Everyone agreed that this was a sensible way to begin, so Sylvia described the typical layout of aisles and booths, the assortment of items for sale, the hours and days that tended to be the busiest, and the food service arrangements. “Our ballroom is much larger than the church hall, so we’ll be able to have larger booths and more spacious aisles,” said Sylvia. “It will be much more pleasant for shopping.”
Sarah had been sketching a layout of the ballroom while Sylvia spoke, but a sudden, nagging thought made her set down her pencil. “The church is downtown, just a few blocks from campus on one side and those historic neighborhoods where the professors live on the other,” she said. “The boutique probably received a lot of business from people who came in out of curiosity when they passed by and saw all the activity. That isn’t going to happen way out here.”
“We’ll have to publicize the boutique,” said Gretchen. “Not only to let folks know about the change of venue, but to convince them the trip out our way will be worth their while.”
“Let’s underscore that point,” said Sylvia. “Although I’m sure Nancy and Melanie will inform the members of their church, we have to get the word out to the broader community.”
Sarah wrote “Publicity” on her notepad and underlined it. If only Summer were there. She would be perfect for the role of publicist, but she was even farther away than Matt.
Just then she heard the back door to the manor open and close, and a moment later, Summer’s mother appeared in the kitchen doorway. Gwen had shed her favorite vintage windowpane-check wool coat in the foyer and her cheeks were rosy from the cold. “You started without me?” she protested, smiling as she tucked her voluminous paisley skirts beneath her and sat down on the bench beside Sarah. She wore her long, wavy, gray-streaked auburn hair loose about her shoulders, and as she opened her satchel and took out a yellow legal pad and a pen, her beaded necklaces—seasonally festive in green, red, and gold—clinked faintly in time with her movements. “I take it we don’t have a moment to waste.”
“We really don’t,” said Sarah. She had not realized until they had begun working out the details just how much they had to do. Setting up the ballroom and banquet hall, keeping the forest road and parking lot plowed, assisting Anna as she whipped up a dazzling buffet—she was confident they could manage all that, but a publicity campaign too? And what other essential tasks would they discover when the other Elm Creek Quilters arrived with their suggestions?
Gwen arranged her notepad and pen on the table in front of her. “Summer asked me to tell you that she’s sorry she can’t get here until Friday night, but she has finals. She’ll help all day Saturday and Sunday.”
“Tell her she’ll be greatly missed, but we’re grateful for whatever help she can offer when she does come home,” said Sylvia, regarding her sympathetically. “I’ve no doubt you miss her even more than we do.”
“Every day,” said Gwen, pressing a hand to her chest. “It’s like a piece of my heart broke loose. There’s an ache where she used to be, and I can’t repair it.”
“She’ll be home soon,” said Gretchen. “She’ll always come back to you.”
“Yes, but never soon enough.”
“We’re here,” a sweet, light voice sang out from the kitchen doorway. Agnes Emberly took in the scene around the table with a smile, her blue eyes eager behind pink-tinted glasses. She was still bundled up in her pink knit scarf and heavy houndstooth winter coat, a pink stocking cap with a fluffy pom-pom atop her short, white curls. “Just let us get out of our wraps and we’ll join you.”
As she stepped out of the doorway, Diane Sonnenberg took her place. “First things first,” she said, pulling off her black leather gloves and tucking them into the pockets of her long, red wool coat. “Who’s responsible for this disaster?”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “That’s hardly the first thing on our agenda.”
“That is so like you, coddling criminals.” Diane removed her black beanie with one hand and fluffed her short, blond curls with the other. “It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. We just need the names of everyone who attended that committee meeting, and then we can investigate their backgrounds for a possible motive. We can probably eliminate Nancy and Melanie, since they were the ones to seek our help.” Frowning thoughtfully, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her coat and loosened her black-gray-and-red-tartan scarf. “Unless that’s part of the culprit’s cover—”
Gwen raised a hand, wincing. “Stop right there, Sherlock. What’s the point of finding someone to blame? How will that help us prepare for the Christmas Boutique?”
