The Friendship Star Quilt

by Patricia Kiyono

  Anne hated lying to him — hated lying to anyone — the strain of living a secret life wore at a person. It had been hard enough just to maintain her façade the past couple of years. Now, she faced the need to pull up roots, leave people she cared about, and start all over again some place new. Sometimes, just the thought of it overwhelmed her. She longed to be able to confide in Brad, tell him who she was, why she had been hiding, and why she had to leave again in a few short weeks. But she couldn’t do it. He might try to convince her to stay, and she might not be able to say no. She couldn’t risk it. Jeffrey always knew where she was most vulnerable; he would try to punish her by going after Brad or Jennie.

  “I’m fine.” Forcing a smile, she rose on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Honest.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, because I need a favor.”

  “What is it? More uniforms to be hemmed? Costumes to alter?”

  “Uhm…” He fidgeted for a moment then just said it, the words tumbling over each other in the rush to get them out. “It’s like this, Anne. The athletic boosters are having a fundraiser at the school tonight, and Joe Carter is grilling. His barbecued chicken is positively incredible. I’m not sure how you feel about people seeing us together as a couple, but I’d really like to take you.” He took a big gulp of air. “It starts about six, but people come and go all evening. We could eat our meal there, or we can get take out and eat at my place or in the park.”

  Anne loved barbecued chicken, and her mouth watered just thinking about it. But Jeffrey had never allowed Anne to fix it. He’d said it was too messy and smeared your face like a clown’s makeup.

  “Will you go with me?”

  “Together?”

  He nodded and pointed at her then himself. “That’s the idea. You, me, food. Dinner.”

  “Brad, I’m not sure…”

  “What a wonderful idea,” Myra said suddenly appearing beside Anne. “Of course, you should go. You were stuck here all winter while Ed and I were gone. Now, it’s time for you to go and have some fun with your young man.”

  “Brad isn’t — I mean, we aren’t—”

  Brad gave a dramatic sigh. “Alas, Mrs. Hodges, I fear Anne thinks I’m far too old to be called her ‘young’ anything.”

  “You are not,” Anne protested then felt the heat rush to her cheeks.

  “Good, then it’s decided,” Brad said. “I’ve got a couple things to do at the school, but I’ll be back to pick you up at six.”

  “Wait!” Panic spiraled inside Anne. Dinner alone with Brad? “Why don’t we just meet there? The school’s not far from here and I can use the exercise.”

  “No way. It’s a twenty-minute walk from here. My mother and aunt would have my head if they heard I’d let you walk,” he said.

  “Don’t be silly. There’s no reason for you to come back here from the school. I’ll just meet you there.”

  “Ed and I can drop her off,” Myra offered. “We drive right past the high school on our way home.”

  “Okay,” he agreed although a bit reluctantly. “Meet me by the cafeteria door, Anne. I’ll be the guy drooling over the smell of the barbecue.”

  He quickly kissed her cheek then headed to the door before she could offer any further protest. “See you at six,” he called over his shoulder.

  Anne puffed out a breath when the door closed. “Oh my goodness, what have I done?”

  Myra wrapped her arm around Anne’s shoulder and gave a motherly squeeze. “You’ve agreed to have a pleasant evening with a very nice young man.”

  “I thought Jeffrey was a nice young man, too.”

  “Stop right there!” the shopkeeper insisted. “You were young, and Jeffrey took advantage of your innocence with his smooth talk and cultured airs. But behind that elegant facade, he was a bully and an abuser.”

  She cupped Anne’s face in her hands and stared into her eyes. “Honey, the majority of men aren’t like your ex. Certainly Brad Carmichael isn’t. He is a kind-hearted and caring man, a good Christian and a wonderful father. He would never hurt or belittle a woman — or anyone else.”

  “You’re right. There is no façade with Brad. He’s the real deal.”

  Myra wrapped her arm around Anne’s waist and walked her back to the quilting circle area.

