Chapter 8
The next morning, after checking the production schedule to confirm that Ellen would be spending most of the day toiling in
the writer’s room, Julia drove to the studio and gracefully ambushed her friend in the hallway when the team broke for lunch.
“Hey, Julia,” Ellen greeted her, surprised. “What brings you in today? If you’re here to help us fill in some plot holes,
you’re right on time.”
“Thanks, but for the sake of the show, I’m going to give that a hard pass. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind joining me in the commissary.”
“As long as you don’t expect me to eat there.”
“It’s not that bad,” Ellen said as they headed down the hallway. It was, actually, but Julia let it go in favor of her elevator pitch for
Elm Creek Quilt Camp. Ellen listened thoughtfully as they crossed the sunny back lot, entered the cafeteria, and moved through
the line, Ellen selecting a salad, bran muffin, and diet ginger ale, Julia taking only a sparkling water. Julia omitted all
references to her ulterior motives and the quilt camp’s financial struggles. Summer was in enough trouble with Sylvia already
without Julia spreading the company’s confidential information any further.
“The training would be useful,” Ellen mused as they found a table near a sunny window with a view of a cactus and bromeliad garden.
“Some of our actors allow their skills to languish between seasons. Their quilting isn’t as precise or fluid as it would have been for women of that era who quilted often. ”
“And some of our actors have never learned to quilt,” Julia reminded her.
“We’d have more flexibility with our camera angles if all of the women could quilt well, especially during our scenes around
the quilt frame.” Then she shook her head. “I agree it’s a great idea, but is a retreat like this in the production budget?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”
“Out of your own pocket? Julia—”
“I said, don’t worry about it,” Julia said, laughing lightly. “I’m an executive producer. Securing funding is in my job description.
As far as I’m concerned, anything that improves the quality and historical accuracy of the series is money well spent.”
“Careful you don’t say that too close to the writers’ room or everyone will ask for a raise.” Ellen glanced at her watch,
gave a little start, and quickly dug into her salad. “Yes, I think you should do it. It’s wonderful that the Elm Creek Quilters
are willing to put on a special session just for you.”
“You mean for us. You’re coming along. When I said cast and crew, I was including our writers.”
“I don’t know, Julia,” said Ellen, wincing. “I tried to learn to quilt when I first read my great-grandmother’s diaries. I
barely mastered the running stitch, and my quilting stitches were appalling. They were huge, and no two were the same size.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad, but that was only your first quilt. You would’ve improved if you’d attempted another. Besides,
that was ages ago, and you didn’t have the Elm Creek Quilters as your teachers.”
“Well, no, I didn’t,” Ellen acknowledged.
“I admit your stories about Elm Creek Manor have intrigued me. How wonderful it must be to take a week each year to escape the daily grind and focus on your creativity and artistic expression in such a beautiful, historic setting. I’ve been just a tiny bit envious of you. ”
“Why envy me when you could join me? While the rest of us are quilting, you could wander off to some quiet, comfortable spot
and write. The library, maybe. Think of it—bookcases lining the walls, their shelves filled with enticing volumes, a fire
crackling on the hearth, autumn sunshine streaming through the tall windows, a cup of mulled cider steaming on the table beside
your pen and paper—”
“I write on my computer.”
“On the table beside your laptop, creative inspiration all around you,” Julia finished. “Just imagine how the experience would
enrich your writing. You could learn so much about quilt history and folklore from Sylvia even if you don’t sew a single stitch
all week.”
“It would be nice to have hours of uninterrupted time to work on the outline for season six.” Ellen grimaced. “I’m especially
concerned about the last episode. A series finale has to accomplish so much that it’s almost impossible to satisfy viewers.”
“You could run ideas past Sylvia and the other Elm Creek Quilters while you’re there. And just think about how much you could
accomplish with someone else preparing gourmet meals for you three times a day.”
“And cleaning up afterward.”
“Plus, you’ll have access to a vast library and an expert faculty ready and willing to advise you on all aspects of quilt
artistry and history.”
Suddenly Ellen drew in a breath, eyes widening. “Wait. That quilt you and your friends are making, your reproductions of that
antique sampler—”
“ ‘Harriet’s Journey’?”
“Yes, that’s it. Will the woman who researched that quilt and wrote the pattern book be there?”
“You mean Maggie Flynn. Yes, she’ll be there—in fact, she’s teaching the hand-piecing classes.”
