Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
C ora took the back way to the fabric store. She drove silently as her mind repeated the previous nights over and over in her head. Her life had completely fallen apart within minutes.
As she pulled into the parking lot, she double-checked the directions. The fabric store sat in an old red-brick mill building with large windows and a long rectangular structure. A small river ran alongside it, following over a small dam. A sign with white paint had LeCroix Fabrics stenciled in, but the store didn’t look like a fabric shop; it was more like a mill.
What was she doing there? She didn’t have money to buy anything. Sitting in her car, she held the material in her hands. She had to find out if the piece of material was still made. Grabbing the receipt, she got out of her car and walked to the store.
When she opened the door to the store, she was overwhelmed by the smell of stale air and dust. As she walked into the space, she expected to see a setup like other fabric stores, with fabrics lined together on display, but instead, she was confronted by large loom machines and one very antique machine she’d seen in the history book of old mills in the past.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice called out, but Cora couldn’t see where it was coming from.
“Hello?” Cora replied. “Are you open?”
“I’m here!” Whoever spoke was across the room. “Hold your horses.”
Coming around the old loom was a middle-aged woman out of breath.
“What can I help you with?” the woman said, confused by Cora’s presence. “Do we have a meeting?”
“Um, I thought you were a fabric store?” Cora said, looking down at the receipt and the name on the door. “Is this LeCroix Fabrics?”
“Yes,” the woman said, looking at her like she had two heads.
Cora held up the receipt. “I found some fabric in my grandmother’s house, which came with this receipt. I wondered if you still carry this?”
She opened up her bag and handed over the piece of cloth.
The woman put on a pair of readers and squinted at the receipt. A smile broke across her face. “That’s my father’s writing.”
Cora looked at the slip of paper again and handed it over to the woman. “I found it among a bunch of material my grandmother must’ve bought from here.”
The woman shook her head. “We don’t carry fabrics or material like that anymore. We make material for bedspreads, blankets, coverlets, and other similar items. It’s been years since my father sold fabrics like that.”
Cora pulled out the material from her bag. “Do you make this kind of material for your bedspreads?”
A wide smile broke across the woman’s face. She took the material and held it up, letting it open to its full size. It was a beautiful piece of fabric you wouldn’t find in a regular fabric chain store. This was special. Cora could tell the woman thought so, too.
“Your grandmother just had this lying around?” the woman asked. “It’s got to be at least fifty years old.”
Cora nodded. “At least.”
“Wow,” the woman said, looking at the receipt.
“So, the fabrics you make here aren’t like this?” Cora asked, feeling all her excitement wash away.
“Not in fifty years.” The woman held on to the fabric and then passed it back to Cora.
“You can have it,” Cora said. It’s your father’s material.”
The woman smiled. “No, no, I kept plenty of my own, but thanks.”
“Do you know where I could find linen like this?” Cora crossed her fingers behind her purse.
The woman shook her head. “Shame, I don’t.”
“Well, thanks for your help,” Cora said, wishing the woman would think harder. Maybe she could look into their records to find when they made it and who supplied the linen threading.
“Sure thing,” the woman said.
As Cora turned to leave, she looked at the antiquated loom sitting unused. “Do you still use this machine?”
The woman shook her head. “We don’t use this old-timer anymore. Most of the fabrics are done out back in our new space.”
“Do you have a showroom of your products?” Cora asked, looking around.
The woman clicked her tongue. “Most of our business is done online or through returning customers. Our clients are hotels, hospitals, nursing homes, and places like that. They ordered large quantities.”
“Oh,” Cora said, a bit disappointed. She looked at the machine, wishing to get more of the material. She could envision patterns of mermaids just like her grandfather’s, scalloped shells, whales’ tails, starfish, and seagrasses. Patterns that she hadn’t even thought about doing now flooded her mind. “Blueberries.”
“What?” the woman said.
“I’d love to use the fabric to print my designs on it,” Cora said. I just love the texture and feel. And it’s so durable—not like the material today.”
“Hmm, I wish my father could see how good his material held up.” The woman reached out her hand and rubbed the material again. “You want to make designs with the material?”
“Yes.” The excitement began to burn inside Cora’s stomach slowly, and she decided right then and there that was what she wanted to do. She would make the perfect design for this perfect piece of fabric. “How can I find more of this material?”
The woman puffed out her cheeks and shook her head. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to find anything like that around here anymore. Most of the mills closed down. And unfortunately, we don’t carry the kind of threading you want. It would be a lot of money for mass production.”
“Right…” Cora’s disappointment plunged to her toes. Then she looked at the employee’s schedule hanging on a bulletin board. “Do you ever have openings to work here?”
“Why? Are you looking?” The woman removed her glasses. “My name is Bonnie, and this is my family’s shop. My brother thinks he’s in charge of running things, but I just let him think that, but”—she looked around the room—“it’s mostly me.”’
Cora smiled. “I used to work with a textile designer named Madame Dubois in Boston.”
“Ah, one of those fancy, boutique-y fabric shop kind of things?” Bonnie asked.
Cora wouldn’t describe Madame’s high-end showroom as a fabric boutique, but from Bonnie’s point of view, it was. “Yes, I guess so.”
“Do you still work there?” Bonnie asked.
Cora shook her head. “I was just an intern.”
She’d leave out the fact that she was asked to leave.
“What brings you to Blueberry Bay?” Bonnie tilted her head, interested in what Cora had to say. Unlike Madame Dubois, who had treated Cora like a minion and mostly ignored her.
