by Tim Myers
After she was gone, Lillian came back into the shop. “I waited outside for her to leave so you wouldn’t fuss at me. What was so confidential, Jennifer?”
Ignoring her question, I said, “I’ve got to have a hundred invitations ready in four days. Are you willing to help?”
“You know I am, but I’m the first one to admit that I’m not all that competent a card maker.”
“Think of it as on-the-job training, then,” I said, promising myself to make ten extra invitations so we could select the best hundred from the batch. I was trying to figure out the most efficient way to meet my deadline when the front door chimed again. I’d put the electric signal in to announce customers, but it was becoming a harbinger of trouble for me.
My visitor matched that description perfectly when saw that Greg Langston had decided to visit my shop in person after all. Perfect, that was just what I needed—another complication in my life.
Chapter 7
“Greg, I’m really busy at the moment,” I said, trying to convey the message that I didn’t have time to deal with him.
“Yeah, I can see you’re overwhelmed with customers.”
I wanted to dispute his impression, but I couldn’t do a thing about it. “Just because no one is here doesn’t mean I’m not busy.”
“You always were so good at expressing your opinions clearly and succinctly. Hey, Lillian.”
“Hello, Greg. I can see you two would like some privacy, so I’ll get out of your way.” With that, she moved two steps back, still within easy eavesdropping range. For some odd reason, my silly aunt was grinning broadly. Oh, well, there was nothing I couldn’t say to Greg in front of her.
I turned back to him and said, “I mean it. I really am busy.”
His eyebrows arched, but he didn’t comment again, “I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to know how long you’ve been dating Deputy Wayne behind my back.”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
“Don’t deny it, Jennifer. I saw the two of you on your front porch last night. I don’t know what kind it of silly fantasy you were acting out in that ridiculous coat and wig, but I knew it was you.” I was speechless. There were so many things I wanted to address I literally couldn’t figure out where to start. “Greg Langston, have you been stalking me?”
“No, of course not.” He looked sheepish about something. “I just happened to be passing by.”
“Of course, I’m just seven miles out of the way between your pottery shop and your apartment, but you ‘just happened’ to be in my neighborhood.”
“Don’t avoid the question,” he said sternly.
“Which one? None of them are true.” I ticked them off on my fingers, which were perilously close to his nose. “I am not dating Wayne. Even if I were having the affair of the century with him, it wouldn’t be any of your business. I wasn’t acting out anything.” I thought about explaining to him that I’d been hiding my identity from a killer, but I was too mad to go into it. Then suddenly it dawned on me. “Bradford put you up to it, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He broke eye contact with me, a sure sign that he was lying.
“Don’t bother denying it. My brother thinks that I‘m in need of protection. Why he called you I’ll never know.”
“I’ll tell you why he asked me to watch out for you. Fie knows that I still care about you, Jennifer, and I don’t want to see you throwing your life away on somebody like Deputy Wayne.”
“You mean instead of somebody like you?” I snapped, being a little snippier than I’d meant to sound.
“You could do a lot worse,” he said, then threw his hands up. “Forget it—this isn’t worth it.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” As he stormed out, Greg did his level best to slam my front door, but the shock absorber on it was brand-new, and it barely whispered shut. Loaded for bear and ready for fight, I glanced over at Lillian. “Is there something you’d like to add to the conversation?” I asked her. “Me? I sincerely doubt it,” she said. “Good. Now let’s get started making some wedding invitations.”
“She’s certainly given you a lot of leeway, hasn’t she?” Lillian said as I went through my stock searching for a paper that would please Anne Albright. I chose a white paper I’d made myself with flecks of gold glitter in it; different enough for her tastes but traditional enough for a wedding announcement. I handed the stock to Lillian and said, “We need these cut into sheets that are five and a half inches by eleven. Can you handle that while I gather the rest of the supplies together?”
“Certainly,” Lillian said. “Should I use regular scissors or that craft knife I used before? Or do you have a special tool for me?”
I grabbed a stationery paper cutter and handed it to her. “Use this.” I took one of the full sheets, carefully marked the different cut lines for her, then said, “Use this as a template. You’ll be able to get the most invitations per page this way. Don’t throw the excess away. We’ll use that later.”
“Yes, Ma’am. And what happens if a customer happens to wander into the shop?”
I thought about shutting down so I could meet my deadline, but I really couldn’t afford to turn any potential customers away. “I’ll handle the foot traffic. You just focus on making those cuts.”
Lillian nodded, then took the cutter and sheets to the table we’d worked at before. I said, “Would you mind working in the back on my bench? I need to be up front where I can wait on customers.”
“Do you think it is wise for you to work in the window like that? You’re awfully exposed.”
“Lillian, if the killer wants to get me, there’s not much I can do about it, but I won’t let myself be driven into a hole to avoid her.”
She nodded. “I knew what your answer would be, but I still felt obligated to ask. If you need me, just call.”
