Tattered & Torn

by Carol Dean Jones

  “He did mention having problems with Penny’s dog.”

  “Blossom? What kind of problems?”

  “It seems Penny lets her get away with murder. Andy thinks the dog needs to be sent off to boot camp for some training.”

  “That’s not the way it works,” Sarah replied with a chuckle. “Timothy, Penny, and Blossom all three will need to be trained.”

  “So are you worried about Martha?” Charles asked his wife who didn’t seem to be concerned that they were away.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “They probably just needed some alone time. They’ve had a rough time with their relationship this year.”

  Timothy, while visiting from Alaska had met Sarah’s daughter Martha at Sarah and Charles’ wedding a couple of years back. Their mothers, Sarah and Sophie, immediately saw the sparks fly and for several months, they excitedly speculated that their two families might well become joined. But just as Timothy was preparing to retire and return to Middletown permanently, he learned that he had a fourteen-year-old daughter. The child’s mother was dying and asked him to take her.

  He returned to Middletown with a daughter and all the problems of adjusting to his new lifestyle: retirement, a new home, a teenage daughter, a girlfriend, and a small Papillion. Unfortunately, his relationship with Martha took a backseat, and their mothers began to think there was little hope it would survive. For one thing, Martha wasn’t even sure she wanted to become a mother.

  “In fact,” Sarah continued, “this might be a good sign. Now that Tim’s life is more settled, and Martha has had time to get to know Penny, perhaps they can get their own relationship back on track. It could be difficult, though,” she added thoughtfully. “There are sometimes bad feelings when a new relationship gets sidetracked.”

  “Let’s not look for trouble,” her sensible husband responded. “They'll be back in a few days, and I’m sure Martha will let us know what’s going on.”

  “Maybe,” Sarah replied. “She’s always so secretive.”

  “She’s a very private person, sweetheart. That’s just who she is.”

  Sarah sighed and headed for her sewing room, thinking that she just might make a few small repairs to the quilt. She cleared off her worktable and spread it out so that she could examine it, block by block. But she quickly changed her mind about making any repairs, not wanting to disturb the quilt in any way until she knew more about it.

  She stood back and studied the quilt again. Something had been niggling at her since she first saw the quilt. Maybe this quilt should go off to a museum where curators can restore or conserve it, she thought. “This could be an important piece of history,” she said aloud.

  “What did you say, hon?” Charles had been passing by the sewing room and caught her talking to herself. She decided to see what he thought.

  “Come on in and take another look at this quilt. I want to ask you something.”

  As it turned out, Charles agreed that if the quilt turned out to be from the Civil War period, perhaps it should be shared with the world. “Will you be fixing it up first?”

  “No, in that case, I wouldn’t make any changes to it. The museum curator might restore it or perhaps just conserve it in its current condition. That would be their decision, but until I decide, I won’t do any repairs. This will require some thinking. If it's really from the 1800s, it could be a significant piece, deserving to be preserved. And if not, it’s still a precious thing to own, and in that case, I’d begin repairing it the best I can.”

  “It may actually be a piece of our history,” Charles responded. “If it does end up in a museum, it would be good to have a plaque with it that explains who made it, when, and even why, but I guess no one knows any of that.”

  “You’re right,” Sarah replied. “No one knows any of that. But, perhaps someone should find out.” She looked at her husband, himself a retired detective, tilted her head to the side and batted her eyelashes with exaggeration. “Don’t you agree, dear?”

  Charles laughed and shook his head in mock exasperation. “Here we go again -- detecting,” he said. “But at least it doesn’t involve murder this time.”

  Or so he hoped.

  Chapter 3

  “So have you started the repairs on your quilt?” Sophie asked. She and Sarah were sitting in her backyard sipping lemonade and watching the shenanigans of their two dogs, Emma and Barney. Emma, much younger than Barney, was attempting everything she knew about getting another dog to play, but Barney simply stretched out in the sun and pretended to be napping. She finally gave up and stretched out next to him.