“I’d love to talk to her about a quilt I want Sadie and Charity to collaborate on in season six, episode five.”
“Sadie and Charity, quilting together? But they’re practically sworn enemies.” Julia gave herself a little shake. Exploring
that intriguing tangent would have to wait. “I’m sure Maggie would be delighted to share her expertise.”
Nodding, Ellen picked up her fork and poked at her salad, but her thoughts were elsewhere. For a long moment, Julia let her
mull it over, sipping her sparkling water with feigned nonchalance and resisting the impulse to beg her to say yes.
Finally, Ellen spoke. “You said it’ll be during the second week of November?”
“That’s right.”
“I might have to move some things around on my calendar, but okay, I’m in.”
“Wonderful,” Julia exclaimed. “We’ll have a fabulous time. Please pass on the invitation to anyone else from the writers’
room who should join us.”
Ellen’s eyebrows rose. “You’re brave, but sure, I’ll invite them.”
“Excellent.” Julia leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Now, what’s this about Sadie and Charity collaborating
on a quilt?”
Ellen had only twenty minutes to spare, so she gave Julia a quick sketch of the narrative arcs she hoped to work into the
final season. Julia winced at the word “final,” but Ellen didn’t seem to notice.
Two days later, Julia was working on her Cock’s Comb block in anticipation of her weekly conference call with the Cross-Country
Quilters when her phone rang. She was going to let the answering machine take it when she glanced at the phone and saw that
it was Donna calling. Quickly she picked up. “Hi, Donna,” she greeted her. “I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes.”
“I wanted to speak with you privately before everyone else joined in.” Donna inhaled deeply. “So. You spoke to Lindsay a few
days ago about your series possibly ending.”
“I did,” Julia confirmed. “She was expecting it. Apparently I’m the only person who missed the meeting and neglected to read the email.”
“I’m sure Lindsay will be sorry to see the show end, but she never expected it to last forever. Elm Creek Quilts, on the other
hand—” Donna’s breath caught in her throat. “Lindsay said you told her it’s in financial trouble? That it might go bankrupt?”
Julia closed her eyes and muffled a groan. She should have anticipated that Lindsay would share the alarming news with her
mother. “Summer didn’t say anything about bankruptcy. It’s serious, but I don’t think it’s quite that dire yet.”
“ ‘Yet’?”
“It sounds like a short-term cash flow problem. Revenues are down—”
“Of course. It’s their offseason.”
“Exactly. What’s worse, they recently found out that they have to replace the entire roof of the manor.”
“Oh my goodness. That’s a lot of roof. And you think your actors’ quilting boot camp will bail them out?”
“Our fees will pay for the roof and then some. Trust me, I offered them far above the standard summer rate.”
“I should hope so. Oh, Julia, I can’t imagine what I’d do if Elm Creek Quilt Camp closed.”
“If my plan works, you won’t need to worry about that. Sarah and company are working on other revenue streams too.” Julia
told her about Elm Creek Orchards, which was surely just one of several plans the exceptional creative team at Elm Creek Manor
had in the works.
“I’m worried that won’t be enough,” Donna fretted. “Maybe we should start a fundraiser for them. A capital campaign.”
“I know your heart is in the right place, but tread carefully,” Julia warned.
“Sylvia won’t accept anything that looks like a handout, and she doesn’t want the world to know that Elm Creek Quilts is struggling.
She didn’t want Summer to tell me, and I really shouldn’t have told Lindsay.
It can’t go any further. If the Elm Creek Quilters decide to go public, that’s their choice, but it isn’t our story to tell. ”
“But I can tell the other Cross-Country Quilters, right?”
Julia didn’t suppose there was any way she could stop her. “Only if you swear them to secrecy.”
When their conference call began a few minutes later, the conversation quickly turned to the plight of Elm Creek Quilts, even
though, as they all readily admitted, they had more concerns and speculation than actual facts. They all wanted to do something
to help, but they agreed that it would be unwise to launch a fundraiser without Sylvia’s blessing. And they couldn’t secure
that without confessing that Julia had shared with her friends confidential information Summer shouldn’t have disclosed in
the first place. By the time they wrapped up their weekly call, one truth was abundantly clear: Julia’s actors’ quilting boot
camp absolutely must be a rousing success. If this first effort to expand quilt camp failed, Sylvia might not be willing to
risk another bold move to raise funds, regardless of the need.