  “Sit,” she said, pointing to a settee then settled beside her and reached for Anne’s hand. “Tell me, Anne, have you told Brad about Jeffrey’s upcoming parole?”

  “No, and promise you won’t say anything either, Myra.”

  “Your secret is safe with me, dear, but do you think it’s fair to Brad? He cares about you. Anyone can see it. Don’t you think he has a right to know?”

  Anne shook her head, vehemently. “I can’t tell him. It would be too dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” The shop owner frowned. “Anne, if you think Jeffrey is a threat, you need to take out a restraining order. I’ll have my attorney—”

  “No! An RO is just a piece of paper. I had one the last time, Myra. All it did was make Jeffrey angrier. He kept raging about it as he pummeled me, said I’d made people stop trusting him. I lost my baby because of him. I’d never forgive myself if he hurt Jennie.”

  “You should have pressed charges, honey, and kept him in jail for much longer.”

  “Maybe, but he’d have gotten out eventually and hunted me down. I have no doubt he’d kill me.” Anne bit her lip and blinked back her tears before turning to her friend. “He probably still will, Myra. It’s why I need to get away just as soon as I hear Jeffrey has been released. I can’t tell Brad, he’d try to stop me. I can’t risk anything happening to him or Jennie. Please don’t tell him.”

  The shopkeeper nodded then pulled Anne into a comforting hug. “Ed and I will help any way we can,” she promised.

  “I know,” Anne said. “But I don’t want Jeffrey to—”

  “Hush! We’ll talk about it when the time comes. Right now, you need to scoot out of here and freshen up for your date.”

  “But the shop—”

  Myra cut off her protest with a warm chuckle. “I can handle things just fine. Now, go! Shoo.”

  Anne headed for the back door. She didn’t feel much like going out, but Brad might be suspicious if she cancelled. She crossed the back lot, planning what she could wear for a school function, something neither too dressy nor too casual. Her good jeans would do nicely, and she would wear the rosy pink sweater Brad had complimented on Valentine’s Day. She’d been saving it for another special occasion, and dinner out with Brad certainly fit the criteria.

  It’s not a date, she reminded herself, as she took a long soak in the tub. It can’t be called a date if go by yourself and just meet the person there.

  Still, she spent a few extra minutes rubbing on fragrant body lotion then putting on a dab of eye shadow to hide her puffy eyes. Checking her reflection in the mirror, she decided her face still was too pale, so she added a dash of pretty rose-colored lipstick that almost matched her sweater. She reached for her hairbrush. Should she leave her hair down or tie it back? Brad always complimented her when she wore it down, so maybe she should plug in her curling iron.

  What are you doing? It doesn’t matter how you wear your hair. This is not a date. Brad just wants you to keep him company. It’s only a school fundraiser. Go, eat some chicken, then come back home. No big deal.

  She felt better once she’d put it in those terms. Grabbing an elastic band, she pulled her long hair into its usual ponytail. It goes better with my jeans anyway.

  Jeffery would have scoffed at her outfit and the barbecue. He didn’t go anywhere or eat anything that might soil his immaculate attire. The idea of mingling and eating with “common” people at a local fundraiser would appall him.

  “Too bad. It’s your loss, Jeffrey Harper,” she said and stuck her tongue out at the mirror. “This girl can’t wait to sink her teeth into a nice piece of barbecued chicken.”

  She glanced at her watch and realized if she hu
rried, she’d be in time to help Myra and Ed close the shop. It was the least she could do since Myra had offered to drop her off at the high school. After a final check in the mirror, Anne scooped up her purse then exited her apartment. Thankfully, the dead offerings had ceased since Myra’s call to Animal Control. It was nice not to worry about what she’d find on the doormat anymore. She crossed the porch then paused with her hand on the bannister.

  Brad stood below her, his foot on the first step. When he glanced up and saw her, he gave her a lopsided grin and rushed up the steps, taking them two at a time.

  “Hi. I finished my errands early so I figured I’d come pick you up,” he said. As he spoke, his gaze swept over her. “Mmm, I love the way this sweater hugs you in all the right places.”