  “No, I’ve decided to hold off on repairs. I don’t want to do anything to it until I decide whether I’m keeping it.”

  “What? You love that old thing,” Sophie responded, looking perplexed. “Why wouldn’t you keep it?”

  Sarah told her about her concerns and the possibility of donating it to a quilt museum if it was, in fact, as old as they suspected. “But first, I want to learn more about it.”

  “That’s where I come in!” Sophie exploded with delight. “I’ve already had some ideas…”

  “Hold on, Sophie. Before we get into that, I want to ask you something. Do you know where Martha and your son have gone?”

  “Gone? Nowhere that I know of. Why do you ask?”

  “Have you spoken to him lately?”

  Sophie thought a minute and responded, “It was four or five days ago, but why do you ask?”

  “Charles learned from Andy that he and Caitlyn are taking care of Penny and Blossom for a few days.”

  “What? Why didn’t he leave her with me?” Sophie demanded. “I’m insulted! Where are they anyway? I’m going to call Timothy right now.” With a look somewhere between anger and worry – a look only a mother can produce – she pulled her phone out of her pocket and hit the button to call her son. “It’s gone right to voice mail,” she exclaimed. “He has it turned off. This is really annoying.” The frown grew deeper. “I’m going to call Andy and find out what’s going on.” She started to dial, but Sarah laid her hand over the phone.

  “Sophie, hold on. Don’t forget your son and my daughter are adults and they actually can go away for the weekend without accounting to us. Besides, I already spoke to Andy, and they didn’t tell him where they were going, just that they’d be gone three days.”

  “What did they tell Penny?” Sophie asked.

  “All Penny knows is that she was lucky enough to have a three-day sleepover with her best friend. Andy said that Penny was offered her choice and, like any teenager, she chose the place that would be the most fun.”

  “Humph.” Sophie slid the phone back into her pocket and sighed. “I’ve been pushed entirely out of the loop.”

  “Now Sophie, it’s nothing personal, but I’m a little curious myself. You don’t suppose…” Sarah hesitated to finish the sentence, but it was too late, and Sophie caught on right away.

  “Eloped? You think they eloped?” Sophie didn’t wait for an answer but began huffing and muttering incoherently.

  “I don’t think so, but I suppose it’s possible,” Sarah responded. “Maybe they just didn’t want a big fuss…”

  “If that boy thinks he can do me out of this wedding, he’s very much mistaken. Just wait ‘til those two get back. I’ll throw them the fanciest wedding party this town has ever seen. I’ll rent the…”

  “Sophie, stop. Calm down.” Sophie was now pacing back and forth completely forgetting her arthritis and practically tripping over Emma, who had become almost as agitated as Sophie.

  “I’ll fix those two. I’m calling the Beaumont right now and reserving their largest ballroom…”

  Sarah interrupted her again, this time getting up and physically stopping her from pacing. “Sophie, we don’t know that they’ve eloped. They probably are just taking a little time to themselves. That’s what Charles thinks, and I agree. They haven’t had any time just for the two of them for the past year. Now come sit down with me and l
et’s talk rationally.”

  “Humph,” Sophie sputtered, but she returned to her chair, and Emma relaxed in the grass at her feet.

  “Why didn’t they tell me,” Sophie muttered, not expecting an answer. “Just imagine how upset they’d be if they discovered we’d vanished from the face of the earth…”

  “Sophie, they haven’t exactly vanished. They made arrangements for Penny, so this was something planned. We’ll just have to wait until they get back.”

  “Wait until they get back married, you mean.”

  “Sophie…”

  “Just think about it, Sarah. Why else would they suddenly take off like this and not tell anyone? It’s exactly what I did, and…”

  “Exactly what you did?” Sarah asked, looking at her friend with astonishment. “You eloped?”

