Knitting Under the Influence

that.”

“Right,” Lucy said, “and Attila the Hun was probably a great guy when he was on vacation.”

“Meaning-?”

“That if you know someone's done some shitty things, you can't just take them the way they are at any given moment. You have to use the information you've got, remember the history. Sari shouldn't forget what she knows about Jason-I bet she couldn't, even if she wanted to.”

“She could give him another chance, though,” Kathleen said. “I mean, I did some lousy things in high school-I was this jock and I had a lot of jock friends and we all hung out and we were kind of the cool kids, and I don't think we were all that nice to some of the other kids. I wouldn't want to be judged by all that.”

“But maybe you should be,” Lucy said.

“When did you get so rigid?” Kathleen said. “Haven't you ever wanted someone to give you the benefit of the doubt?”

“I’m not rigid,” Lucy said. “I can see both sides of a lot of issues. I mean, James is rigid. Compared to him, I’m the most tolerant person in the world.”

Kathleen raised her eyebrows. “First Saddam Hussein, then James. You keep going to extremes.”

“Are you saying my boyfriend is like Saddam Hussein?”

“No,” Kathleen said. “He's better-looking. But I want to go back to talking about Cute Asshole Guy. Sari, be honest-do you want to sleep with him?”

“Yes,” Sari said with a sigh. “So much. Physically he's everything I’d want in a guy. He has the most incredible body…”

“So…?” Kathleen said.

“You know why I can't.”

“What happened to the plan?” Lucy said, looking up from her knitting.

“What plan?”

“The go-out-with-him-and-ruin-his-life plan.”

“Oooo,” Kathleen said. “I like that plan.”

“Take it-it's yours,” Sari said. “I don't want a plan.”

“She can't have it,” Lucy said. “I made that one especially for you. Kathleen has her own plan. The marry- him-and-take-his-money-and-then-divorce-him plan.”

“I never said I was going to divorce him.” Kathleen took a swig of coffee. “That would be wrong. I intend to stay married to Kevin forever. Assuming, you know, we get married in the first place.”

“What was that?” Lucy said with a jump and a startled look around. “I just heard a noise in your kitchen. You don't have a cat, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then-”

They all turned toward the kitchen door in time to see Sam Kaplan emerge. “Oh, sorry,” he said, halting at the doorway. “Didn't realize you had company.”

“It's okay.” Kathleen dropped her knitting and scrambled to her feet. “Sari, Lucy-my upstairs neighbor. Sam.”

“The guy who owns the building?” Lucy said. “Does that mean you're allowed to come sneaking into people's apartments without knocking?”

“Actually, I did knock,” Sam said. He was dressed neatly in a pair of khakis and a blue polo shirt. “I always knock, but Kathleen never hears me. She usually has that iPod thing coming out of her ears. And, believe me, she has no great respect for my privacy.” He turned to Kathleen. “I was on my way to pick up the newspaper and get some coffee. You want anything?”

“We have coffee,” Sari said. “One of those big cardboard Starbucks thingies that hold like twelve cups. Please have some.

Or we'll be shaking all day.”

“There are donuts, too,” Kathleen said.

“I haven't eaten a donut in thirty years,” he said. “So what do you girls think of what Kathleen's done to the apartment?”

“Minimalist,” Lucy said and he laughed.

“This used to be a nice apartment, believe it or not.” He looked back and forth among them. “I thought Kathleen was the only woman under the age of sixty who liked to knit, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Shows how much you know,” Kathleen said. “Tons of girls our age knit. It's very hip.”

“Really?” Sam said. “Why? Sweaters are cheap these days- you can't possibly save any money knitting your own. And it takes forever, doesn't it?”

“You don't do it to save money,” Lucy said. “This yarn cost me more than five sweaters at the Gap. But that's not the point. It's therapy.”

Sam shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “I don't get it. It would drive me nuts to do something like that-just sitting there, playing with yarn for hours.”

“It keeps our hands busy while we talk,” Kathleen said. “We talk a lot.”

“Then I really can't stay,” Sam said. “I can only imagine what three pretty young women talk about while they knit. No, actually I can't. And don't want to. Goodbye, girls.”

“I’ll be up later to read the paper,” Kathleen said.

“Of course you will,” he said and left, cutting through the living room to the front door.

“So that's the famous Sam Kaplan,” Lucy said once the door had closed behind him.

“Is he famous?” Kathleen resumed her place on the airbed.

“I had no idea.”

“You know what I mean. Strange guy.”

“No shit.”

“So you two just run in and out of each other's apartments, huh?”

“Sometimes.”

Lucy looked at Sari. “That's sort of an unusual arrangement, don't you think? Do you run in and out of your neighbors’ apartments, Sari?”

“Hardly. Sometimes we run into each other at the trash chute.”

“I’ve never even met my neighbors,” Lucy said. “Kathleen, what's going on here?”

“Nothing,” Kathleen said. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Why not?” Kathleen said. “When have you ever known me to be coy about my love life?”

“She makes an excellent point,” Sari said.

“Well, good,” Lucy said. “He looks old enough to be your father.”

“So?” Kathleen said. “I’ve gone out with guys that much older than me before.”

“I’m sure you have,” Lucy said. “Is there any age you haven't covered?”

“I try to stay away from the under-five crowd. They have this whole breast fixation thing I find very disturbing.”

“Plus they never pick up a check,” Lucy said.

Sari laughed. “Speaking of babies-” She held up the blanket. “I’m just about done with this. Where do you guys stand on fringe? For or against?”

“It would be pretty,” Kathleen said, but Lucy shook her head. “You can't put fringe on a baby blanket. They could choke on it.”

“No, they couldn't,” Kathleen said. “That's impossible.”

“How would you know?”

“How would you?

“Let's face it,” Sari said. “None of us knows anything about babies. But I’ll skip the fringe, just to be safe. Do you-” She was interrupted by a loud ring tone of the first few bars of Gwen Stefani's “Rich Girl.” Kathleen shifted over and peered down at her cell phone, which was lying face-up on the floor.

“One of my sisters,” she said, settling back. “I’ll let it go to voice mail.”

“What's going on with them, anyway?” Sari said. “Are they still mad at you for moving out?”