by Terri Thayer
I was afraid that just the opposite was true. Kym's pajamas were probably all silk and lace. Red teddies. Black negligees. Since she was married to my brother, I struggled not to picture the possibilities.
At least the silly problem of what not to wear was enough to keep us off the subject of dead men.
I said, "Customers get a deeper discount if they show up in their pajamas. From six to seven, the discount is 30 percent to anyone wearing their pajamas, 25 percent until eight a.m. Then the discount goes to 20, and stays there the rest of the day. By eight o'clock, everyone will be in street clothes," I said. "I just thought it would be fun if we were dressed in our nightclothes, too. At the very least, wear your QP T-shirt."
Kym looked somewhat mollified. I knew she would bedazzle her store shirt and pair it with a fringed skirt. She liked to look fashionable. I didn't understand who she was dressing for at the quilt shop.
"Let's get back to the agenda. We need to work on..." I didn't get to finish my sentence.
"The favors," Kym interrupted. "Work on the favors."
I swallowed a reprimand. Kym saw no problem in blurting out her every thought as it arose. Decorum, rules of order, agendas were meaningless to her. Like many of the changes I'd instituted, she ignored the ones she didn't want to participate in.
Some of the changes had cost money. Money I hadn't quite made back yet. This sale could turn that around in a weekend.
It had to.
None of the people at this table, especially Kym, had a clue what this sale meant to Quilter Paradiso. My new accountant pre dicted we had about three months left unless we had a large infusion of cash.
I looked around the table for support. Ina smiled at me, giving me the resolve to stand my ground. "We're not handing out favors, Kym."
"Of course we are," Kym said. "Remember I told you about those adorable lapel pins that looked like palm trees. Just like our logo. I made six in under an hour, so I'm sure we could make plenty by the weekend."
I tried to appeal to her inherent laziness. "I'm expecting hundreds of people through those doors on Saturday. We'd go crazy trying to make enough favors for each person."
"I'll make them," Kym said.
"I'll help," Jenn said. She smiled at Kym as though the two were curing cancer.
"You don't have time." My jaw ached from holding back my anger.
Vangie tapped her pen on the paper in front of her impatiently.
"That's not for you to say, Dewey," Kym said. "We have time."
Not for me to say? If not me, than who? I was the owner of the store. My cheeks reddened as I realized I'd given Kym the upper hand again.
Fighting back the exhaustion I felt, I put more force behind my words. "You do not have time. It's Wednesday already. Did you even look at the whiteboard in the classroom?"
I ticked off on my fingers all the work that had to be done before Saturday.
"Number one, we've got to clean the store from top to bottom. Number two, package the QPO kits. Number three, more fat quarters need to get cut between now and then." I could hear my voice rising, but I couldn't stop myself. By the third to-do on the list, I was practically yelling.
I took in a deep breath, trying to hold myself together. I continued, "We've got a huge shipment of notions that will have to be put out. Displays have to be made. We have to hang all the QP Originals."
"We used to have favors," Kym said.
The lament of the left behind, "We used to." All I could think of were the things that wouldn't get done because Jenn and Kym were making silly pins that would end up in the bottom of our customers' junk drawers.
"I forgot," Kym said. "Things are being done differently now."
I winced as she mimicked one of my favorite catchphrases.
"Ina, your report, please," I said ignoring Kym's gibe.
I wasn't the only one getting mad at Kym. Vangie's brow was dangerously furrowed and she looked like she was about to blow. Vangie could stew for hours after a scene with Kym. I needed her focused and working.
I gave Ina a pleading look, and she took us back to the business at hand.
"The Old Maid's Puzzle quilt is being finished," Ina said. "The raffle tickets are printed. The Stitch 'n' Bitch group will be in the classroom, hand quilting it on Saturday. Of course, all the proceeds are going to Women First shelter."
"Great, thanks." I touched Vangie's hand. "Let's let Vangie tell us about the publicity."
