Pirateless in the Caribbean

Nichole

"You know, Sammy, I usually think pirates are pretty hot, but in this movie Johnny Depp is just a little too grungy for me. Give me Orlando Bloom any day." Nikki sighed and pulled her gaze away from the television screen where Orlando valiantly fought a losing battle in the first "Pirates of the Caribbean" movie—her favorite—and focused on her knitting.

Sammy, her ginger tabby, purred in response from her favorite spot at the foot of the comfy padded rocking chair nearby. She tucked her paws more securely beneath her.

Reaching the end of her row, Nikki paused to hold her work up. "This is turning out better than I'd hoped," she said, as she inspected the scalloped edge of the lacy panel with a critical eye. "I've never tried knitting a bathing suit before, but when I saw the pattern for this monokini, I could just imagine Stephanie wearing it. She'll look amazing in this.

"If I can ever get her to put it on." She carefully placed the unused skeins of special swimsuit yarn into her workbasket. "That girl doesn't know the meaning of the word stop. I don't think she's taken a break from her job in at least three or four years. She needs a vacation, and soon."

Nikki eyed the TV screen again where Johnny was currently sailing someone else's ship out of a tropical island cove. She clasped her hands together under her chin, her knitting bunched in her fists. Sighing, she closed her eyes.

"Just imagine how romantic it would be to get marooned on an island with a pirate as yummy as Orlando." She opened her eyes and smiled at Sammy.

"That's what Stephanie needs, whether she knows it or not."

"Meow." Sammy flicked one ear and turned as if startled to gaze up at the rocking chair. "Meow," she said again, sharply.

Nichole laid her work aside, then stood to stretch. "Honestly, I don't know what is up with you and that chair. C'mon, let's go to bed. I'll finish this up tomorrow. I have a feeling she's gonna need it sooner rather than later."

After flicking the TV off with the remote, she reached under the glass dome of the Tiffany floor lamp to turn it off.

She paused for a moment to admire the elegant iris pattern in the glasswork. "I wonder what made my grandmother decide to leave it to me in her will? She never even met me." A feeling of warmth and peace stole over her, like the glow of the lamp's soft light, making her smile. "Mom said she had no idea, when I asked her about it."

"Maybe someday I'll find out, but for now its bedtime." She headed down the hall for bed, and Sammy trotted after her.

In the darkened living room, the rocking chair began to move silently.