The Christmas Quilts

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The Christmas Quilts Page 8

by Olivia Gaines


  “No.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t think that went well,” Bisa said.

  “Overall, it did. You are still here and didn’t run out of the house,” Cody said, taking her into the foyer which had become Nana’s sewing room.

  “I don’t know what to make of all this, Cody. Your family thinks we are dating,” she said in a whisper.

  “Something which you confirmed. I say we allow our relationship to continue to bloom,” he added with a smirk.

  “This is nuts. I have only known you for three weeks! Here I am meeting your family,” she said, pulling at his shirt sleeve.

  Cody turned, placing his hands on her waist. The blue eyes gazed at her face. A slow, sensual smile formed in his lips. He was proud of how she had handled herself with his family. They were a tough group. Any woman who could hold her own in a room with them was a winner in his book.

  “Bisa, I wanted to get this part out of the way. Was it fair to you? No. But, it was safer to get it done up front, so in six months, you wouldn’t have cold feet, fearing my family would not accept you,” he said, squeezing her at the waist. “I don’t know what this is between us but I am drawn to you like a hooker to naval base. We don’t have to rush anything.”

  “I’m drawn to you as well, not like a hooker or anything, but there is obviously something here,” she said.

  He lowered his head, kissing her deeply. His tongue probed her mouth as she clung to him, breathy, wanting more. Her pulse raced, the heart behind her breast plate pounding, and sweat beads formed on her brow as her body temp rose while she kissed him back as if he were about to head for war. A clearing of a throat could be heard in the background.

  “Give us one moment, please,” Cody said as he held her close to him, the feel of her body against his giving away his tell-tale desire to make her his own. He whispered in her ear, “We will take our time to make sure this is right for us, but I won’t lie, I want you so much it hurts.”

  The throat cleared again.

  “Is it safe to come in,” Lily Rose called.

  “Of course,” Bisa said, putting her back to Cody’s front, his hands resting on her shoulders.

  “Did you show her my quilts?” Lily Rose asked

  “Not yet, I want to take her to the second floor first,” Cody said.

  “Make it quick,” Lily Rose said. “Cassidy, Cassidy, get in here.”

  While Cassidy struggled to get the containers out, Cody led Bisa to the rotunda and up the stairs. Four bedrooms were available with a bathroom at the end of the hallway. A master suite sat in the rear of the home with its own bath as well.

  “This is my room,” he said.

  Bisa stepped into the spacious room with her eyes focused on the large king-sized bed. The room wasn’t masculine, but neutral in colors, showing only two paintings on the wall.

  “That is a really big bed,” Bisa said.

  “Yeah, in my head, I can see my wife and kids on Friday night, huddled up watching a sappy Disney movie,” he said. “Or coming home from work to see my wife propped against the headboard, nursing my son.” His fingers grazed her arm, making the hairs prickle in the gooseflesh.

  “Do I have an impregnate me sign on my head?”

  “No, no,” he laughed. “When I look at you I see the tangible.”

  “Three weeks, Cody. It has only been three weeks,” she said.

  “My Pop-Pop knew the first time he saw Nana. My dad knew the second my Mom smiled at him,” he said, touching his fingers to hers.

  “And when did you know or decide I am it for you?”

  “That day at the museum when you stood behind me and whispered in my ear. A warm feeling shot all the way to my toes and the thought of your voice, softly speaking to me before I close my eyes and when I open them...,” he stopped speaking.

  “Go on...,”

  “It was tangible,” he said, extending his hand. “Let’s go look at those quilts.”

  Chapter Eleven – Quilt Tops

  Bisa was astounded at the amount of work Lily Rose had done by hand and with a sewing machine operated by a foot pedal. The detail of the stitching floored her as well as the intricate patterns and designs.

  “I am amazed you did all of this by hand,” Bisa said complimenting the matriarch.

  “All of these came from the clothing of my children from their first years of life. I saved every onesie, tee shirt, pair of shorts, and everything else to make all of them their own quilts,” she said.