Vangie gathered herself and stood to give her report. She had put on a few needed pounds in the last year. She had gained confi dence, too, now able to speak in front of the group without mumbling. I smiled at her, but she didn't need my shoring up. All eyes were on her, except for Kym who was now flipping through the latest Quiltmaker Magazine.
Vangie chose to rise above Kym's insulting inattention. "A postcard about the anniversary sale went out to everyone in the database and an e-mail reminder will go out tomorrow. Now for the real exciting news."
Vangie reached under the table and brought up a rolledup poster.
"Drum roll please," Vangie said. Jenn used her index fingers on the edge of the table, until she caught a glance from Kym. The drumming came to an abrupt stop.
"Ta-da. Here's the Quilter Paradiso Original Quilts poster."
I led the applause as we passed around the colorful sign. It was brilliant. Vangie had taken our logo, the palm trees with a clothesline strung between them, and substituted the QPO quilts for the more traditional quilts that usually hung on the line. There was Celeste's Garden next to Ina's Over Easy and Pearl's Coastal Landscape. Vangie's Starry Nights hung next to Jenn's Home for the Holidays.
Vangie continued, "Fabric is cut for kits for each of the quilts. The customer will be able to duplicate the quilt pretty closely with the kit. If someone wants to use their own fabric, we'll have the patterns available for sale as well."
Quilt kits were tricky. Some of my customers adored buying them. Loved that the fabric and pattern were included. Loved having all the decisions made for them. Loved the idea that the kit was ready whenever they had a chance to work on it, which for many, was the middle of the night.
On the other hand, a kit could retail for upwards of three hundred dollars, depending on the size of the finished quilt. Not only was the cost prohibitive for some of my customers, fabric in a kit was merchandise taken out of circulation. Unless the quilt kit sold, I didn't get back my investment. Profit was on hold until then. I couldn't afford to tie up too much of my inventory in kits in case they didn't sell.
It was a balancing act-have enough kits made to sell, but not too many. As this was the first time the QPO kits were available, I had no historical data to mine. Vangie and I had come up with a conservative estimate, with the idea that we could cut more kits if the demand was there.
Vangie said, "We cut enough fabric for five kits of each quilt. We still need to package those, in bags with the patterns attached and display them."
I waited for the chatter around the new quilt kits to die down. Kym went back to perusing the ads in the back of the magazine.
Vangie said, "Dewey and I'll be hanging the samples up after the store closes on Thursday, to maximize the surprise effect. No one knows about the Quilter Paradiso Originals Line, and we want the customers to be truly surprised." "
I noticed I'm not on the poster," Kym said, scowling.
I hid a smile. Vangie could, and would, exercise her own power.
Vangie said, "I never received the directions to your Joyous Hearts quilt, so I haven't been able to write up the instructions. No instructions, no QP Original Quilt."
Jenn asked Vangie a question, something about pictures. Vangie told her she'd talk to her later. I got the impression Vangie didn't want me to hear. I was intrigued. That was an unlikely pair of comrades.
I jumped in before Kym could give her excuses. I turned my laptop screen toward the group. I'd already pulled up the e-mail with Lark's clip on it.
"Two more things. Big t
hings. One, is that the Quilter Paradiso segment is going to air on Wonderful World of Quilts on Friday morning," I said. "We have a preview." I pushed the button and let it play.
An excited buzz started around the table. Jenn put two fingers to her mouth and wolf-whistled. Ina high-fived her. Even Vangie smiled.
Kym tossed her hair back and struck a pose. "I look damned good on TV," she said.
Vangie leaned over to me, and said sotto voce, "You better hope she never discovers YouTube"
I laughed. "We need to spread the word. Kym, let everyone know you're going to be a star. I'm sure your parents will want to tape it. Vangie's going to put an announcement up on our website. I'll include it in the e-mail about the sale."
Ina said, "I can send a message to the guild list."
Jenn said, "I'll let my small quilt group know, and all the Yahoo lists I'm on."
