Chapter 6 #2
hands on their hips, panting slightly from exertion as if they had run the entire ascent. “Yes,” she replied guardedly, moving
the phone only slightly away from her ear.
“I knew it was you. I’m a huge fan. I love A Patchwork Life,” the woman on the left gushed. “I mean, I loved Family Tree too, but Patchwork—” She paced a hand on her heart and shook her head, eyes shining. “It really speaks to me.”
“Thank you,” said Julia, more warmly than before. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“Is Nigel Crawford as handsome in person as he is on TV?” the woman on the right asked, her eyes alight with eagerness.
Julia lowered her voice confidentially. “More.”
The two women fairly squealed. “I knew it,” the woman on the right exclaimed.
“Julia?” Summer asked, her voice faint.
Quickly Julia returned the phone to her ear. “Sorry, I’m still here.”
“Could I ask just one more question?” the woman on the left begged. “When are Sadie and Ben going to get together?”
“Are you trying to get me in trouble?” Julia protested, smiling as she lowered her phone again. “Even if I knew, I couldn’t
tell you.”
“But they are going to get together?”
“That’s two questions, and you know I can’t answer either one of them.”
The two women groaned comically.
“Um, should I call you back later?” Summer asked.
“Can I ask a question too?” the woman on the right asked, drawing closer.
Julia raised her phone again. “Sorry, Summer. One more minute.” To the eager fan, she replied, “I’m so sorry, but as you see,
I’m on a call—”
“Oh, this’ll be quick. What did Noah McCleod mean at the Emmys when he said that thing about his college applications? He’s
not leaving the show, is he?”
“Wait, what?” the other woman asked sharply, turning and grabbing her friend’s arm. “I didn’t watch. What did he say?”
“He said he was going to mention his Emmy on his college applications,” the other woman explained, then turned back to Julia.
“What did he mean? Is he leaving the show? Is it going to be canceled?”
“It can’t be canceled,” her friend wailed. “Sadie and Ben haven’t gotten married yet.”
“But Sunday night at the Emmys—”
“The show hasn’t been canceled,” Julia broke in hastily. “Our head writer is already working on scripts for our sixth season.
Patchwork hasn’t been canceled. I swear.”
The woman on the left heaved a sigh, relieved, but her friend looked skeptical. “Then what was Noah talking about?”
“Well—” Julia shrugged and forced a smile. “Maybe it was a joke. Maybe he’s thinking about going to college when we’re on
hiatus. I really wouldn’t make anything of it.”
The women exchanged a look. “I guess the show could continue without him,” the woman on the left said, her expression doubtful.
“You could, like, have Jesse go to college too, and maybe appear in a few episodes now and then.”
“Sure, that could work,” said Julia, smiling agreeably and backing away as she raised the phone to her ear. “That would be
up to our writers, of course. It was lovely meeting you both, and thanks for supporting the show, but—”
“Oh, sure. Sorry to interrupt,” the woman on the right said, and her friend quickly chimed in with thanks and apologies. As
they hurried off down the trail, Julia turned back to face the ocean view again, but not before she heard one of the women
tell her friend, “I can’t wait to post about this on my blog!”
Julia felt a pang of misgivings. With any luck, the woman only had a dozen readers, all of them family members and neighbors.
Quickly she pressed the phone to her ear. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No worries,” Summer assured her. “Does that happen a lot?”
“Yes, but I’d rather be ambushed by true fans than by the paparazzi. Where were we?”
“You explained what sort of camp experience you needed, and I think you were about to ask what our next step should be. I
think it’s a fantastic idea, and I’m confident we can provide what you need, so at this point I’d like to bring Sarah into
the conversation.”
“Not Sylvia?”
“No, not yet. Sarah is the camp director, so she’d be responsible for organizing your session.
And if you can persuade her that it’s worth doing, then she can help you convince Sylvia.
Not that I expect Sylvia to object. Sarah has proposed expanding our quilt camp season into autumn before, but Sylvia has been skeptical that there would be enough interest to justify the effort.
A special session for your cast and crew could be just the test we need. ”
Summer said she would recap their discussion in an email, and include Sarah in the recipients. “Everyone at the manor is preoccupied
with the launch of Elm Creek Orchards on Saturday,” she added, “but I’ll be sure to emphasize that time is of the essence.”
