“So how’s the weather down in Winter Haven?”
“Sunny. Beautiful. Just like the brochures promised. But I doubt you called me this early in the day just to get a Florida weather report,” Myra replied, a worried note still coloring her tone. “So tell me… what’s up, dear?”
“Well…” Anne hesitated then simply blurted out her news. “I was offered some sewing work yesterday, Myra. Two jobs, actually. I wasn’t hunting for the work or anything. I swear I wasn’t. They just sort of… happened.” She bit the inside of her lip for a moment then continued, “I wanted to call right away to tell you about them. Make sure it was okay with you and everything.”
There was a silence for a moment on the other end of the line. Anne held her breath, worried she’d angered her boss with the news.
“I see,” Myra said at last. “So when do you plan to leave The Stitching Post?”
“Leave?” Anne gulped. “Oh dear, you mean I can’t stay on here if I take these jobs? Oh please let me stay, Myra. I’ll call Mario and Mr. Carmichael right away to tell them I can’t accept—”
“Anne, wait!” Myra interrupted. “You mean you aren’t calling to tell me you’re quitting?”
“Quitting? Me? No, of course not. You’re the best boss ever, and I love my job. I hope I can work here forever. I just wanted to tell you my news and ask for permission to use the store account to order the fabric and supplies I need. I’ll have our suppliers do separate invoices, and I’ll pay you full retail for everything. I promise.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course, you can order whatever you need. I wouldn’t have it any other way, dear. And forget that nonsense about full retail. Use your employee discount.”
“Oh, Myra, you are so kind,” Anne said. “I’ll do the work after hours, and I’ll be glad to pay you a commission on the jobs since –”
Myra chuckled. “Honey, relax. No full retail and no commission. I already owe you more than I can ever repay. If you hadn’t agreed to run The Post for me, Ed and I wouldn’t have been able to take this extended vacation. Feel free to use the shop’s machines to work on your projects. Or better yet, why don’t you take that little portable you like so much over to your apartment? Consider it a bonus for the extra time you’re giving me.”
“Are you kidding?” Anne could hardly believe her ears. First, the two sewing jobs had fallen in her lap, and now, Myra was giving her a sewing machine? Overwhelmed, she choked back the lump in her throat and whispered a heartfelt thank you. They chatted cordially for a few minutes more then said their goodbyes.
After hanging up the phone, Anne leaned back in the desk chair and quietly contemplated her life. She’d turned twenty-six the previous spring, but she’d experienced more ups and downs in her life than most people twice her age. She’d only been in elementary school when her parents had suddenly disappeared on their way to her father’s accounting firm in downtown Detroit. There was speculation about mob involvement when the FBI got involved, but Anne hadn’t known any of the details until years later. At the time, her maternal grandparents had whisked her away to their modest farm in rural Hartland, where they could protect her from the prying media. They’d surrounded her with love and done all they could to fill the void left by her parents’ disappearance. When first Grandpa then Grams had passed away, the emptiness had threatened to swallow her again. Marriage to Jeffrey should have been the happily-ever-after all the fairy tales promised. Instead, it had been the beginning of a horror story, one which resulted in a loss so great she’d feared she’d never overcome it.
But that was all in the past. Now, a new life had opened for her. She had a wonderful job, a generous boss, a cozy home… even friends. Anne blinked back the moisture filling her eyes as she realized how blessed her life had become. She whispered a quick prayer of thanks then picked up the phone to call her favorite supplier, Stephen Langsford.
After exchanging greetings, Anne gave the friendly salesman the shop’s weekly order then told him she had two additional special orders. She explained these needed to be invoiced to the shop but on individual bills for their customers. When he was ready to take the order, she gave him the yardage she needed for the various colors of flag silk as well as the other supplies for the band project. On a separate order, she requested a bolt of the chef-printed fabric and two spools of coordinating yellow thread for Mario’s curtains. Stephen confirmed the style numbers then assured her the orders could ship that same day. After a few more pleasantries, Anne thanked him then hung up the phone and crossed “Place Fabric Orders” off her To Do list.