  Anne’s mouth went dry as he backed her up against the door. Then, with his palms resting on the wood beside her head, he leaned into her and trailed a row of kisses from her temple to her jaw. “I’ve thought about doing this all day.”

  “Uhm… Myra and Ed are probably waiting for—”

  Mischievously, he quirked a brow and shook his head. “Nope. I stopped by the shop first to let them know I’m driving you after all.”

  “Then we should get going,” Anne protested, but her arms wrapped around his neck. She licked her lips. “You said dinner started at six.”

  “It’s a barbecue,” he murmured, his voice deliciously seductive. “We have plenty of time.”

  His face lowered to hers, his brown eyes darkening with desire as his mouth claimed hers. One hand cupped the back of her head while the other slid down her body, exploring her curves. His hips pressed against hers, and Anne lost all thought of dinner.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Okay, spin around so I can be sure I have all the pins out of your seams,” Anne instructed the young actor who’d play the part of Winthrop in the school play. She’d made a quick alteration to his trousers the night before and had brought them to this evening’s practice so she could check the fit. “You wouldn’t want to discover one hiding when you go to sit down during a performance.”

  The teenager grimaced. “Ouch. I signed on to sing not be a pincushion.”

  Anne laughed and shooed him off to get changed then turned to the last person in the line.

  Brad’s flag captain, Lexi, trailed yards of dark gray taffeta as Anne waved her forward. Despite the girl’s best efforts to hold up the fabric, her bulky skirt still managed to trip her when she climbed the stage steps. She threw a glare at the cast members who’d remained after practice, daring any of them to so much as crack a grin. No one did.

  “My skirt is too long,” she announced as she stepped on the low footstool Anne used for her alterations.

  “Oh?” Anne teased. “I thought you enjoyed twirling yards and yards of taffeta.”

  “On a flag, yeah. On this…” The girl wrinkled her nose. “Not so much.”

  “What happened to the pretty blue dress we already fitted for you?” Anne asked as she set to work with her tape measure and pin cushion. “I thought your wardrobe was all set.”

  “Mr. Johnson decided the widow needed something more somber.”

  Anne had heard similar comments from several of the other young actors in the last two days. Brad had warned her about it, too. Apparently, Cal grew increasingly antsy as each play’s opening drew near and often made last minute staging and costuming changes. She glanced across the auditorium to where the director stood deep in conversation with Brad, arms gesticulating as he tried to make a point.

  He probably wants to rewrite the musical score, she thought when she noticed Brad’s scowl. Anne could certainly sympathize with Brad’s frustration.

  The show opened the following week, so there was no time for changes, musical or otherwise. Costume alterations took a lot of time. Luckily, the audience sat too far away to notice fine details so her stitches could be a bit bigger and less meticulous than on a quilt or regular clothes. However, the hems and seams still had to be done carefully so they’d be strong enough to resist the workout they’d receive from teenage actors during the run of the show. With Myra back in town, Anne could take time off now from The Stitching Post, so she planned to attend every performance in case of any mishap.

  And to spend as much time as possible with Brad.

  Anne pushed the thought from her mind and concentrated on pinning Lexi’s new costume. The voluminous skirt seemed to stretch on and on similar to one of those confounding, infinity loops that never end. Her knees ached by the time she tucked in the last straight pin.

  “Ta da!” she exclaimed, rocking back to sit on her heels. “Finished at last. Can you step down and walk across the stage, Lexi, so I can make sure the hem is even?”

  “This is much better,” the girl declared. When she reached the wing of the stage, she twirled sharply to send her skirts swirling around her slender frame.

  “Whoa, easy!” Anne warned. “If you spin like that, you’ll make like a porcupine and send my straight pins flying in all directions.”

  “Sorry,” the flag captain apologized, but her infectious giggle belied her words.

  Anne chuckled and pointed to a seat in the front row where several garments were already piled. “Go ahead and change then put your costume over there so I can take it home with me tonight.”

