Part Four The Red Sweater Serial

During the month of April I participated in the A to Z blogging challenge.  A first for me, I attempted fiction for the first time.  I had such fun with it that I decided to give it another go.

This time I will be writing a serial type of story.

As I meander through my imagination, I expect an episode to take shape in time to be posted each Tuesday.  (Oops, a day late this week.)
If you would like to catch up simply click on the “Red Sweater Serial Tab” at the top of the blog. 

Part Four

When is Mary going to come help me out of bed? Adele impatiently thought, as she looked at her watch for the fourth time.
This was the day that the doctor was going to take the cast off of Adele’s ankle.
A youthful looking, active woman, Adele would be turning 75 in a few months.  She walked 2 miles every day, rain or shine.
She gave up dying her hair years ago and usually wore her shoulder length pure white hair tied back in girlish pony tail.
She and Jane, her best friend and next door neighbor, were on one of their walks on the “path” the day that she had the accident.
The “path” as it was commonly known by the locals, was a groomed 8 mile nature trail maintained by the town.  It meandered along the old abandoned railroad tracks.
She clearly recalled the details of that day.
They had been walking at a steady pace, chatting away, when Jane let out a scream.  Startled, Adele literally jumped backwards.  The next thing Adele knew, she was on the ground, her foot twisted underneath her body.
The reason for the scream was a fallen tree branch that Jane mistook for a snake.  Another indication that Jane’s eyesight was beginning to fail.
As Jane tried to help her up, Adele gasped with pain when she attempted to put her foot down.  With Adele’s arm flung over Jane’s shoulder and Jane’s arm wrapped tightly around Adele’s waist, the two women managed to get back to the car, Adele hobbling on one foot the whole way.
Adele had been laid up with her injury for the past six weeks.
This was the first time she could remember having to be still for such a long period of time.
“Addie, don’t let the grass grow under those feet,” Bob used to tease her.
Even when everyone, including herself,  had the flu that time, Adele managed to take care of Bob and the girls, sneaking in a few minutes of rest when she could.
Now, comforted by the warmth of the sun room, she spent hours sitting, staring out at the clouds and reflecting back on her life.
The accident had made Adele realize that she was vulnerable and that she was not invincible.
She was anxious for Rachel to get back.   Adele knew the time was right to tell her youngest daughter the truth.  
She was afraid.  She wondered if Rachel would understand why Adele had lied to her.   She worried that  her daughter might never be able to forgive her.
Bob hadn’t agreed with the decision. He and Adele had argued many times over it.  Adele was strong willed and usually got her way, especially with Bob and eventually he gave in.  The only way Adele would agree to the “arrangement” was with the stipulation that she and Bob had to be informed of the details, all of them.
Spending most days of the past weeks in this room awakened memories of that time.
Adele reminisced about cool spring days of so many years ago.   Rachel would sit in this very sun room after school doing homework.  Some afternoons Rachel would sit propped up against the sofa at Adele’s feet, her head resting in her mother’s lap.   As she wound a loose tendril of Rachel’s silky hair around her finger Adele was reminded of tiny baby fists.
Rachel, barely into her teens, taught herself to knit.  Adele recalled the day she and Rachel were browsing in the yarn shop.
Rachel selected two skeins of soft, squishy “Persimmon Red”.
“That’s an unusual color, choice sweetie,” Adele said to her daughter.
She tried to entice her with pastels like “Petal Yellow” or “Minty Green”.
“No.”  Rachel insisted, "It must be ‘Persimmon Red’, for my heart’s love.”
Adele affectionally recalled the determined look of concentration on Rachel’s face.  Her brow furrowed, her lips barely moving as she counted under her breath,”Knit two, purl two, knit two, purl two.”  Soon the sweater began to take shape.
Mary knocked on the bedroom door calling, “Morning, Addie.   Time to get ready to go to the doctor’s.”
Adele’s phone rang.  Rachel’s number displayed on the screen.
“Mom?”  Rachel voice sounded strange.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  You knew.  All of these years and you knew.”