Brad’s sketch for the flags lay on the desktop with the fabric measurements. She studied it again. His lines were crisp with lettering as precise as a draftsman’s – or an accountant’s. She remembered how her father had prided himself on his meticulously neat printing. Every letter had been precise, every number crisp. He’d teased her about her own chicken scratches. Jeffrey had been far less kind. Anne cringed when she thought of the times he’d forced her to copy and recopy her shopping list before it finally met with his approval. Such a waste of energy for something that would just be tossed once the groceries were bought. Of course, she’d never have dared to voice that opinion.
No, she declared. I will not let my past ruin this wonderful day.
She glanced at the computer, wondering if she should run her usual search. The quilt group had run later than usual the night before. By the time she’d closed the shop and tidied up, she’d been too tired – and too happy – to ruin it with thoughts of her ex. After talking to Myra that morning, Anne felt the same way. Besides, her phone calls had taken a bit longer than she’d expected, so she didn’t have time to sign on and check the OTIS now. What difference would it be if she put off checking on Jeffrey until later in the day? He was safe behind bars and couldn’t hurt her.
Anne hurried to the other room and switched on the overhead lights. Remembering the shock she’d received the previous day, she cautiously raised the front blind. No one was outside peeking in this morning. She started to laugh at herself as she unlocked the door but stopped when she noticed a solitary male figure lurking in the entry of the building across the road. Her heart skipped a beat until a beam of sunlight glinted on the man’s glasses. Anne chuckled. It was the very stranger she’d just been remembering. This time, the man was busy talking on his cell phone.
“That’s two days in row he’s startled me,” Anne announced to the empty shop. “I hope he at least told his wife about our Saturday hours.”
She raised a hand to wave a friendly greeting, but the man apparently didn’t notice. He pocketed his phone then hurried down the sidewalk to the real estate office in the next block.
How odd. I could have sworn he went into the accounting firm yesterday.
Before she could ponder it further, a municipal bus stopped at the curb in front of The Stitching Post, blocking her view. The bus doors whooshed open, and Anne spotted a familiar pair waiting to alight. Jostling each other rather aggressively, the cottony-haired women fought to be first to exit the vehicle. When they finally reached the sidewalk, they turned as one and headed straight to the quilt shop, their heads bowed against the gusting October wind. Anne hurried to open the door for them.
“My goodness it’s cold out there,” the first woman said by way of greeting as she scurried inside and unzipped her hot-pink jacket. “I wonder if we’re going to get some snow before Halloween.”
“Livvie, I told you the weatherman said no,” the second woman answered, coming through the door on her twin’s heels.
“And we know just how reliable that forecast is, Kathryn!”
“He was dead on about the rain storm last week,” her sister protested.
Livvie snorted. “Even a blind pig finds a truffle now and then. I declare, if I had a nickel for every time that man’s predictions have been wrong, I could retire.”
“You are retired, you old fool,” her twin replied, unzipping her matching fleece jacket.
“Livvie, Kathryn! Good morning!” Anne quickly interrupted the sisters before their bickering match escalated and they forgot why they’d come to the shop in the first place. “How can I help you this morning?”
Chapter Eleven
“Which kind of orange juice should we get, Princess?”
Brad held a jug in each hand, showing them to his daughter. Both brands were the same size and almost the same price, so he had no clue which to buy. Who knew grocery shopping could be this complicated? It amazed him that housewives managed the chore each week without going crazy. In fact, some actually enjoyed going shopping.
Jennie studied the containers, her face scrunched in a frown. When she answered, her logic was far beyond her six years.
“Mommy used to get that one, because she liked their commercials.” She indicated the brand with the colorful banner on the label. “Grandma Barb says this one is better, because it costs less.” She gestured to the container in his other hand. Then she shyly pointed at a bottle in the cooler. “But I like that kind the best, Daddy. It’s what Callie’s mom gives me.”
