take in response to the election. Julie breaks out of her introverted shell to embrace activist organizing; Maeve resists involvement, but ends up finding love; and Lyndsay (not in this scene) runs for state senator. The following excerpt from the book captures the evening that triggers it all.
Excerpt from Her Yarn Is Organized
Maeve was out the door before Julie even came to a complete stop. Tonight was the monthly meeting of the Knitwits and it was Julie’s turn to drive. Maeve opened the passenger door and tossed in her overflowing knitting basket and then stiffly lowered herself into the passenger seat of Julie’s orange SUV. She was still dressed in her work clothes—dark tights, a navy wool pencil skirt and a fuchsia-pink boiled-wool blazer with matching pink turtleneck sweater underneath. She sported an “I Voted” sticker on the blazer’s lapel. The only other accessories were her favorite owl-shaped Cloisonné earrings dangling from her earlobes.
“You look nice,” Julie said, wearing her usual black jeans topped by a handknit raglan sweater and a fleece jacket. She also wore the “I Voted” sticker. “But then you always do. How’s your ankle? You’re moving a bit stiff there.”
Julie put the car in reverse and backed down the long narrow plant-lined driveway, blessing whoever invented backup cameras.
“We had a special event yesterday at the university for the international students,” Maeve responded, “and I swear I was on my feet for eight straight hours. I didn’t get home until 10:00 last night. So I’m a little achy. When I get home tonight, it’s the warm castor oil and flannel poultice treatment for me. I don’t know why you won’t try that for your knees. It may be an old home remedy, but it really works.”
“I know, I know. I’m just perfectly fine with the muscle rub and ibuprofen.” Julie shrugged and changed the subject. “So how are you feeling about tonight? I’m a little nervous, to tell you the truth. I was reading Nate Silver’s Five-Thirty-Eight blog this morning and he dropped Lockhart’s chances to something like 70%. Kinda late for a wake up call, but I got the message—it’s not a sure thing.”
This month the Knitwits gathering fell on election night. The members briefly considered rescheduling it, since Elaine was an election judge and wouldn’t be able to join them, but then decided it would be fun to be able to celebrate together when the first woman President of the United States was elected.
Maeve thought for a moment before replying. “All the other predictions have her at better than 90%. I just cannot believe Temple can win. Surely, surely more voters will see through the rhetoric and reject him for decency’s sake if anything.”
“Then it comes down to voter turnout,” Julie remarked. “And what the undecided people do. If they don't vote or they vote third party because they don't like either candidate, then we could be in big trouble.”
They both lapsed into silence. Julie concentrated on the road, since this was hunting season and the deer were riled up and liable to leap out of the roadside vegetation and onto the highway.
Maeve broke the silence first, changing the subject to change the mood. “Owen did the cutest thing this morning when we were FaceTiming.”
“What was that?”
“Nicole positioned her iPhone so I could also see Oliver while I was talking to Owen. Anyway, Owen didn’t like that. So he deliberately moved the phone to where I could only see him. Just reached out with one finger and nudged it, plain as day.”
“Cute. Doesn’t want to share his grandma with the new kid, huh?”
“Nope. Guess it wasn’t part of the deal when Oliver was born. I have to say, I really struggled not to laugh. But I didn’t rat him out to Nicole, who wasn’t paying attention.”
“So the question is if he’ll share you with the baby when you go out there at Christmas.”
“I’ll manage. I love that boy to death and I just don’t feel the connection with Oliver yet. I probably won’t until I hold him in my arms. I remember it was love at first sight with Owen. But Nicole and Brad were in Chicago and it was so easy to go there on weekends.”
“Yeah. How dare they move to San Francisco to pursue their dreams!”
“Not funny. You’re an Air Force brat. You wouldn’t understand.”
Julie just laughed. “Here we are. Looks like somebody’s here already.”
They pulled into Claire’s driveway, where a car was already parked. They could see Katy and Shelly through the front window as they walked up the sidewalk. After letting them in the front door, Claire took their jackets and ushered them into the living room before heading back to the kitchen to get the wine and snacks.
The television in the living room was tuned to CNN with the volume barely audible. Maeve claimed the upholstered chair next to the lamp table, and Julie plopped on the sofa perpendicular to it. Both had a good view of the television. Katy and Shelly were on the loveseat on the other side of the coffee table, trying to sort out some hopelessly tangled yarn. Janet hadn’t yet arrived, but then she was always late and would most likely come bustling in later with tales of the crazy day she had. Sonya, the newest member, wasn’t feeling well and had stayed home.