“I’m here visiting my mom,” Cora said. “But also looking for work. I’d love to learn the process you use here.”
Bonnie grimaced a bit. Did she look desperate to ask if they were hiring?
“I love fabric,” Cora said. “The process, the production, the final product, and everything in between. I love the sound of these machines and the smell of fibers heating up from being stretched and weaved. I love everything about textiles.”
Bonnie looked at Cora for what felt like forever. Then a smile grew across her face, instantly relieving Cora. “Well, you came to the right place.”
Bonnie didn’t have any positions to offer Cora, but the two instantly connected over their love of textiles and fibers.
“We don’t make money on the fancy stuff,” Bonnie said, showing Cora the floor of the mill where a dozen men and women oversaw the modern power looms. The machines weren’t as loud as the ones back in the day, where workers would become deaf from the noise, but it did create a cacophony for the untrained ear, but not for Cora. She loved the rhythmic sound of the baseboard pounding another thread into place. The ancient practice of weaving was still deeply connected, even with modern machines.
It didn’t take long to figure out that Bonnie was the one in charge of the small mill situated along the river. She showed Cora the process from the beginning of production to the final product.
“You have an incredible place here,” Cora said, wishing so badly there was a position at the mill. She’d be able to learn the whole process from beginning to end. “You ever hire interns?”
Bonnie gave her a side-eye. “You want to intern here after working for Madame Dubois?”
Cora nodded, hoping Bonnie would agree. She could stay in Blueberry Bay and figure things out until the wedding. “My sister’s getting married in a few months. I could stay until then. I’d love to help in any way that I can. I’m a really hard worker.”
Bonnie rubbed her chin. “Believe me. I’d love to have someone who loves this industry as much as you do, but I can’t have you work for free.”
“I’ll learn so much.” Cora didn’t care about compensation at this point, with all the learning she’d get from working there. “At Madame Dubois, she didn’t use the whole process for her fabrics on-site.”
Bonnie folded her arms as she thought about it.
“I’d be a fool to say no to free labor.” Bonnie looked around the floor of the mill. “What about this? What if I allow you to use the old machine here?” She pointed toward the machine that Cora had seen when she’d first walked in. “And I can help you make my dad’s material.”
“Really?” Cora couldn’t believe Bonnie would agree to help her out like that—a complete stranger. “I’d love that.”
Then it was set up. Cora would come next week. Bonnie would find out what she could about the fabric, and Cora would learn the whole process of creating beautiful fabric from beginning to end.
She drove back to her mom’s cottage on cloud nine. Sure, she wasn’t getting paid. And she’d have to find another job in the meantime to pay rent for an apartment that she wasn’t even staying at, but it’d all be worth it.
When she walked in the door, she announced her plan. “I’m staying in Blueberry Bay!”
“What?” Meredith said, turning around on the couch. She and Quinn were reading together in the living room.
“I’m going to work at LeCroix Fabrics,” she said, bouncing into the room and dropping into a chair.
“You got a job?” Meredith smiled at this. “That’s great news!”
“Well, it's not exactly a job, but she’s letting me come and learn the process,” Cora explained, as she noticed her mother’s smile starting to disappear.
Quinn put his book on the coffee table. “Bonnie’s wonderful. She’s kept that place going even after all the other mills around here left or shut down.”
“What about your job in Boston?” Meredith asked, her voice rising like it did when she was trying to stay calm, but clearly wasn’t. “And your apartment?”
Cora looked at Quinn, embarrassed that her mother was talking to her like a child. “I thought I could stay here while I figured things out.”
Meredith closed her eyes for a second before saying, “Cora, you can’t keep going from one thing to another.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, unable to believe her mother. “You sound like Dad.”
Meredith immediately frowned. “All I’m saying is you need to start thinking about a career instead of jumping around all the time. You left Madame Dubois without a plan.”
She almost spilled about Julian but somehow managed to keep her mouth shut as her mother continued on about how Cora shouldn’t have left without references.
“Then you offered to work for free at a mill? I thought you wanted to design fabric.” Meredith set her book down and shifted her whole body to Cora. “How are you going to pay your bills? Have you even told the restaurant? The one steady paying job you’ve had in a while.”
“Why are you being like this?” Cora didn’t understand what triggered her mother’s sudden problem with her lifestyle. “You’re the one who’s always like, follow your dreams, Cora. Don’t waste time doing something your heart isn’t into. You always said you regretted not going after your own dreams of becoming a pianist.”
Quinn looked completely out of place.
“Sorry, Quinn. My mother shouldn’t be talking about our family problems in front of you.” Cora folded her arms against her chest.
“He’s part of this family,” Meredith said.
And Cora felt a sudden shift in the room. One she hadn’t noticed before.
“We might not be related by law or by blood, but Quinn and Ginny and Kyle are a part of this family, and they’re going to hear us argue sometimes because that’s what family does.” Meredith stood and walked to Cora, who now felt defensive. “I’m sorry, Cora, but sometimes you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“You didn’t even hear what I had to say,” Cora pointed out. “I had a plan.”
But she didn’t. Now, she saw her mother’s point terribly clear. She had offered to work at a mill for free. What was she thinking?
“I want to learn as much as I can,” she said, defeated.
“I think you’d learn a lot from Bonnie,” Quinn piped in.
Cora smiled at him for trying, but even now, she could see how stupid it all sounded.
“What do you want, Cora?” Meredith asked, and when Cora didn’t answer, she continued. “That’s what I want you to figure out. Stay here if that’s what you need, but you’ll never find what you’re looking for until you start figuring out what you’re chasing.”