  “Is there one in there for me?” Cassidy asked.

  “There is one in here for everyone, and I am working on Gideon’s now,” she said, turning to Bisa. “When I finish Gideon’s, the last one I will make next year will be for your child with Cody. I can’t wait until it is born, so I am going to use the bag of scraps which represents a piece of each life in this family.”

  “Mrs. Richardson,” Bisa said taking her hands. “Please don’t talk this way.”

  “Darling, next December I will be 90. My eyes are going, my fingers are arthritic, and my body spontaneously makes noises when I move. I have lived a good life. These are my last gifts to my family. I want to leave them with a comforting piece of me,” she said.

  “We will make this happen for you,” Bisa said.

  “Thank you,” Lily Rose added, her old blue eyes tearing up.

  “I have to get going, but I thank you for sharing these with me and having me in your home for dinner,” Bisa said.

  “This is now your home as well. Come back often, just not on Sundays. Different members of my family are here on Sunday evenings and they are nuts,” Lily Rose said with a blush to her cheeks.

  “I’m scared to come back out of fear of somebody impregnating me,” Bisa said.

  Lily Rose’s laughter rang through the house. Bisa kissed her on the cheek, saying farewell to the family. Cody reluctantly walked her to the car, wishing she could stay longer.

  “When do I meet your family?” he asked.

  “No time soon,” she said with a wink. “Gotta run. I have an early morning.”

  “No kiss goodnight?”

  “Hell no. If you keep kissing me like you did in that back room, I will end up pregnant for sure, Cody Richardson,” she said, closing the door and tooting her horn as she pulled away from the curb.

  His family stood in the front window, waving goodbye as they watched Bisa’s car roll away. Cody’s legs felt heavy as he climbed the stairs to return to the house where he expected to be pelted with questions. Instead, he opened the door to applause.

  “We love her,” his father said, bringing a wide grin to Cody’s face as he received pats on the back from his brothers and Ti and a hug from his sister. Most of all, a look of relief sat on his Nana’s face, signaling an end to an era. He knew the look. The same look he’d seen on his Pop-Pops face before her started to last descent into the final year of his life.

  She was nearly ready to let go of this life, knowing he would be in good hands with Bisa.

  THE FUN SUNDAY EVENING was the highlight of her week as everything turned to a big pile of poo as the days passed. The quilting process had begun for her classes and all fared well on the business end, but for her life and trip to Kentucky, the threads begin to unravel, starting with her car. It needed a part which would not come in until next week. Even if the part came in, the car could not hold everything she needed to take with her.

  Antoine had a coupe and that wouldn’t work, but she called him anyway to tell him the news about her car. He started the conversation by sputtering, then stuttering followed by a lame excuse.

  “Ah, yeah, ah Bisa...about that,” he began. “I have a coupe and you have a lot of well, boxes and gear. Oh hey! Did I tell you my Mama fell down the stairs yesterday, twisting her ankle, and you know how my Dad is when she is not feeling well. Uh, I, uh kind of, you know...The two of them are like children. I would hate to leave them, you know, all alone...and stuff. Yeah, tough news on your car.”

 
“I was thinking maybe of renting one, but I’m worried with the distance, and everything I had to buy, that my card is maxed out,” she said, attempting to at least give him an opportunity to try and be her hero.

  “Shoot! So is mine,” Antoine told her. “I would have rented it for you, but my little sister, you know she is pledging that sorority and I have been helping her with the dues and fees.”

  It wasn’t an excuse. It was a lie. A bald-faced lie to get out of going with her. She couldn’t cancel.

  “I will just get my Mom to rent a car, I guess” she said.

  “Maybe she will be able to go with you as well,” Antoine suggested.

  “Thanks anyway,” she said to him, clicking off the line.

  By the end of the evening, her nerves were frazzled, she was frustrated with Antoine, and teetering on the brink of tears. Cody noticed it immediately.

  “Bisa, what’s wrong?” Cody asked.

  It was unlike her to cry.

  She hardly ever cried.