Diane shrugged out of her coat and draped it over her arm. “I guess it wouldn’t, but—”
“Then let’s not waste valuable time, dear,” said Agnes brightly, patting Diane on the arm as she passed her in the doorway and seated herself at the table next to Gretchen. “It was an honest mistake, not a criminal conspiracy to bring down the county food bank. Whoever did turn off the heat that day, I’m sure she or he already feels terrible enough without needing any additional persecution from us. Go on, put away your coat and sit down.”
“Am I the only one who’s curious?” grumbled Diane, but she did as Agnes said.
Diane had barely taken her seat across from Gwen when they heard the back door open again, followed by the sound of voices, low and earnest. Anna was clearly not alone, but even before she and Jeremy entered the kitchen, Sarah guessed who her companion was. “Jeremy’s not an Elm Creek Quilter, but he offered to help,” said Anna as she approached them, rubbing her hands together for warmth and glancing hopefully around the table. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed, but perhaps that was just from the cold. “Is that all right?”
“Sure,” said Joe, waving them over. “Andrew and I aren’t Elm Creek Quilters either, and we’re on the roster.”
Anna smiled her thanks, darting a quick look at Gwen as she and Jeremy found places at the opposite end of the table from her.
“What did we miss?” asked Jeremy, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table.
“We were just saying that the first order of business is to find out who’s to blame,” said Diane.
“We were not just saying that,” said Gwen. “Sarah, I think you have the floor.”
Sarah began to rise, but one of the twins kicked her solidly in the ribs, so she thought better of it. “We’ve got a lot to do and not a lot of time,” she said, rubbing absently at the place where a tiny foot had connected with her rib cage. “I’ve broken down the preparation work into four major categories: setting up the market stalls in the ballroom, publicity, decorating the rooms of the manor that will be open to customers—”
“We’ve already done a considerable amount of decorating,” Sylvia remarked.
“Yes, but I think we should do more, especially in the ballroom and banquet hall,” said Sarah. “The fourth category is food service. Anna, we were all hoping you’d be willing to organize a buffet, or counter service meals if you prefer. Nancy has a list of volunteer cooks and bakers ready to prepare whatever you need. If you don’t need them, they’ll make items for the bake sale instead.”
“Of course I’m willing,” said Anna, surprised. “Do you really need to ask?”
“We would never presume that you’re available in the off-season,” said Sylvia. “Especially on such short notice.”
“In the future, feel free to presume. The answer will always be yes.” Looking around the table, Anna added, “Nancy’s volunteers can focus on the bake sale. If one or two of you can help out in the kitchen at peak serving time, I can take it from there.”
“I can help you,” said Jeremy. “I know my way around a kitchen and I can follow instructions fairly well.”
“Wonderful,” said Sarah, much relieved. “Remember to save your receipts for any ingredients or supplies you purchase, for the tax deduction.”
“You know,” Anna mused aloud, “when I worked at Waterford College, we often hosted banquets or
dinners for various fund-raisers. Sometimes local vendors provided food and supplies as in-kind donations. I could contact some of them and see if they’d be interested in supporting the boutique.”
Sarah nodded. “You should probably check with Nancy first, but that sounds like a great idea.”
“I’m on it.” Anna picked up her pen and began swiftly writing down menu ideas, or so it appeared from a distance.
“We’ll have new categories of duties on the days of the boutique, when we’ll focus on operational logistics rather than preparation, but for now, this is where we’ll get started.” Sarah looked around the table. “Any questions? Any volunteers? Anna has food service.”
“I’ll take publicity,” said Diane. “I have contacts in the local media and lots of email lists from the booster clubs at the high school and other boards and groups I volunteer for.”
“Sounds good.” Sarah noted it on her pad. “Diane will be our publicist.”
“Those shoppers will need to park their cars somewhere,” said Andrew. “Should we post signs on the forest road directing them to the lot out back?”
“The front entrance is so much grander,” said Diane. “It sets the proper tone. That’s why our quilt campers use the front entrance on registration day.”