With Lillian in back cutting the blanks, I started playing with design ideas based on what I knew of the mother of the bride. It wasn’t the ideal situation for me, but I didn’t have much choice, and there was no way I was returning the full fee just because my guidelines were looser than I’d hoped. I grabbed a few of my nicest pencils and some plain typing paper, then sat down at my table with Mrs. Albright’s crib sheet and got started. I didn’t know whether to be happy about it or not, but not a single customer interrupted my work. I played with a dozen different designs. Paper flowers always enhanced a formal card, and I often used a technique called quilling for wrapping spirals out of strips of paper to create teardrop petals, but I needed something different, something with real snap. I played with the idea of bells, tuxedos and wedding gowns on the front, then searched through my collection of stamps and even looked at the manufactured accessories I used on some of my cards, but nothing grabbed me. I wasn’t beat yet, though. “Lillian, I’m going out for a few minutes. Could you watch the front?”
She came out with a partially cut sheet in one hand. Should you go anywhere alone? I’d be happy to accompany you.”
“Then who’s going to wait on our customers?” Before she could make a crack about that, I added, “If we should get any?”
“Honestly, Jennifer, do you actually think I’d be to help anyone if they did come in? I know next to nothing about making cards.”
“I’m not asking you to give private lessons. You can run a cash register, and the prices are marked on everything. If you get something you can’t handle, tell them to hang around or come back later.” I left before she could raise any more objections. It’s a short walk to the place I used as a secret store house for my card supplies. Farrar Hardware had the latest selection of doodads in town, and I wasn’t above using something I found there in one of my own designs. “Hey, Grady,” I said as I walked into the ancient building with its scarred hardwood floors. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling had been there since before I’d been born. The owner, Mr. Grady Farrar, was an older man with a full head of silver hair and a quick comment on just about everything.
“Jennifer Shane, you didn’t close your business already, did you?”
“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” I said as I smiled. “My aunt’s watching the store for me.”
“And what does Miss Lillian know about card making?”
“She’s learning,” I said.
Grady laughed. “So the saying about teaching as old dog must be wrong.”
“I’m going to tell her you said that.”
Grady blanched slightly. “Now you know I was just teasing you. You wouldn’t say anything to her, would you?”
“Of course not.” I knew firsthand how acidic my aunt’s tongue could be, and Grady was too nice a man to be on the receiving end of it.
“Bless your heart. So what can I help you with this fine day?”
“I’m not really sure,” I said as I rummaged through some of the drawers near the register. Grady’s place had been in the family for over a hundred years, and I doubted the man himself had any idea about what all he had in stock. “I’m doing wedding invitations for a customer.”
He held up a shotgun shell. “How about using one of these on every card?”
He was smiling about it, but it was a little too close to the real situation for me. “No, I need something unexpected.”
“Well, help yourself. If you need a hand, just ask, and if you need a price, I’ll make one up right on the spot for you.”
I kept browsing, searching for something that would give the cards an edge. After twenty minutes I was about to give up when I passed the aisle stocked with, screws, nuts and bolts. On one of the bottom shelves, I found a box of brass fittings no bigger than a quarter that looked like gold wedding bands. “Do you have any thin brass wire?” I asked him.
“Got all kinds,” Grady said as he led me to an area with picture-framing supplies on it.
I grabbed a roll of wire and put it on the counter next to the brass fittings. “What do I owe you?” I asked.
“Let’s see,” Grady said as he made a few of his chicken scratches on the back of a brown paper bag. “I think five bucks should do it.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to cheat you.” Grady said, “Young lady, don’t ever doubt I’ll charge you all the market will allow.”
I laughed and grabbed the bag as I threw a five on the counter. “I need a receipt, please.” He turned another bag over and jotted down my receipt. “Don’t you have something a little less casual?” I asked.
“That blamed cash register is busted again, so that will have to do. Government doesn’t mind, just as long as it’s signed and dated, and I took care of that already.”
“That’s great, thanks.”
As I raced for the door, Grady said, “Come back in.”
“You know it.”
Lillian was waiting in the doorway when I got back to the Three Cs. “What is it?” I asked her as I brushed past. “Is something wrong?”
“You took an awfully long time, Jennifer. I was just out to call your brother.”
That was all I needed, another episode with Bradford attracting all of the wrong kind of attention to my shop. “I’m glad you didn’t. It took me longer than thought to find what I was looking for.” She gestured to the small bag in my hand. “And you believe you found it?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” I went back to the table, moved my drawings out of the way, then retrieved a pair of small pliers and a hole punch. Folding a piece of card stock into thirds, I attached section of wire to each of the front doors of the card, threading a brass fitting as I worked. A touch of hot glue to keep the pieces firmly in place, and I had a card I could work with. “So what do you think?” I asked Lillian as I handed the card to her.
“But it’s blank inside,” she said as she opened the doors of the card.
“Of course it’s blank. I’m fast, but I’m not that fast., Besides, I’m not sure what kind of card I want it to be yet. I’m talking about the design on front.”
“That? Why, it’s lovely. A little modern, though isn’t it? It looks a little industrial to me.”
“Good, that’s exactly what I was going for. Now, what color pen should I use for the calligraphy? Would gold be too common?”