“Problem solved,” Brad announced and put back the jugs he held. He reached for the cheaper store brand Jennie indicated then bowed and presented the bottle to her with a flourish. “Here you go, Princess. Your every wish is my command.”
Jennie flashed one of her rare grins as she set the juice carefully in their cart with the other groceries. Shopping would be a lot more tedious without his little ray of sunshine along.
It had been a while since he’d last had an entire morning to spend with his daughter. Band competitions and practices usually tied up his Saturday mornings. The kids had been invited to several weekend competitions this fall, and he was proud of how well they’d performed. However the invitationals—as well as the halftime shows for the weekly football games—usually meant extra practices after school and on the weekend mornings when they weren’t competing. All the time spent with his band kids took away from the amount of time he could spend with his own child. Brad had been eager for the end of the halftime shows and competitions, so he could remedy that situation. Then he’d received an invitation for the band to march in the Holiday Magic Parade. It was quite a feather in the cap for the band, but Brad knew he’d have to continue practices in order for the kids to learn new music and remain in top form.
His hectic week, however, had driven home the need to make a slight change. The band would have to make do with the after school sessions. This Saturday, he had more urgent things do: shopping, laundry, and Daddy-Jennie time.
Now, he watched as his daughter carefully steered the big cart down the grocery aisles. Jennie seemed to know where to find everything in the Meijer store. Around them, other children ran through the aisles or whined at their harried parents. One youngster even threw a full-blown temper tantrum, flinging himself to the tile floor and screaming at the top of his lungs when he was told he couldn’t have a bag of Halloween candy. Brad cringed, but Jennie merely steered the cart around the shrieking child.
He marveled at her composure. Had she inherited it from his cool and controlled late wife? Or maybe it had come from his equally unflappable mother. Whichever it was, Jennie was quite a remarkable little girl. Brad couldn’t recall a time he’d ever had to reprimand her for misbehaving in public. And she’d certainly never thrown a tantrum anywhere.
“Daddy!” Jennie’s excited whisper pulled him from his reverie. “There’s the lady from the quilt shop.”
Brad glanced in the direction his daughter pointed. Sure enough, Anne stood by a bakery rack, studying the clearanced goods on it. With her slight build and bouncy ponytail, she appeared more like a teenager than a shopkeeper. As he watched, she selected a marked down loaf of bread and put it in her cart. Briefly, she considered a box of pastries, but returned it to the rack with a regretful frown.
Before he could stop his daughter, Jennie pushed their cart toward the rack and called out a cheery greeting.
Anne looked up in surprise. “Well hello, yourself, Jennie. How are you today?”
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”
“Well, I’m enjoying my morning away from work so much, it’s almost like playing hooky,” Anne confided.
“Is your quilt shop closed today?”
“No. The other lady who works there – her name is Courtney — is running things for me, so I can get a few errands done.”
After answering Jennie’s question, she finally turned to face him.
“I’m glad I ran into you this morning, Mr. Carmichael… um… Brad,” she amended when he shook his head. “I ordered the material for your flags on Wednesday, so I should be able to start them as soon as it arrives. Meanwhile, I’ve made a paper pattern, so it won’t take long to run up a sample flag for your approval. I can call you when it’s done, probably the middle of the week. Then, if you need any adjustments, I can do them before cutting out the others. After that, it will take just a few days to finish the rest of them.”
“Wonderful,” Brad declared. “I didn’t expect them so quickly. Just give me a call at the school office — it’s easier to reach me there than at home — and I can stop by to check the sample. I’m sure it will be perfect.”
At an insistent tug on his jacket sleeve, he glanced down to find Jennie frowning up at him.
“Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom. Can the quilt shop lady take me?”
Brad felt his cheeks color. “Umm, Princess, we’d need to ask her if she’d mind.” He turned hopeful eyes toward Anne. “Would you? I mean, I can’t take her in the men’s room with me, and I’m afraid to let her go into the ladies’ restroom in a public place by herself.”