“We valet park for the quilt campers on the first day,” Andrew reminded her. “They get out at the front door, and we take their cars around to the rear lot.”
“We’ll need the rear lot and the back door for our workers,” said Sarah. “Let’s direct customers to the circular drive and the front entrance. It does make a much better impression.”
Andrew shrugged and nodded, but he did not seem entirely convinced.
Agnes raised a hand. “May I be in charge of decorating? I don’t mean to brag, but I think I have a knack for it.” She glanced around the table. “I think it’s a two-person job, though. Anyone else for the decorating committee?”
“Sign me up,” said Gretchen, smiling. “I had so much fun decking the halls of Elm Creek Manor yesterday. I’d enjoy doing more.”
“That leaves setting up the ballroom,” said Gwen. “I’ll take charge of that. Sylvia, would you join me, since you’re the most familiar with the Christmas Boutique?”
“I’d be delighted.” Sylvia gestured to the diagram of the ballroom Sarah had sketched earlier. “Sarah, dear, would you mind passing that to Gwen?”
Sarah slid the page down the table, and Gwen studied it thoughtfully.
“Joe and I can join the setup squad,” said Andrew. “We can move the partitions, store the quilt camp equipment safely out of the way, and build just about whatever you might need.”
“Thank you both,” said Sarah, making a few more notes before pushing herself to her feet. “Now that we all have our assignments, should we study the venue?”
Together they crossed the back hallway and began their tour in the banquet hall. The moment they entered, a glittering patch of silver in the far corner of the room caught every eye.
“What on earth?” Sylvia exclaimed. “How did that eyesore get down here?”
“I set it up,” said Sarah, abashed, but struggling to keep from smiling. “We’ve put up the Evergleam every year. You said we could.”
“I said if you could bear the sight of it, you were welcome to it, as long as you kept it out of my sight. You always put it in your own suite before.”
“Is that an aluminum Christmas tree?” asked Joe. “I haven’t seen one of those since the seventies.”
“I’m afraid so,” said Sylvia. “It should have been recycled ages ago.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” said Diane, glancing around the elegant room, “but it doesn’t really go with your décor, not to mention the architecture.”
“That’s what makes it so perfect,” said Sarah.
“Oh, hush, dear,” said Sylvia, gazing up at the heavens. “That metal monstrosity belonged to Claudia. The rest of my family had much better taste.”
“Don’t judge your sister too harshly,” Sarah protested. “Not for this, anyway. These trees were once the height of holiday fashion. My grandmother had one, and this one brings back fond memories. Everyone, check this out. You haven’t seen the best part.”
“Please, not the light show,” said Sylvia.
Pretending not to hear, Sarah hurried across the room as fast as her ample tummy allowed. With some difficulty, she knelt beside the tree next to a well-worn device that resembled an electric fan, but where the blades should have been was a plastic disk about the size of a dinner plate divided into red, blue, green, and yellow quarters. Sarah flipped a switch on the base, a light bulb illuminated, and suddenly the aluminum tree was awash in projected color, first red, then blue, green, and yellow as the disk slowly revolved. “Isn’t it fantastic?” she gushed.
“It’s certainly something,” said Gretchen, smothering a laugh.
Sylvia shook her head, amused but exasperated. “Enjoy it while you can, but be sure to dismantle it before the boutique.”
“Sorry, Sylvia,” Sarah replied, all innocence. “We don’t have enough time.”
“Then at least throw a quilt over it.”
Sarah smiled but made no promises.
At Sylvia’s prompting, Anna described where she preferred to set up the buffet table—in the center of the room rather than near the windows, as was the custom during quilt camp—with the dining tables arranged all around.
“The setup squad can help with that too,” said Joe.
“As will the decorating delegation,” said Gretchen, glancing to Agnes, who nodded. “That falls partly under our jurisdiction, I think.”
“Very good,” said Sylvia. “Shall we move on to the ballroom?”