Kym was beaming, the spotlight back on her. "Can you send that video to Kevin? On his e-mail thingy?"
"Yes," I said. "I can do that." I could have done it yesterday, but I'd wanted to surprise everyone at the meeting instead.
"This is our first nationwide exposure," I continued. "I'm sure it'll bring in plenty of new business. For sure, everyone will end up working really hard on Saturday. I'm recruiting extra help."
Kym had stopped listening. She said, "I've got to call Kevin." She started out of her seat.
"Hang on, "I said. "We're almost finished."
She reluctantly sat back down. "The other thing isn't quite as pleasant. A man was found dead in our alley last night."
Jenn said, "The paper said he might have been murdered."
Ina nodded. "The quilt guild listserv is full of speculation about that"
I made a mental note to monitor the chat on the group for the next couple of days. The last thing I needed was mass hysteria from my customers. The postings on that message board could heat up quickly.
"It's not clear how Mr. Bascomb died. Let's be a little more vigilant. No one stays alone in the shop. Use the buddy system to get to your car at night. I don't have any reason to think it's not safe in our parking lot, but it won't hurt to pay attention to your surroundings."
Ina nodded her approval. Jenn chewed on her fingernail. Kym looked like I'd brought up the dead man just to ruin her place in the limelight.
I glanced at the clock. It was five minutes after ten. The shop should have opened already. Not that I expected a lot of customers. Most would be saving their shopping until Saturday.
Jenn asked, "His name was Bascomb?"
I looked at her. Her lower lip was trembling. Did she know the guy? "Frank Bascomb, yes."
I waited for her to say more, but she just shook her head, so I continued.
"There is something else. Detective Zorn'll want to talk to each of you. I don't know when, maybe later on this afternoon."
"All of us?" Jenn said. "Even those of us who weren't here last night?"
I nodded. She'd gone even paler.
Kym opened her mouth, but I anticipated her question. "I will pay you for the time spent off the floor with the police. Just be sure to come and get me or Vangie to cover the floor while you're gone.
I drained my coffee cup. "Okay. It's time to open up. Jenn, you can get started on packaging the quilt kits. Do what you do bestmake them pretty, impossible to resist."
She smiled at me. I hoped the work would distract her from whatever she was feeling. The group pushed away from the table.
I gathered up my notes. "Kym, I need to speak to you about something."
She lingered with as much enthusiasm as a kid called to the principal's office. "What? I've got to call Kev."
I ignored her urgency. "Last night, when we printed out a class roster, I discovered that one of the students in the class hadn't paid. Did you sign up someone without payment?" I'd spoken to her about this before. It was one of those bad habits left over from the way they used to do things around here.
Kym said calmly, "Oh yeah, well she wasn't sure if she could make it to the first class. She babysits her granddaughter, and..."
I interrupted, "It doesn't matter why. I didn't know she wasn't paid, so I nearly didn't charge her last night. More importantly, I had people on the waiting list. What if she hadn't showed up? I'd have had an empty spot in the class that I could have filled with a paying customer. We can't afford to let that happen."
Kym was unmoved. "But Alice came, right? And she paid. What's the problem?"
I felt a throb in my head. Talking to Kym about proper procedure was a high-speed train to headache-land.
"Don't do it again. People do not go on the class list unless they've paid in advance. End of story."
She twisted her face in disgust. "Whatever."
She flounced away. I got the last word.
"Spit out your gum, Kym," I called after her. "You know you can't be on the store floor with gum in your mouth."
She stopped before exiting the kitchen. The garbage can lid swung open. She spit loudly. The victory was hollow for me.
I stepped to the sink to rinse out my coffee cup. Ina was still in the kitchen, putting away cups and wiping down the kitchen table.
"Yesterday was some day, wasn't it?" I said to her back.
"Today will be better," Ina said. "Things are definitely looking up.
I thought she was talking about her Stitch 'n' Bitch group, so I asked. "What was going on with Gussie and Celeste? Do you think they'll be okay?"