Anne waved away his concern. “I’d be happy to take her, Brad.” She held out a hand to Jennie. “C’mon, sweetie. The restroom is by the entrance.”
“You can leave your cart with mine. I’ll stand here and watch them both,” Brad offered.
She nodded and headed toward the front of the store with his daughter in tow.
After they left, Brad glanced in Anne’s shopping cart. An inexpensive plastic tablecloth, the flimsy kind you found with the party goods, sat to one side. Judging by cart’s other contents — a couple of overly ripe bananas; a head of lettuce on the verge of wilting; the loaf of marked-down bread; and a couple dented cans of soup — Anne had apparently shopped other discount racks in the store, too. He wondered if her job at the store paid so poorly she couldn’t afford fresher product or if she was naturally frugal. Either way, maybe he could treat her to lunch.
Or maybe spending more time with her wasn’t a good idea.
Would Jennie get the wrong idea if she saw her father acting friendly with another woman? Sarah had been gone almost a year now, but he worried his daughter might misunderstand or be confused. He certainly didn’t want to do anything to upset Jennie — she was far too precious to him.
“We’re back,” she announced, skipping up and giving him a bright smile.
It had been quite a long time since his daughter had seemed so happy and carefree. Too long, he amended. He needed to spend more time with her… giggly time not time spent running errands.
“So I see,” he said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Thank you for taking her for me, Anne. Can we buy you a cup of coffee for your kindness?”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Please,” he urged, even as an inner voice screamed, What are you doing? “Jennie and I didn’t have much of a breakfast this morning—”
“We ran out of peanut butter,” Jennie interjected. “And crackers.”
“Yes, we did,” he agreed. “Which is why we had to shop before we did anything else.”
He turned to Anne and shrugged, sheepishly. “It’s also why we planned to have juice and a donut at the bakery. I’d love to have you join us.”
He glanced at Jennie to gauge her reaction to the sudden invitation. Relieved, he saw her nodding in agreement. However, Anne seemed reluctan
t, so he quickly found something sure to tempt her. “I have another sewing project I’d planned to talk to you about, too, Anne. We could do it while we eat.”
****
“What would you like?” Brad asked when they stood in front of the donut case. The heavenly aroma of freshly baked bread perfumed the air, and an enticing display of pastries tempted shoppers to stop for a snack in the small café between Meijer’s bakery and their deli.
“Nothing, thank you. Just coffee for me.”
Brad pointed to a small sign next to the cash register. “They have a great special this morning, but I think you have to buy a coffee and a pastry to get the discount. Right?”
The girl at the counter glanced their way and nodded. “Yes, sir. It’s quite a good deal. Coffee or juice and a donut together are only a dollar. That’s less than the coffee by itself.”
“See? There you have it. You can’t pass up such a good deal. So, please pick out a donut. I’ll just turn your meal in on my expense report.”
“Are you serious?” As she chuckled, a dimple flickered on her right cheek. “You’d turn in a request for a dollar?”
The carefree sound of her laughter made Brad’s heart leap. Tendrils of blond hair had escaped from her ponytail to frame her heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes twinkled with mirth. Suddenly, Brad wanted nothing more than to keep her smiling at him.
“It’s not just a dollar, my dear lady,” he said solemnly. “We mustn’t forget the sales tax. That makes it one hundred and six Lincoln pennies. You wouldn’t want to put one hundred and six presidents out of work, would you?”
“All right, all right, you’ve convinced me. I’ll take a cup of coffee and a sourdough donut. I certainly don’t want to be single-handedly responsible for a spike in Michigan’s unemployment rate.”
****
While Brad placed their orders, Anne and Jenny pushed their carts to one of the tables in the café area. Jennie fetched paper napkins from the service counter and carefully set them at three of the places on the table then she laid a couple more in the middle of the table.
The Friendship Star Quilt Page 8