By the time Julia finished her hike and drove home, Summer’s promised email had already landed in her inbox. She had summarized
the plan more eloquently than Julia remembered proposing it, for which Julia self-deprecatingly thanked her in her reply.
Sarah replied with a few cautious questions, and in an intermittent back-and-forth over the next twenty-four hours, Sarah
and Summer confirmed that they would have the faculty and staff available to host a week of quilt camp for about a dozen of
Julia’s colleagues in late October or early November. But before they drew up a contract, they asked Julia to join them in
a conference call to work out a few essential details.
“Speaking for myself, I’d be absolutely thrilled to welcome you and your friends to Elm Creek Manor to refresh your quilting
skills,” Sarah assured Julia when they spoke on Wednesday afternoon.
“And for the newbies to learn the basics,” Summer chimed in. “If I weren’t busy with library school, I’d teach you all myself.
It would be so exciting to play a behind-the-scenes role in A Patchwork Life.”
“I think some of the other Elm Creek Quilters would insist upon teaching at least a few classes,” said Sarah. “We have to
share the fun.”
“Does this mean we have a deal?” asked Julia. “Shall we discuss dates and fees?”
“Well, actually . . .” Sarah hesitated. “Before we proceed, I’d like to have Sylvia’s approval. I may be the director of Elm
Creek Quilts, but the manor is her home. I wouldn’t want to launch something of this scale without her blessing.”
“I understand, of course,” said Julia, but something in Sarah’s tone made her wary. “Do you think she’s likely to approve?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. In the past, when I’ve suggested expanding our camp season into the fall, she’s been . . . reluctant. But things are different now. Given our financial issues, she might welcome the chance to try something new.”
“I think she would,” said Summer. “After all, it took her a while to warm up to the idea of launching Elm Creek Orchards,
but now she’s all in.”
“That’s reassuring,” said Julia, though it wasn’t entirely so.
“I think it would be best if the proposal came from you, Julia,” said Summer. “Your interest in helping your colleagues perform
at their best will make a very good impression on her, and she’ll definitely appreciate your concern for historical and artistic
authenticity.”
“Sylvia prefers phone calls to email, but please hold off until after we launch Elm Creek Orchards,” said Sarah. “We still
have so much to do to prepare, and we’re racing at top speed to finish in time for our grand opening Saturday morning.”
“Certainly.” Julia didn’t want to appear impatient, but she couldn’t resist asking, “Would Saturday evening be too soon?”
Sarah laughed. “I think Saturday evening would be fine.”
They ended the call with promises to talk again soon. Julia had nothing to do but wait until Saturday evening when she could
call Sylvia. Then again, evening in Pennsylvania was really only late afternoon in California—which was the sort of calculation
only an impatient person would make.
The Cross-Country Quilters’ latest block in their Harriet’s Journey challenge provided a timely distraction.
That week’s assignment was called City of Spindles, a reference to the mill town of Lowell, Massachusetts, where Harriet had once lived and worked.
Although it was a strikingly pretty block, with four narrow rectangles along the diagonals, four on-point squares between them and one more in the center, and an isosceles right triangle along each side pointing toward the edge, Julia realized early on that it would not be one of her favorites.
The foundation paper pieced pattern allowed for sharp points and accurate seams, which Megan and Donna loved, but Julia disliked removing all the paper from the back of the block afterward.
No matter how carefully she would peel off the pieces, even resorting to tweezers for especially stubborn scraps, she inevitably would rip open seams that would then need to be resewn.
“Just make your own pattern from the illustration and sew it by hand, then,” Vinnie encouraged her whenever she grumbled about the technique, but Julia wasn’t a fan of making her own templates and patterns either.
Still, with the same discipline she applied to memorizing lines, Julia persisted, and by Thursday afternoon she had completed
the five foundation sections and would need only to sew them together to finish her City of Spindles block. She was looking
forward to announcing her progress when the Cross-Country Quilters met for their weekly telephone conference call, but just
as she was about to dial in on her landline from her sewing room, Nigel called her cell phone.
“You better not be calling to cancel,” she teased, then held her breath, anxious for his reply. She hadn’t reminded him it
was her birthday, and she assumed he had forgotten, but she was counting on their dinner-and-a-show for her celebration, even
if she was the only one who knew.
“I never would,” he said, scandalized by the very idea. “I merely wanted to ask if I might bring a friend or two along. They’re
great fans of the show and they’d adore spending time with you.”