Claire’s home was sophisticated and elegant, reflecting Claire herself. She took an ordinary townhome with ugly carpet and a very outdated kitchen and bath, and gradually converted it to a modern, contemporary home with the feeling of being in a big city loft. The kitchen cabinets were glass-fronted and creamy white instead of the original country oak. The backsplash was a mosaic of small tiles in shades of black, gray and cream; and the countertops were dark gray granite with speckles that gave it a lovely depth. On the counter was the wine and glasses, but not much else.
"What happened?" Maeve asked the two women on the couch.
"Oh, I was pulling the yarn from the center and it all came out in a big glump," Katy answered.
"Your yarn barfed, huh?" Julie teased.
"Well, it's pretty—once we get it untangled and she can work with it, that is," Shelly added without looking up. "It would help if we could find the other end."
Maeve busied herself with digging through her knitting basket and came up with a partially finished object that was still unrecognizeable.
"What are you working on, Maeve?" Claire asked, coming back into the room with a plate of assorted cheeses and crackers. She looked quizzically at the object in question.
"It's a stuffie for Oliver—a little hippo if I can get the head right." Maeve held up the pattern so they could see the picture.
"Cute. Who wants red and who wants white wine?" Orders taken, Claire went back to the kitchen to fetch the drinks.
"Is that the sweater you were working on last time?" asked Janet, who had just breezed in and was settling into the last vacant chair. "It's gorgeous!"
"Thank you," answered Julie, smiling brightly. She stood up and twirled around for all to see. "I just finished blocking it yesterday. I may have to knit this pattern again, it was so easy."
"Looks like I could even knit it," commented Katy, as she wound the free end of her yarn into a ball. "I'll have to get a copy of that pattern."
"So Shelly," began Maeve. "Are you going to make it to Antarctica this year?"
"I am!" Shelly answered with an ear to ear grin. "Two weeks from now. A friend and I are taking a tour that starts in Buenos Aires, goes through the Falkland Islands, then Antarctica, and finally back up the Chilean coast. I'm so excited!"
"Any chance it goes to Uraguay? That's where Malibrigo yarn comes from. I would love to visit their operation," Julie asked with longing in her voice.
“Turn up the volume,” Katy suggested. “It looks like some results are coming in.”
The time was around 7:30 and a number of states had been called already. The electoral vote was close at 68 for Lockhart and 66 for Temple.
"That's ok," Julie said. "Those states have all gone as expected. It's the swing states to watch. Like Florida and some of the big rust belt states."
"Anybody want some apple cake?" Claire asked. "Elaine made it."
The women put down their knitting as Maeve got up and helped pass the plates of dessert around. They were emptied quickly.
By 9:00, Temple had pulled ahead to 140 electoral votes compared to Lockhart’s 104. Katy inhaled sharply and looked worried.
"It's ok, she can still do it," Maeve commented. "There's still plenty of votes to go."
Virginia and Colorado were called for Lockhart just before 9:30, but as soon as the knitters started to relax, Ohio was called for Temple.
"Jeez Louise," Julie exclaimed. "This is tense. It wasn't supposed to be this close."
Claire brought the bottles of wine into the room and refilled glasses.
California and Hawaii was called for Lockhart and she made up lost ground electorally, for just a minute. Then, a little after 10:00, North Carolina went to Temple and it was 190 for Lockhart versus 187 for Temple.
"Now what?" Katy asked, looking at Julie who seemed to know the most about it all.
"Well, I read some articles online today that talked about the various paths to victory for Temple. There's some key states where Lockhart can't afford to lose more than three, I think. Ohio was one, and she just lost another with North Carolina, but she got Colorado and Virginia. Now she needs Florida, Wisconsin, Michigan and Pennsylvania. She can't afford to lose any one of them and they're awfully close—too close to call if I'm hearing it right."
They watched, the knitting and noshing ceasing altogether as Florida went to Temple twenty minutes later. The room was deadly quiet.
With a small voice, Shelly asked, "Is that it?"
“Temple just won," Julie clarified with disbelief in her voice. "Temple won."
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I think I need something stronger than wine,” Maeve said, breaking the silence. “Do you have any Jack Daniels, Claire?”
“I think I’d like to head home instead,” Julie said before Claire could respond. “While I still have some wits about me and all my brain cells haven’t gone into shock yet.”
The meeting broke up. There weren’t the usual happy goodbyes or plans being made for the next month. This wasn’t normal. There was a sense that nothing was normal anymore. Could there have been a huge mistake?
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