Frayed Edges

by Carol Dean Jones

  “And?”

  “And the son said that after her discharge, his mother would be going home with him permanently. His wife is allergic to cats, and he asked if we might know someone who could take him.”

  “And you said?”

  “I said I certainly did know of a very nice lady who was hoping she could keep the little tyke. So if you want to talk about names now …”

  “Look at them,” she exclaimed, pointing to the dog bed. “See how he’s all tucked under Barney’s arm?”

  “Yes?” Charles responded, not sure where this was going.

  “How about Tucker?”

  “Tucker,” he repeated. “I like it. We could even call him Tux for short since he’s wearing a tuxedo.”

  “We’ll see,” she responded with a look that clearly said she wasn’t sure about the nickname.

  * * * * *

  The phone was answered with “Burgess residence.”

  “How incredibly formal,” Sarah responded, and Caitlyn giggled.

  “I knew it was you,” the young girl said excitedly. “We’ve had such a great time, Aunt Sarah. I wish you’d been here. Papa and I went shopping when he first got here, and I helped him find gifts for Aunt Maddie. He got her a beautiful bed jacket. I’m not sure it was the right thing to get because she said, ‘People still wear these?’ when she opened it, but she’s had it on every night when I go in to say goodnight.”

  The girl chattered on about her father’s visit and how the two strangers—her father and her aunt Maddie—were spending hours catching up on all the lost years. “Can I tell you a secret, Aunt Sarah?”

  “I suppose so,” Sarah responded, not really wanting to know something she shouldn’t, but still curious.

  “Papa has asked Aunt Maddie to come live with us, and she’s actually thinking about it!”

  “That would be nice, Caitlyn,” Sarah responded but wondered whether a move at this point in the woman’s life was a good idea. She’d been settled in Omaha for many years and had friends, her church, and her various volunteer activities. Sarah knew that sometimes it was a mistake to uproot an elderly person even if you think it’s for their own good. “Just make sure in the end that it’s your aunt Maddie’s decision and not your father’s. It might look like the right thing to do on the surface, but sometimes older people end up very unhappy when they leave everything they know.”

  “I’ve heard Aunt Maddie and Papa talking about that very thing. Aunt Maddie said she wants to give it some serious thought, and she wouldn’t consider doing it before next summer.”

  “That will give her plenty of time to think about it,” Sarah responded, relieved that they weren’t making any rash decisions. “So, what else have you been doing?”

  “Mostly eating!” Caitlyn responded with her usual delightful giggle. “I’ve gained five pounds since Papa came, but we’ve been eating out, and the food in Omaha is unbelievable. I used to think I’d like to be a vegetarian, but once I tasted these steaks, there’s no chance I’ll ever do that.”

  “And I assume your dad is having a good time, too?”

  “Here,” Caitlyn said. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Hi, Sarah. How’s everything back home?”

  “We miss you,” Sarah responded, “but it sounds like you’re having a great time.”

  The two friends talked about the time they each had spent with family and friends. Sarah told Andy about their trip to Phoenix and recounted a few Sophie tales that got him laughing. He particularly enjoyed the shoe episode at the airport.

  “What a character that woman is,” he responded. “But what would we do without her?”

  They talked for a while about the possibility of Maddie coming to live with them, and Sarah suggested they have her come for a visit first.

  “Great idea,” Andy responded. “Maybe I can get her to come back with me next week just to meet people and see what it’s like.”

  “Am I on speaker?” Sarah asked.

  “No, why?”

  “I didn’t know if you’d mentioned the missing quilts to your aunt, but I wanted to let you know that there’s been no news. The detective has been questioning Lonnie Dunkin, but they haven’t charged him. And the magazine article has resulted in a few calls, but nothing has panned out so far. I just wanted you to know. We can talk more about it when you come home.”

  “Caitlyn advised against bringing it up, and I’m glad she did. I wouldn’t want anything to cloud this holiday. It’s been just great!

  “I’ll let you know if Maddie’s coming back with me. Maybe you and Sophie can arrange a little get-together so she can meet my friends.”

  Chapter 31

  “Why is Boots growling?” Sarah called to Charles from the living room. He was in the kitchen making a second pot of coffee and feeding Barney.

  “I don’t know,” he responded before turning around. When he did, he realized little Tucker had managed to get onto the counter by the refrigerator and was stretched full length, trying to find a way to climb up the refrigerator. Boots, who had been eating on the top of the refrigerator, had retreated to the top of the cabinets and was looking down at the kitten, her eyes flashing with anger.

  “Oh, she’s growling because the kitten is trying to get her food,” Charles explained.

  “What? I’ve been feeding Boots on the refrigerator so they wouldn’t fight over the food. Did you take the bowl down?”

  “No, the food is still on top of the refrigerator. Tucker seems to think he can get up there.”

  By this time, Sarah had come into the kitchen and gasped. “Tucker!” she exclaimed. “Animals are not allowed on the kitchen counter! That’s where I prepare our food.” She lifted him off and placed him firmly on the floor.

  “Meow,” he objected.