  “Everything,” she said, allowing the tears to roll down her face.

  “My car is in the shop and the fee they want to charge me to rent an SUV is ridiculous! Antoine cancelled on me and I need to leave in the morning for Kentucky. This trip is my bread and butter. I am a panelist on Friday morning and the Saturday event features my work. The sales I make will sustain me for a year and all of my dreams are going out the window in one fell swoop,” she said reaching for a tissue.

  “I’ll go with you and we can take my vehicle,” he told her.

  “Don’t tease me, Cody. I am already freaking out over here,” Bisa said.

  “I will go home, pack a bag, and pick you up in the morning. When do we come back, Sunday night?”

  “No, Monday. It is an 8 hour drive,” she said.

  “Okay, let me put in a call to my boss and let him know I will be off Thursday, Friday and Monday,” he said.

  “You are serious, aren’t you?”

  “This is important to you, correct?”

  “Yes, this is everything I have worked for since I wanted to open this shop,” she told him.

  “Let’s make a deal. You pay for the gas and hotel and we spilt the cost of meals,” he said.

  “No, I will pay for gas, the hotel, and meals since I was going to pay for the first two anyway,” she said.

  “Sounds good. What time do you want to roll out?”

  “Six a.m. would be perfect,” she said.

  He looked at his watch. “Let me get moving so I can be back here, ready to go by six,” he said.

  Bisa grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him to her. “If you are trying to make me fall in love with you, Cody, you are doing a damned good job.”

  “I sure hope so,” he said, kissing her lightly and pulling away. “Lock up and be safe.”

  CODY ARRIVED AT SIX a.m. with the rear seats of his SUV let down, the tank full of gas, and two protein-packed power smoothies. Just in case, he brought two bananas, a couple of apples and oranges, and pre-popped organic popcorn for snacks. Bisa was pacing at the front window when he arrived.

  “Ready to load up?” he asked as he opened the side door. Her hands were shaking from the rattled nerves. “Calm down, Sweetheart, I’m here.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up,” she said. “I mean, you took three days off from work for me. That is a lot of pressure.”

  “No pressure at all. I looked at the Paducah site last night and I can buy batting in bulk and a quilting machine, and did you know they sell binding pre-made? I can just buy rolls of it for these quilts and cut my production time in half,” he said with a smile.

  Bisa threw herself into his arms, sobbing softly on his shoulder. Gently rubbing her back, he spoke softly in her ear. “I got you my beautiful quilting bee, but if you don’t let me go, we are never going to make it down the road,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  “Okay, okay. Thank you so much, Cody.”

  “Enough mushy stuff. I have snacks, a liquid breakfast, and satellite radio. I even brought an extra pillow if you need to nap while I drive,” he said. His eyes turned toward her haul. “What is all of that?”

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars if can unload it all in the next few days,” she said.

  “Alrighty then,” he said, starting with the larger boxes, loading it all in and ending with her luggage. “In you go, Bisa.”

  He didn’t calculate the number of items she would bring, which would screw up his estimation of fuel on the mileage. It didn’t matter. He had on his cape and this weekend he would be her hero.

  By the time Monday rolled around, Bisa had become his and beyond the shadow of all his doubts, he knew he loved her.

  Chapter Twelve – Ironing It Out

  She was exhausted, emotionally spent and just plain tuckered out from all the work she’d put in planning for this event. The first three hours of the trip she lay immobile, hugging the pillow snoozing as Cody’s SUV clicked down the miles. They both had forgotten to factor in the time change which made the trip a nine hour drive instead of eight. Bisa slept for at least, four waking as they crossed into Tennessee entering Chattanooga.

  “Do you want me to drive the rest of the way?” she asked.

  “No, we are good. I am listening to a really great book by Jo Nesbo called The Bat,” he said, pulling into a gas station.

  “I’ve read that one a while ago. I’m trying to read The Snowman now, you know before the movie comes out and ruins it,” she said.

  “On the way back, we will listen to The Snowman and you can treat me to the movie when it comes out. We can have dinner afterwards and discuss the differences between the book and movie, making snide references to cinematic liberties taken by the movie director,” he said, smiling.

