The Friendship Star Quilt

by Patricia Kiyono

  Anne glanced that way and saw what had changed the youngster’s mind. On a child-sized manikin hung an adorable, burgundy velvet dress with Juliet sleeves and a sweet satin ribbon at its raised waist. A rack behind the mannequin held dozens of other festive holiday garments. “Princess, I think we’ve found the royal dress.”

  “Do you think they will have my size?” Jennie asked, fearfully.

  “Let’s find out,” her father replied. Taking his daughter’s hand, he started toward the attractive display.

  “Wait, Daddy. We can’t forget Miss Anne,” she said and held out her other hand to Anne. They linked fingers and eagerly went to check the rack.

  The store not only stocked Jennie’s size, it also had matching leather shoes with dainty satin bows on the toes. Jennie nearly bubbled over with excitement as she went into the dressing room. The dress was the perfect length, and the deep burgundy color set off the child’s pale blond curls and big blue eyes. Everything fit as if it had been tailor-made for her, and the style made her look like she’d just stepped from the pages of a fairy tale.

  Her dad apparently thought the same thing. “You are quite beautiful, Princess,” he said when they came out of the fitting room to show him the dress for his approval.

  “Thank you, Daddy. We need to thank Lady Anne for finding it.” She leaned closer to him and confided. “She’s my waiting lady, you know.”

  Amused, he nodded at Anne over his daughter’s head. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure,” she replied then held out a hand. “Come along, Princess Jennie. Let’s get you changed into your own clothes. We’ll be back in few minutes, King Brad, so be prepared to open the royal wallet.”

  “Can I wear my shoes home, Daddy?”

  “Actually, Jennie,” Anne spoke up. “The floors in here are very slippery for a new pair of shoes. It might be a better idea to wait and walk outside the first time you wear them. The rough sidewalk will take away some of the slipperiness on their soles. Then you can walk safely in them without sliding. If it’s okay with your dad, maybe when we go back to the quilt shop, you can put on your new shoes, and we can walk over to Freeze! for some ice cream.”

  Anne suddenly realized she might have overstepped her bounds. “Or your dad can put masking tape on the bottoms. Tape will keep you from slipping, too,” she added as she fearfully glanced at Brad to gauge his reaction.

  He didn’t appear to be angry. In fact, he nodded with enthusiasm. “I think ice cream would be a wonderful way to end our shopping trip. Do you need anything else before we go to ride the carousel, Princess?”

  “Could I maybe get a new winter coat? Mine felt kind of tight when I wore it to church last week. And—” she paused then lowered her voice. “I need some new underwear, too.”

  “Good grief! Of course you do. I should have thought of it myself. If your dress is too small, your other clothes must be, too.” He turned to Anne. “What do you think? Do you think you can find the perfect coat and accessories for our princess, Lady Anne?”

  His use of the title warmed Anne’s heart. How many men would be sweet enough to play along with their daughters’ fantasies that way? She met his gaze and nodded.

  “It would be my pleasure… your majesty.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The decorations at the mall reminded Anne of the fast-approaching holidays. Thanksgiving was the next week, and the store would be busy for the weekend since Myra had authorized a “buy one get one half off” sale on all pre-quilted fabric. The tree skirt and Christmas stocking samples Anne had made for the shop had generated a lot of interest, too. She’d placed orders for extra bolts of the fabric in anticipation of brisk sales since the pre-quilting let a person make beautiful gifts — table runners, tree skirts or Christmas stockings — in a single evening instead of the week or more it might otherwise take.

  The possibilities were endless. Just that afternoon, she’d hit on an idea for a stocking with vintage appeal, using some of the fabric in dusty rose then embellishing it with cream-colored cotton lace, a handful of glass beads, and loops of burgundy and rose satin ribbons. It would be a very feminine stocking but durable enough to give to even the youngest child and know it would last for many years. Anne had been itching to start one to display.