  When the teen went to the dressing room, Anne gathered up her scissors, tape measure, and the remaining pins. As she put them away, she spotted a small triangle of light purple fabric tucked in the corner of her in sewing tote. It was a scrap from her unfinished Friendship Star quilt. She plucked it from the tote and rubbed it wistfully between her fingers.

  Her life had been so happy when she’d cut out the pieces for the quilt. She’d had a job, security, and a cozy place to call home. The flattering attention from Brad and Mario had helped restore her self-confidence, and her growing circle of friends had made her feel loved. For the first time in years, she’d viewed the future with optimism instead of fear. She’d started to believe she might be able to make a new beginning here, live a normal life with friends and maybe even a family. She’d chosen the pretty pattern to reflect her feelings. A symbol of her wonderful new life.

  Jeffrey’s upcoming parole had changed everything. She’d soon be on the run again, staying a few months here and a few months there. Her life would be as scattered as the unfinished quilt back at The Stitching Post.

  “Ouch!”

  Anne startled at the sound. She found Brad kneeling beside her, rubbing his knee to retrieve the straight pin that had poked him.

  “A pin-knee for your thoughts?” he asked, offering the culprit to her with his endearingly boyish grin.

  “Very funny, but I wouldn’t quit my day job if I were you,” she said as she took the pin and tossed it in her tote.

  “You wound me mortally, Quilt Shop Lady,” he replied, placing one hand dramatically on his heart and the back of the other against his forehead.

  “Like I said, Music Man, don’t quit your day job.”

  He chuckled and rose to his feet. “If you’re finished for the night, I’ll drive you home.”

  “Thanks, Brad, but you don’t need to drive me. You have to pick up Jennie from the sitter. I can just walk.”

  “You could, but I doubt you should try with all of those.” Brad pointed to the pile of costumes. “Looks like Cal’s given you a bit of sewing homework, Miss Brown. You’ll never be able to carry all of them home by yourself.”

  He had a point.

  “Thanks,” she said accepting the hand he offered to help her to rise.

  He pulled her to her feet then leaned toward her. “Besides, I already told the sitter I’d be late tonight.”

  Liquid warmth coursed through Anne as his eyes darkened with a desire. It was incredible. Brad wanted her as much as she wanted him. For just a breathless moment, she filled her senses with the sight and touch and feel of him. Let herself imagine how it would be to give in to the hunger and take Brad t
o her bed. To ride the waves of passion until their desire crashed around them, leaving them sated and complete. He would be a masterful but caring lover, she was certain of it. But she couldn’t do it. Not to him, not to herself. It would make it much harder when she had to leave Grandville — and him — in just a few short weeks.

  Releasing his hand, she lowered her gaze and took a deep breath. “Brad, I have a lot of work to do. I need to get started on those costumes as soon as I get home.”

  “I could help,” he whispered, running a finger over her cheek. “I’m very handy at threading needles.”

  She gave him a smile to take the sting from her refusal. “I’m sure you’d also be much too distracting.”

  “I’d sure give it my best shot,” he admitted then gestured to the pile of costumes. “Let me carry your homework out to the car then I’ll drive you to your place.”

  For some reason, his gentlemanly acceptance disappointed her. On one level, his behavior made it easier for her, but on another, she longed for him to sweep her into his arms, kiss her hungrily, and try to convince her. He’d never be like Jeffrey, would never force her, but she’d expected a bit more of a protest. Averting her face so he couldn’t see her warring emotions, she snapped the lid on her sewing tote with a bit more force than necessary.

  “You dropped something,” Brad said, bending down to pick up a scrap of purple fabric. “What is it?”

  Anne lifted the tote then gestured to a nearby trash can. “Just a leftover from a project that didn’t work out. You can throw it away.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “I wish you’d change your mind and come with us. Jennie is going to be so disappointed. So will Mom and Aunt Bonnie.”

  Anne nearly caved in at the mention of Brad’s daughter, but she managed to stay strong. Of course, it helped to be having the conversation on the phone. When Brad was with her, it was so much harder.