  “Okay, I did, but that doesn’t make it right. My parents acted as if they were angry, but now I know how they felt.”

  “Hurt?”

  “Yeah,” she responded, dropping her eyes and reaching down to scratch Emma’s head. “Hurt.”

  “Since we don’t know for sure that’s what they did, could we just put this aside until they return? I was hoping we could talk about how we’ll find out about the past life of my quilt.”

  Sophie sat quietly and appeared reluctant to let go of her mood, but finally Sarah could see the beginnings of her old twinkle. “I agree. I’d much rather talk about that, and I’ve had some thoughts about where to begin.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Okay,” Sophie began with renewed enthusiasm. “You said some workman found the quilt in an attic. Let’s find that man and get details. Once we know which attic, we might be able to find out who lived there last.”

  “Exactly,” Sarah responded, delighted to see how quickly Sophie could set aside her concerns when there was the possibility of solving a mystery, big or small. “Let’s go to the thrift shop and talk to Florence. I’m sure she keeps records and can tell us who brought the quilt in. We can start there.”

  “Today?” Sophie asked enthusiastically.

  “Sure, if you want.” Sarah hadn’t planned to go today, but it would be the perfect way to distract her friend. “I’ll go home and get some lunch, and we’ll leave around one. How’s that?” Sarah suggested as she stood and headed for the kitchen door.

  “I don’t like it.”

  Sarah, startled by her friend’s response, looked back at her and asked, “Why not?”

  “Because I think we should eat out.”

  Sarah laughed and agreed. “Grab your purse and let’s go right now. I’ll call Charles and tell him he’s on his own for lunch.” Heading toward the car, both women were excitedly chattering about their plans. Elopement worries had been moved to a back shelf.

  * * *

  When Sarah returned, she found Charles sitting at his computer wearing his oldest sweatshirt and ragged jeans. She noticed that his shoes were covered with damp matted grass, and she spotted more under the computer table.

  “You mowed I see.”

  “Oops. Sorry. I meant to clean up before I came in here, but I had this idea about your quilt and wanted to get on the computer and check it out.”

  “Really? What idea?”

  “I was wondering if I could pull up pictures of quilts made during the 1800s and maybe I could find it.”

  Sarah chuckled. “Oh that it could be that simple. Actually, I’d be surprised if anyone took the time to take a picture of this one and load it onto the internet, not to mention you’ll find millions of quilt images.”

  “I’ve discovered that. How about you? Any luck?”

  “It was just a first step. We went to the thrift shop and got the name and address of the woman who sold the quilt to Florence. I just need to find her phone number and arrange to go see her and her husband.”

  “Ah,” Charles responded. “That gives me a more reasonable computer task.” He hit a few keys and read the number to Sarah. “And, if you’re interested, she’s forty-eight years old and has three associates living at her address.”

  “There are no secrets anymore,” Sarah muttered as she headed for her sewing room.

  Charles followed her in and asked to see the quilt again.

  “Not until you get cleaned up,” she responded, looking at the trail of damp grass he had left behind.

  A short time later, Charles appeared at the door to the sewing room freshly showered. “How’s this?” he said indicating his clean jeans and tee shirt. “And I wiped up all the grass.”

  “I was just going to spread out the quilt,” she responded with an appreciative smile. “Sophie wants a picture of it, and I was hoping you’d snap it and send it over to her smartphone.”

  “Sure will,” he replied, pulling out his own phone. “I’m surprised she ever agreed to that purchase. It’s so unlike your friend.” Sophie’s son had overruled his mother’s firm conviction to never own a computer or a mobile phone. He bought her a smartphone and insisted that she work with him until she knew the basics. As it turned out, she loved trolling the internet and even joined a social network. Timothy ended up buying her an unlimited data plan and told her to have fun.

  “What’s she want the picture for?” Charles asked as he took shots from several angles.