  As soon as she’d locked the door behind the last customer, she’d gathered the supplies she needed, along with a pad and pen to record the materials used so she could share the list with customers. She’d made a paper pattern for a basic stocking body earlier. Now, she fastened the pattern to the rose-colored fabric, using sharp quilt pins.

  Just as Anne started her first cut, a sudden knock sounded on the shop door. Startled, she glanced toward the entrance. A familiar little figure stood on the front step staring in at her. Anne put down her scissors and hurried to let the child inside.

  “Jennie, hello! What brings you here this evening?”

  “Hi, Anne. Daddy and I got a pizza for supper.”

  “How nice,” Ann said, looking down the sidewalk. “Where is your daddy, honey?”

  “He’s over there.” Jennie pointed to a car parked in the lot. Brad stood next to it, talking to another man. “We stopped to get some ice cream, too, but one of the band parents wanted to talk to Daddy. I saw the lights on here and wanted to say hello to you.”

  “That’s very nice of you. But does your dad know you’re here?”

  “Jennie? Where are you?” Brad’s anxious voice rang out in the quiet night, answering her question.

  “I’m right here, Daddy. I made sure I could always see you.”

  “I’m glad you did, Princess. But it gave me a scare when I realized you weren’t with me. How about if you let me know from now on, okay?”

  Anne’s heart warmed to hear the exchange. Brad didn’t sound angry, but his concern at not seeing his daughter was evident. So was his relief at finding her. As much as Anne grieved for the child she’d lost, she knew her baby would never have known the joy of such a loving and protective father. Instead, her little one would have been doomed to Jeffrey’s criticism and sharp tongue. Sad as it was, maybe things had worked out for the best. At least her baby was safe in Heaven.

  Brad jogged over, carrying a bag from the ice cream shop. He slowed as he drew near. “Hi, Anne. I hope the princess wasn’t bothering you.”

  “No, not at all. I was working late to make a Christmas sample for the shop, so I was surprised to see her,” she explained just as her stomach let out a loud rumble. She gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry. I guess I need to think about some dinner.”

  “We went to Falcone’s and got one of Mr. Mario’s pizzas for supper. Half pepperoni for me and half meat lovers for Daddy.”

  “How yummy. Mr. Mario makes the best pizza in town.”

  “Would you care to join us? We have more than enough for the two of us.”

  Brad’s invitation was a surprise, but the expression on his face assured Anne it was genuine.

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” she protested, not wanting to intrude on their time together.

  “Please,” he said, smiling into her eyes the way he had over their zeppole. “I like pizza, but I don’t like leftovers.”

  “Please, Miss Anne,” Jennie pleaded. “Please eat with us. If you like pepperoni, you can have some of mine.”

  Anne hesitated. Pizza did sound good, and the company would be a welcome distraction. “Well, okay. If you’re sure it won’t be an imposition.”

  “Not at all,” Brad assured her. He thrust the ice cream bag toward her. “Can you put this in your freezer? I’ll run out to the car and get the pizza.”

  “Sure. Jennie and I can set the table while you’re gone.”

  Anne led the Jennie to the back of the store where she opened the refrigerator. She took out three bottles of cold water and handed them to the little girl then put away the ice cream. The tub was almost too big for the small freezer, so Anne gave the door an extra nudge to make sure it shut all the way. While Jennie
put the water on the table, Anne got plates, napkins, and plastic cutlery from the potluck supplies. By the time Brad returned with a large pizza box and a paper sack of Mario’s breadsticks, the table was all set.

  “So, Jennie, are you ready for Thanksgiving break?” Anne asked as they settled in to eat.

  The little girl nodded happily. “Yep, Grandma Barb and Pop-Pop are coming. Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Ted are going to be here, too.”

  “You’re making Thanksgiving dinner?” Anne said, glancing at Brad in surprise.

  “No, just hosting it. My mother and aunt are the cooks in the family. I just cut and chop as directed. Tote and carry, too,” he said with a laugh.

  “I wish you could come, too, Miss Anne. Grandma would like you, and Pop-Pop would think you’re pretty.”