Lillian tapped the card with her fingers. “Don’t you think a fancy script inside would be a bit jarring with this exterior? I should think you’d want something a little starker, don’t you?”
I hugged my aunt, and she asked, “What was that for?”
“For having a great idea. Why don’t you search through the fonts we have on the computer, and when you find something close to what you have in mind, I’ll use it for the cards.”
“You mean you’re going to print the invitations out on your computer?”
“Well, I could hand-letter all one hundred, but she needs them in four days, and my arm would fall off before I could manage that. Don’t worry; I have a good idea about what I’m going to do.”
“You’re the one in charge,” she said. “I finished cutting the stock just before you got back. I thought she wanted a hundred even. Why are we making more?”
“There’s always a chance we won’t like our first few,” I said. “And besides, I want to be able to pick our best efforts for her. I’m a little nervous about my first paying job here.”
“You’ll do fine,” Lillian said. “After all, you’ve got the best assistant in town. Now I’ll just go find that font.”
I started marking and folding the cards, happy with my choices. I just hoped Mrs. Albright would be satisfied. While I wanted Donna to be pleased, it was just is important to me that the bride’s mother was happy with the results, too. One bad bit of word-of-mouth would probably kill my shop so soon after opening.
Lillian found a font we both agreed on, and we were busy tweaking the design when my aunt said, “Look at the time. We should have locked up an hour ago. I just realized something. You worked straight through your lunch, Jennifer.” My stomach rumbled at the mention of lunch, and realized she was right. That happened sometimes when I was absorbed in a new project. “I’ll grab something later. We’re making real progress here.”
Lillian said, “Still, you have to eat something. What time is your class tonight?”
“What class?” I asked absently as I played with the wording inside the invitation. “The class you’re teaching, young lady.” I’d forgotten all about my private lesson scheduled for later that evening. “I don’t have time to eat,” I yelped as I started gathering the materials together to clear the worktable in front of the shop. “Nonsense, there’s always time for that,” she said as she helped me. “Here’s what we’ll do. You have thirty-five minutes before your new pupil is due to arrive. You set up for your class, and I’ll pick up something for you to eat. What would you like?”
“A burger would be fine,” I said absently as I kept cleaning the table.
“You need more than that. How about a salad to go along with it?”
“Fine, whatever. I have to get this ready.”
As Lillian started to go, she said, “Now don’t forget, you need to lock the door behind me.”
“I won’t forget,” I said as I dragged a rag across the table to shove any leftover remnants into the trash can.
“Lock it now, Jennifer,” she said, “or I’m not going.”
“Fine, I’ll do it. Just go.”
She walked out the door, then lingered on the steps until I locked the door as instructed. I stuck my tongue, out at her, which she returned; then she finally walked down Oakmont, no doubt going to HamSmith’s. Hamilton Smith ran a boutique grill on our block, offering everything from salmon to my favorite hamburgers in the world. By the time Lillian got back with the food I had the supplies laid out for my first lesson with ten minutes to spare.
I peeked in the bag. “Hey, there’s way too much I food in here.”
“I thought I’d join you. I skipped lunch, too, remember? You don’t mind, do you?”
“I’d be delighted,” I sa
id. “Get enough out of the cash drawer to pay yourself back, okay?”
She waved a hand in the air, dismissing me. “It’s not important.”
As hungry as I was and as great as that hamburger smelled, I pushed it away from me on the counter.
Lillian asked, “Is there something wrong with the food?”
“There surely is.”
“What is it?” she asked. “I ordered your usual.”
“I’m sure the food’s fine. The problem is that didn’t pay for it. It’s bad enough that I can’t afford to pay you for your work here, but I draw the line at accepting your handouts.”
Lillian’s eyes sparked. “For heaven’s sakes, don’ be so pigheaded. I want to do this. Let me treat you to lunch or dinner, or whatever this is.”
I had to wonder if I was just being stubborn, if I could afford to stand on principle when I didn’t have the money to back it up. “I’ll make you a deal,” I said as my mouth started to water. “I’ll let you pay for this if you let me buy lunch tomorrow.” I’d have a check from my student tonight to cover lunch the next day.
“That sounds lovely. Now eat your food before it gets cold.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I said as I bit into the hamburger. I surprised myself by finishing my salad, too, though I normally wasn’t big on leafy greens. It was amazing how hunger could make just about anything taste good. I shoved the wrappers and containers into my bag and threw it into the big trash can. “That was great. Thanks.”
“You’re most welcome.” Lillian had skipped ordering a burger and was still pecking away at her salad. That woman made an event out of every meal, making it stretch as long as possible. I was more of a grab-and-go kind of gal myself.
There was a tap on the front door, and I fully exacted to see Melinda standing there.
Instead, it was Greg, and from the sour look on his ice, it appeared that he was back for round two.
HANDCRAFTED CARD-MAKING TIP
Charms can be successfully used on handcrafted cards to make them really stand out. Not only do they give each card a personal touch, but the recipient can add your contribution to her bracelet after she’s enjoyed your card, and think of you every time she looks at it.