  “Sophie sets up what she calls her Detecting File. We stopped in town so she could buy another pack of 3x5 cards.”

  “What does she do with the cards?”

  “She writes down all the clues we find and then she shuffles them around, sorts them into piles, and pins them on her corkboard looking for the solution.”

  “Cute,” he responded with a touch of sarcasm.

  “Okay, Detective Parker. That sounded just a bit condescending. She enjoys it, and she learned it from some female detective novels she reads.”

  “And does this ever work for your friend?”

  “It keeps her busy,” Sarah responded, as she carefully folded the quilt, returned it to the cabinet, and pulled out her latest project.

  Once the picture was on its way to Sophie, Charles sat down on the futon and watched Sarah as she organized the blocks she’d been working on for a quilt she was making for his grandson in Colorado.

  “Do you really think Jimmy will like this?” she asked.

  Charles had gone with her to choose the fabric, and they had decided on a mixed sports theme. Using material which featured baseball, soccer, and football, Sarah had fussy-cut scenes which she thought Jimmy would like, particularly boys actively playing the sports and the equipment they used. She separated these blocks with a bright multicolored sashing and added colorful stars as cornerstones.

  “I think any ten-year-old boy would be crazy about it,” he responded, “and if I know my grandson he will never outgrow it. He loves sports, unlike his dad -- and his granddad for that matter.”

  Looking serious, Sarah turned to him and said, “I talked to Sophie about Tim and Martha. She had no idea they were gone.”

  “Was she upset?”

  “She was off the wall. She’s sure they’ve eloped.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Charles responded. “They wouldn’t do that to Penny, at least I hope they wouldn’t. She’s had enough surprises this year.”

  “Yet, it is a possibility, you know.”

  “I thought about it briefly, but I believe that they're both too sensible for that. They would want to get Penny used to the idea. In fact, I think Penny should be a part of any ceremony they would have, assuming marriage is even in their future. You know, they haven’t spent much time together this past year.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, Charles. We really don’t know what they do.”

  “Point taken.”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see,” she added.

  Charles stretched out on the futon and fell asleep while Sarah cut out Jimmy’s quilt. An hour or so later she saw him beginning to stir. “I’m going to put Jimmy’s quilt aside and start some dinner. How about Italian tonight? I could ma
ke lasagna?”

  “I love the idea of Italian, but let’s head over to Campanili’s. We haven’t been there for ages, and I’d hate to waste this shower,” he chuckled.

  “Two restaurant meals in one day -- I love it,” she responded. “I’ll call for reservations, and I think I’ll take a bubble bath and dress up for the occasion.”

  “Does that mean I have to wear a tie?”

  She kissed his cheek and left the room.

  “I guess that means yes.”

  Chapter 4

  “Thank you for seeing us,” Sarah was saying as Claudia Simpson led them into the small but comfortable living room.

  “This is my husband, Thomas.” Mr. Simpson glanced up, nodded, and returned to his newspaper.

  Sarah had called the Simpsons and asked if she and Sophie could meet with them to ask some questions about the quilt. Claudia had said they knew very little but would be happy to have them come by in the evening when Tom got home. “He’s the one that found it,” she had said.

  “Why are you so interested in that quilt?” Claudia asked once they were settled.

  Sarah explained her interest in finding out its history and talked a little about Civil War quilts in particular. Thomas put his newspaper aside and began to look interested in the conversation. “Probably valuable,” he ultimately interjected. “Maybe we should have hung onto it, Claudia.”

  Sarah wondered if she should offer to give it back to him, but Sophie saved the day by quickly speaking up. “Oh, that old rag isn’t worth anything except perhaps for its sentimental value. I doubt that you got anything for it from the shop.”

  “We did, as a matter of fact,” Claudia said. “The lady gave me $20.”

  “Fantastic, Mrs. Simpson. You’re a sharp negotiator,” Sophie responded, noticing that Thomas Simpson had settled back behind his newspaper.”