  “Boots gets on the counter,” Charles pointed out, support-ing Tucker’s objection.

  “Her feet only touch it for a second on her way up to the top of the cabinets.”

  Charles reached for the kitten and cuddled him in his arms. “Poor little Tux,” he whispered affectionately. “You’ll be able to get yourself up there one of these days.”

  “And Boots will knock him right back down,” Sarah predicted. “That is pre-claimed territory up there.”

  “Poor little thing,” Charles repeated in the kitten’s ear, which twitched just before he leaped from Charles’ arms and landed back on the counter.

  Sarah sighed as the kitten again stretched up the side of the refrigerator and mewed pleadingly. Boots turned her back and headed for her corner.

  At that moment, the phone rang, and since Charles was closest, he answered it, despite the fact that he knew it was for Sarah. He could see Sophie’s name on the display.

  “Is she ready to go?” Sophie asked.

  “Yes,” Charles responded. “Excellent timing. Sarah and I were about to get into it over the house rules as they apply to the animal kingdom.”

  “Hi, Sophie,” Sarah said as she took the phone. “Would you come in the house when you come to pick me up? We have something to show you.”

  “From your husband’s comment, I’m guessing it has to do with an animal. Is Barney okay?”

  “Barney is better than he’s ever been. Just come on in. The door’s open.”

  Sarah hurried to her sewing room to pick up her supplies and her walker bag instructions. When Sophie arrived, Sarah was holding little Tucker in her arms.

  “Oh!” Sophie exclaimed, placing her hand on her heart as she often did when she was touched. “What an adorable little kitten. Where did you get him? Or her?”

  “He’s a boy. Tucker is his name because he sleeps tucked under Barney’s protective arm.”

  “No kidding? Barney lets him in his bed?”

  “He sure does. Tucker is actually another one of Barney’s discoveries.”

  “I remember when he found Bootsy. Where did he get this one?” Sophie asked.

  “Barney led us to him in the backyard when we g
ot home from Jason’s on Christmas Day. We found his owners and they didn’t want him, so he’s ours.”

  “Didn’t want him?” Sophie exclaimed, sounding both angry and surprised.

  “Actually, he wasn’t their cat. He belonged to their elderly mother who had a stroke and can’t take care of him. Her son is taking his mother back to Kentucky, but his wife is allergic to cats, so they can’t take Tucker.”

  “Well, that’s not a bad reason, I guess, especially since the cat has a good home now. Did they just toss him out?”

  “No, he snuck out when the paramedics were there. He was out in the cold for two nights and was delighted to get inside. He’s only five or six months old, and he probably had no idea how to survive. He was just lucky that Barney knew he was there and let us know.”

  Barney watched protectively from the sidelines as the three friends passed the kitten around. The moment Sophie put him on the floor, Barney ran over and poked him toward their bed, where they curled up for an early evening nap.

  “We’re late for quilt club,” Sophie suddenly announced. “Grab your coat and your fabric. I don’t want to miss the instructions.”

  * * * * *

  “It looks like everyone is here,” Ruth announced. “Sarah, do you want to lead the group with this project?”

  “Sure, but I’ve only read the instructions, and I haven’t tried making it, so we’ll be figuring it out together.”

  The group members pulled out their instructions and were reading them over when Frank announced, “If anyone wants to see a finished one, I brought mine.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a walker bag that looked like an antique from the Victorian era. His grandmother loved things from the turn of the century, and Ruth had been able to find a piece of reproduction fabric with large peach-colored roses on a dark brown background. She and Frank got together one evening after the shop closed and together they made the bag. They had used a solid brown for the lining since it would show behind the pockets when the bag was on the walker.

  “I love the way that dark brown sets off the peach roses,” Delores remarked. “Was it hard to make?”

  “No,” Frank answered. “Ruth did most of it, but I’m going to make another one tonight. Grandma has a good friend named Margaret. She’s even older than my grandma, and that’s pretty old!” Everyone chuckled. No one had met Frank’s grandmother, but they had heard many stories about what Frank called her “old-timey ways.”

  “So, you want to make one for Margaret?”

  “I’m going to try,” he responded proudly as he pulled out a piece of multicolored floral and a green that closely matched the leaves in the fabric.

  “I love your fabric,” Sarah commented.

  “Ruth helped me pick it out,” he said, smiling in Ruth’s direction.

  The group began measuring, cutting, sewing, pressing, turning, and topstitching, and in no time, everyone had a long finished piece that looked very much like a table runner.

  “Now all we do is fold these ends back and stitch them to form the pockets. Look at your patterns, and you’ll see how to do this step.”

  “What’s the Velcro for?” Allison asked.

  “It goes on the back and keeps the bag from slipping off the walker,” Sarah said as she brought the sample bag over and showed her how it held the bag in place.

  “My friend, Paula, made a walker bag for her grandmother,” Becky said. “She put ties on the sides to hold it on, and it looked really pretty.”

  “Clever idea,” Sarah responded.

  “I think I want to put ties on mine,” Frank announced. “Would you show me how?”