  Anne gulped not quite knowing how to respond. Luckily, she didn’t need to worry.

  “May I have another piece of pizza please?” the little girl asked her dad.

  “Certainly. Do you want me to get it out for you?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  What lovely manners, Anne thought, once again impressed by the little girl’s behavior. Someone had certainly raised her well. Jennie always sat up straight, didn’t lean her elbows on the table and used her utensils and napkin properly. Like a little lady. Anne wondered if her little girl might have grown up like Jennie. She brushed aside the thought, determined not to dwell on the past.

  Munching on her slice of meaty pizza, she tried to listen to Jennie’s chatter about the upcoming holiday, but her thoughts were on the handsome man sitting across from her. She could smell the clean scent of his aftershave, and saw the way his chest muscles rippled beneath his t-shirt when he reached for the pizza. With the little girl chatting at her side and Brad across from her, it was easy to fantasize they were a family, sharing a meal and talking about their day.

  Her wrist hurt, but she could endure the pain, would do it again if she had to protect her family. She held her breath as he tried the lasagna. She could tell by his face he didn’t like it. The pasta wasn’t cooked right. The sauce was too bland. She’d put too large of a serving on his plate. Couldn’t she remember a simple thing like how much he ate? She was stupid, too ignorant to follow a simple recipe. Wouldn’t she ever going to learn?

  This slop wasn’t fit to eat. The plate flew against the wall, food splattering everywhere. Marinara sauce dripped down the wall paper to stain the beige carpet, the carpet she’d scrubbed just the day before. Go clean it up. He jerked her up by the arm and pushed her toward the mess. How would he ever be able to invite colleagues to dinner when she could only serve slop? Couldn’t she do anything right, for heaven’s sake? The children cringed in their seats as he continued to berate her, screaming and calling her trailer trash. He voice rose louder and louder. Then he raised his fist.

  Suddenly, she realized everything had grown silent. Glancing around the table, she found her companions staring at her.

  “I-I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?”

  “Is something wrong?” Jennie asked, quietly putting her hand on Anne’s wrist.

  “Wrong? No. Of course not. Why do you ask?”

  “Your face was sad. And you kept rubbing your wrist. Did you hurt yourself, Miss Anne?”

  “I hope you didn’t work too hard making my flags and all those costumes for the girls,” Brad said, leaning across the table toward her.

  “No, no. I’m fine. It’s just an old injury acting up—from my high school days,” Anne improvised.

  “A high school injury? Did you play sports?”

  She grabbed at his opening. “Yes. I played volleyball. And I — I fell.”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie. She had played volleyball in gym class each year, and she’d fallen more than once. But she’d never sustained any serious injuries from any of the falls.

  “You should wrap it when it starts to bother you. Compression will help. Do you have an elastic bandage?”

  “No, but I’m sure I can improvise something until I can go to the store tomorrow.”

  “Daddy! Miss Anne! Look outside!” Jennie sprang from her chair and dashed to the front of the store, pointing out the window.

  Fluffy white flakes drifted downward, swirling in the glow of the parking lot lights. It was the first snowfall of the season and, from the size of the flakes, it might stick to the ground tonight.

  Jennie ran to the door for a better view. She turned back to her father with a pleading expression. “Can I go outside, Daddy? Just for a minute? I’ll stay right on the sidewalk. Please?”

  Brad laughed and picked up Jennie’s jacket, carrying it to the front of the store. “Of course you can, Princess. There’s magic in the first snow of the winter.”

  Anne followed, intending to watch through the window, but Jennie grabbed her hand and pulled her outside, too.

  “Come on, Miss Anne. You gotta catch the snowflakes on your tongue before they fall to the ground. Look up at the sky and open your mouth really wide. Like this!”

  The eager young girl tilted her head back to demonstrate, her blond curls tumbling down her back. Anne’s arms ached to scoop up the precious girl, to dance with her in the falling snow while they caught flakes on their tongues.

  Instead, she stood on the sidewalk, laughing as Jennie twirled round in circles, and Brad tried, unsuccessfully, to get the little girl into her jacket.