“Speaking of decorations,” said Jeremy as they crossed the room, indicating the Evergleam tree glistening in the corner, “I’m with Sarah. That is amazing.”
“It’s certainly breathtaking,” said Sylvia dryly, opening the double doors to the ballroom. “Like a bad scare.”
“Come on,” Sarah protested. “It’s really not that bad.”
Sylvia cast her gaze to the heavens and Andrew turned a laugh into a cough. Jeremy shrugged, his bewildered expression clearly conveying that he shared Sarah’s appreciation for antique kitsch. “Wait until you see it at night, when the room is darkened and the color wheel shines,” she murmured as they all followed Sylvia into the ballroom, and his face brightened in anticipation.
The group had much more to discuss in the ballroom, which in a matter of days they must transform into an appealing, well-organized, smoothly flowing shopping plaza. Andrew offered several excellent ideas for how to use the classroom partitions to break up the space, while Gwen and Sylvia studied Sarah’s sketch and debated how to organize the various items for sale, whether to group similar items together on different tables along the same aisle, or to distribute them evenly throughout the boutique to encourage shoppers to explore. Diane and Anna took seats in one of the classroom spaces and brainstormed, first gathering ideas for publicity, and then for the buffet. Gretchen and Agnes wandered the room together, gazing up at the walls, studying the scene from the dais at the far end, talking animatedly, nodding often.
Sarah too strolled through the ballroom, checking in with her friends, asking questions, offering suggestions, making notes. When Andrew and Joe asked if they should begin putting away the sewing machines and other quilt camp materials, she thanked them and told them to go right ahead. When Gwen and Sylvia presented their additions to her sketch indicating how they thought the boutique items should be organized, she proposed a few changes to improve traffic flow but otherwise agreed with their plan.
Then Gretchen and Agnes approached the edge of the dais, their faces bright with expectation. “Could everyone gather around, please?” Gretchen called. “Agnes had a wonderful idea for decorating the ballroom.”
“I believe we thought of it together, dear.”
“No, Agnes, you get the cred
it. It was your idea; I merely agreed with you.”
“That’s all well and good if they like it,” said Agnes, looking a bit unsettled. “Not so much if they don’t.”
Curious, Sarah joined the others in front of the dais, wondering if she dared hope Agnes wanted to extend the Evergleam theme to the ballroom. Probably not, she thought regretfully. The aluminum trees seemed to be an acquired taste, one that most of her friends did not share.
“Considering that Elm Creek Manor is the home of Elm Creek Quilt Camp, Agnes thought it would be fitting for us to decorate the ballroom with quilts in holiday patterns and colors,” said Gretchen, regarding them expectantly. “I think it’s an excellent idea.”
“The Christmas Quilt looks so lovely hanging in the foyer,” Agnes chimed in. “Why not create an even larger display in the ballroom? It would add such marvelous holiday cheer to the Christmas Boutique, and show our visitors who we are and what we do here.”
“We don’t have time to make enough Christmasy, holiday-ish quilts to decorate the entire ballroom by Friday,” said Diane.
“I’m not proposing we make new quilts, dear,” said Agnes. “Let’s simply bring out our favorites from our own collections. It doesn’t matter if they’re not in pristine condition. That just means they’ve been well used and well loved.”
“Hang them high enough, and it’s likely no one will notice a faded patch or a loose thread here or there,” Andrew remarked.
“Exactly,” said Agnes, beaming at her old friend. “I have an antique appliqué quilt that would be just perfect for the wall near the Christmas tree. I’m sure if we all bring a few, we’ll have more than enough for the ballroom, and possibly enough to spare for the banquet hall too. Diane, what about that adorable Snowball quilt you made for Michael when he was in high school? Or the red-and-white quilt you were working on for your parents a few years back, or was it for Tim, for Valentine’s Day?”
Diane hesitated. “I couldn’t get a quilt back from my parents in time, and I can’t imagine any quilt Michael has had with him in his college apartment would be suitable for display, even if Andrew hung it from the rafters.”
The Christmas Boutique Page 13