  “That actually sounds like fun, Cody.”

  “Good. It’s a date, but first, bladder, gas, and couple of bottles of water. I had to take out my small cooler just to get in my overnight bag,” he said, looking at all the stuff in the back of the car.

  They both hurried inside to relieve themselves, eyeing the rows of candy and sweet treats. She shook her head no to him, and he grabbed a candy bar, beating on his chest gorilla style.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I am a man and I eat what I want,” he said with his eyes wide.

  “Even if it’s not good for you?”

  “Pre-marital sex isn’t good for you either, but people have it all the time, Bisa. A man takes pleasure in only a few things in his life, and a good woman and good food are at the top of the lists. His job is what he does to pay the bills and support his family. If he is lucky, he will love what he does, but nine times out of ten, he goes to work silently wishing he were dead. At mealtime a man should get to eat what he wants and enjoy it without someone looking over the table at him judging his life choices,” Cody said.

  “Duly noted. Eat your chocolatey coated bar of sugary nuts,” she said.

  “And you, grab yourself a cup of your poop making tea, gnaw on a piece of bark, then go back to sleep,” he snapped at her.

  “Snappish, aren’t we?”

  “It’s silly. After everything you still want to be pious because I’m having a candy bar. I like candy bars. I deserve this candy bar,” he said, ripping open the package. He took a big bite as he fueled up the car.

  Bisa open the door of Cody’s vehicle and sat in the front seat, barely able to peer out of the window at him because of all of her items overtaking the rear of the SUV. He was right. Every relationship she had ended mainly because she wouldn’t give in when it came to their eating habits. He was absolutely correct to stand his ground on his food selections. Her dietary choices were her own and she no right to fob them off on anyone else. However, she also didn’t deserve to be saddled with a life partner riddled with health issues because he ate like a 16 year old. She fumed for a few minutes as Cody finished fueling and slid into the driver’s side. Bisa leaned over, puckering up
her lips for kiss.

  “No! You are just trying to kiss me so you can taste the chocolate in my mouth. You aren’t fooling me, you have chocolate envy. Get back over there and chomp on your twig,” he said, chuckling.

  “Fine, I’m going to remember that later this evening when you are trying to kiss me goodnight,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him.

  “Oh, you are going to kiss me goodnight, Quilting Bee, and you will make the first move,” he said, matching her eyebrow raise.

  “We shall see,” she said.

  The story continued playing through the speakers in the vehicle as they both listened to the narrator take them through the first installment of the Harry Hole series, arriving in Paducah a little after 3:30 to check into the hotel.

  “We have your suite ready, Ms. Washington. Will you need a hand with your luggage?” the hotel clerk asked.

  “I would appreciate it. There is a lot,” she said.

  A young woman in a patchwork skirt stood in line behind them, waiting impatiently as if she had to tinkle. Cody kept his eye on her as Bisa requested a second room key. The woman got antsier as Bisa completed the check-in, and once Bisa turned around the girl screamed.

  Bisa jumped and Cody went on the defensive.

  “O! M! GEEEEE- GEEEE-GEEEE!” the girl screamed. “It’s you! It’s the Quilting Bee!”

  Six more women ran over to shake Bisa’s hand, snap selfies, or just to be close to the woman he was really starting to like as well as respect. Cody didn’t know what to make of any of it until one of the enthusiastic women started to rant.

  “I follow you on Instagram, I listen to your podcast, and I subscribe to your YouTube channel. I actually made the Sandals in the Sand quilt for my niece, and it is the cutest thing ever. Please tell me you brought some precuts in those fabrics of yours,” she said.

  “I did, along with a few others,” she said.

  “The Quilting Bee is on a panel in the morning as well and I will be there,” another young lady said.

  A woman, who turned out to be a well-dressed man in a skirt with a Sun Bonnet Sue pattern, asked about Bisa’s books. Another wanted to know if she’d brought quilts to sell.

 

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