  ****

  Across the street, the falling snow obscured the lone figure who stood watching the happy scene in front of The Stitching Post. Ignoring the fat flakes that splattered against the lenses of his wire-framed glasses, he pulled a cell phone from his overcoat pocket. He pressed a button for speed dial then waited until the line was picked up.

  “It’s me. Kyle,” he barked into the phone. “Remember the case you told me about a while back…”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Here we are,” Brad announced as he pulled up to the short term parking ramp and took a ticket from the dispenser. When the gate opened, he found a place to park in the busy lot then led Jennie inside the Gerald R. Ford Airport terminal.

  The airport had recently been expanded and remodeled, but it still consisted of only two concourses. The security checkpoints for both were accessed through a central waiting area with comfortable seating and large viewing windows. Holding Jennie’s hand as he always did in crowds, Brad made his way to the lounge to wait for his aunt’s plane. Thanksgiving was two days away, so the place was busier than usual. Some of the people appeared to be travelers, passing time in the gift shop and café before they’d head through security to the gates beyond. Others were like Brad and Jennie, waiting to greet arriving friends or family members.

  Aunt Bonnie had called the night before to say she’d just realized the court calendar would be clear after Monday’s morning sessions, but Uncle Ted couldn’t get away until later in the week. “So, I’m thinking of flying to Grand Rapids tomorrow afternoon if it will be okay with you. It will give me a few extra days to visit with my favorite nephew and great-niece.”

  “I’m your only nephew, Aunt Bonnie.”

  She chuckled. “Picky, picky. Are you sure you aren’t an attorney?”

  “Positive. And we’d love to have you come early.”

  “Wonderful. I wanted to check what time you get finished at school, so I can book a flight about then. I’d drive, but it seems silly to have two cars there since your uncle will drive up on Wednesday.”

  Jennie had been delighted when he told her. His daughter loved spending time with his godmother as much as he did.

  Now, he checked her flight number on the arrivals monitor and saw the plane had apparently left Detroit a little late. It wouldn’t land in Grand Rapids for another thirty minutes.

  “It’s going to be a little while until Aunt Bonnie get here, honey. Would you like something to drink while we wait?”

  “Can I have a hot cocoa, please? I like the kind they make at the coffee shop.”

&n
bsp; The café, operated by one of the national coffee franchises, was more expensive than a beverage from one of the vending machine would be, but would taste much better. Besides, the café also served wonderful biscotti, which was the deciding factor for Brad.

  “Sounds good to me. I like their coffee.”

  Hand in hand, they made their way to the café line. When it was his turn, Brad placed their orders. Jennie watched with bright-eyed intensity as a young barista quickly made the beverages.

  “Would you like extra whipped cream on your cocoa, miss?” the clerk asked.

  Jennie tugged his hand before answering. “Can I, Daddy?” she asked. Receiving his permission, she turned back to the clerk. “Yes, thank you.”

  When their order was ready, Brad picked up the tray and carried it to an empty table in the café. Jennie opened a napkin and tucked it into the collar of her shirt as he put her drink and biscotti in front of her. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied and sat down across from her. He took a sip of his blond roast blend then sighed with contentment. The brew was perfect. Well worth the extra buck or so.

  Jennie took a nibble of her cookie then a dainty sip of her cocoa. “Will we have time to watch the planes when we’re through with our snacks, Daddy?”

  “Sure. We should be able to see the runway from the windows in the waiting area. Maybe we’ll see Aunt Bonnie’s plane land.”

  “That would be fun. I love Aunt Bonnie. She’s almost as much fun as Miss Anne. It was fun catching snowflakes with her.”

  “It was fun, wasn’t it?” He agreed, remembering Anne’s musical laugh and how beautiful she’d been with the snow sparkling like gems in her hair.

  “Are you going to marry Miss Anne?”

  “What?” Brad startled. “Marry? Oh, no, sweetheart. Anne and I are — um — just friends.”

  “But you smile all the time when you see her.”