When there was no answer, I turned around. Ina was gone. Her friends' problems were not up for discussion.
I headed for my office, but was stuck out in the hall. Vangie had gotten there first and was blocking my way in. She was kneeling on the floor, arms in the safe that was positioned right behind the door, getting out the till money. I leaned on the doorjamb waiting for her to finish. The amount of stuff we had to do in three days was daunting. I stuffed down a worry about getting it all done.
The back door banged open. Coming toward me was a large box with two hands on the side edges. Dad's voice came out from behind it.
"Where do you want this?" Dad was his usual no-nonsense self. He wasn't big on hellos-or goodbyes, for that matter.
"What is it?" I said.
"How should I know?" he growled.
Kym came from the front of the store. She clapped her hands twice, like some kind of storybook princess. That was all she had to do around my brother and my father to have her wishes granted, a skill I'd never learned. "It's here. Thanks, Dad."
Even after three years of having Kym in the family, my stomach knotted when she called my father, Dad. I used to have the sole privilege of daughterly love, but now there was Kym. And for some reason unfathomable to me, he seemed to like her.
I could understand Kevin. At least he got to have sex with her. But Dad? Why did he like Kym so much? Did he really enjoy the fawning, the hanging on his every word of old stories. She laughed every time my father told her about dumping his Vespa in the old fountain in Cesar de Chavez Plaza. To me, it was another example of her short attention span and inability to retain anything.
"Hi, cutie," he said. He held still for her peck on the cheek. "Where do you want it?"
"I'm sorry, Dad. I thought Kevin would bring it over."
"Whaddya think? I can't handle it? What am I, a sick old man? I'm strong, like a bull. Watch this."
Vangie had heard my dad and was closing the safe, grinning. She loved to wind him up. Unless I wanted my father doing onearmed, Jack-Palance-style pushups in the hall like last time, I had to get him out of here. I didn't have the patience today. I gave Vangie a warning look, which she caught.
She twirled the dial on the safe and stood. She settled for an exchange of low-fives.
"Hi, Mr. P. What's in the box?" Vangie said.
Kym answered. "A custom rosewood light box."
"For you?" I asked, losing interest. If Kym wanted to buy one more thing she didn't need, it was none of my business. I scanned my d
esk, the throbbing red light on the answering machine drawing me in.
I'd only gotten two steps closer to the door when Kym's answer stilled me. "No, silly, for the store."
I felt the heat rise on my face. "What do I want with that?"
"It's just what the serious applique-er needs to trace her designs;" Kym said. "It's beautifully constructed with an energy-efficient lightbulb. It's got a remote. The light panels move aside and an ironing surface appears. Come on, Dewey, wake up. It's the latest."
It was huge. "How much did it cost?"
"Three-hundred and fifty dollars," Kym said.
That was ridiculously expensive for a light box that the average quilter would use once a year. My heart was racing when I asked the next question. "How did you pay for it?"
Vangie gave me a worried look. She handed off the till money to Jenn, who'd appeared from the front and melted away. I heard Vangie get on the computer. I knew she was headed to the credit card site to check out balances.
Kym sighed. "I used the number that your mom gave me a long time ago. She told me to always be on the lookout for special products."
About once every six months, Kym used the store card for a special item she thought might sell. They usually didn't. This was my fault. I'd forgotten to take it away from her. I couldn't have her running up charges, especially now.
Kym said, "I went to that quilt show in Folsom last weekend. This darling man was there, selling his homemade wooden items. I couldn't remember the store address, so Kevin gave him Pellicano's construction's address and here it is. It's going to be perfect."
She sent it to the contracting shop's address so I couldn't refuse the shipment, which is what I would have done. And would do. "Send it back." "
I can't. It's a one of a kind."
Naturally. I knew that this purchase would put me over my credit limit. The bank would sting me with another penalty. Was Kym ever going to get out of way and let me succeed?
My frayed nerves snapped. "Give the invoice to Vangie and tell her to make a barcode. We'll try to sell it this weekend," I said.