  Ruth went around the corner into the main shop and got a roll of ribbon that matched Frank’s fabric, and Becky helped him attached it to the bag.

  By the end of the meeting, everyone had a completed walker bag, and they discussed whether to make more as a charity project. “How many people plan to keep the one they made tonight?”

  Almost everyone raised their hand.

  “I need one myself,” Mabel said. “I still use my walker when I go shopping.”

  “I want to give mine to our neighbor,” Kimberly said. “Don’t you think?” she added, turning to her sister, Christina, who nodded her agreement.

  “But I could contribute mine,” Christina offered.

  “I don’t really need one,” Sarah said, “but it’s so cute. I’d like to keep it ‘just in case.’ ” She chuckled.

  “Me, too,” Sophie said, “but I wouldn’t mind making more. Why don’t we have one more night like this, and we’d have at least a dozen to donate somewhere.”

  Everyone agreed, and several people said they were going to make one or two at home as well. Over cake and coffee, they discussed where to donate the walker bags but decided to wait until they were all made before making a final decision.

  “Now that was a great meeting,” Sophie said as the two friends walked to Sophie’s car, hanging onto each other in an attempt to avoid slipping on the ice that had formed while they were in their meeting.

  “I’m worried about you getting into your house after you take me home. Should we call Charles and have him meet us at your house?”

  “No problem,” Sophie declared confidently. She pushed a button on her dashboard, and Norman immediately answered. “I’ll be home in ten minutes,” she announced.

  “I’ll be at the curb,” he responded.

  The look on her friend’s face was priceless. She’s in love, Sarah thought affectionately.

  Chapter 32

  Weeks passed with no success in locating even one quilt. There were several calls from people who had read the various articles, but most were simply expressing their regrets. They were mostly quilters who understood the impact of losing family quilts.

  The Quilters’ News Quarterly received numerous contacts like the one from Josie Braxton in Texas. The individuals had seen similar quilts, but they all turned out to be false leads but made in good faith.

  “There are so many quilts out there that look similar to the untrained eye,” Ruth said at their next meeting. “It’s no wonder they get so many false leads. I just find it strange that not one single quilt has been located.”

  “Well, we did find the seven in Hamilton, thanks to Sarah and Sophie,” Allison said. “At least I assume we’ll get them back eventually, once they finish the Hamilton investigation.”

  “Isn’t it strange that those seven showed up so close to home?” Kimberly commented. “It really makes you wonder where the others are. Are they nearby as well and just haven’t been discovered?”

  “I think the fact that the seven were found means it’s likely that the rest will turn up. At least I like to think that,” Delores added.

  When asked, Detective Halifax admitted that no real effort was being expended by Middleton PD to locate the quilts and that there wasn’t enough evidence to arrest Lonnie Dunkin. “So where do we stand?” Charles had asked.

  “If anything comes up, we’ll follow through, but we aren’t initiating anything at this time. You know, we’ve had that string of assaults on homeless men over on the south side, and that’s taking priority. Why these men choose to sleep on the street in this weather instead of using the shelters is beyond me.”

  “Sarah says it’s because many of these homeless people are schizophrenic and paranoid. They are afraid of the crowded conditions and fearful that something bad will happen to them. Then others have had their meager belongings stolen in shelters, particularly their shoes. I guess some fear the shelters more than they fear freezing on the street.”

  “Or getting beaten to death by this sick monster that’s out there right now,” the detective responded.

  * * * * *

  “Are you up for a little weekend trip?” Charles asked, looking sheepish.

  “What do you have in mind?” Sarah asked, remembering that he had promised a getaway after the holidays.

  “Well, I was looking at this advertisement for hotel sp
ecials in downtown Chicago, and I thought we could drive up on Friday and spend a couple of nights. We could get some of that famous Chicago food and do some sightseeing.”

  “I didn’t realize Chicago was famous for its food,” she responded.

  “You didn’t know that Chicago is sometimes referred to as the ‘gourmet dining epicenter’?”

  “The epicenter, huh?” Sarah responded. “No, I didn’t know that. And what foods make them so famous?”

  Charles looked away as he often did when he was teasing her. “Well, there’s deep-dish pizza and Chicago-style hot dogs, not to mention their incredible donuts.”

  “And we’re going to drive three hours for hot dogs and pizza?”

  “Well, first of all, I don’t think you’re picturing Chicago-style hot dogs. They are smothered in mustard, onions, tomatoes, and peppers, and they’re topped with a dill pickle spear.”

  Sarah didn’t look particularly impressed.

  “But that’s not really why I want to go. First of all, I found a special on a two-night stay in the Towers. We can get a luxury room overlooking the lake, and their restaurant is known for its jibaritos.”

  “And just what is a jibarito?” Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “It’s a sandwich served primarily in Chicago’s Puerto Rican community, but their chef brought it to the Towers.”

  “So, we’re going for a sandwich?”

  “It’s not like any sandwich you can imagine. First of all, there’s no bread. It’s made with tender chunks of steak, melted cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. And best of all, it’s smothered in a garlic mayonnaise sauce.”

  “And what holds all these ingredients together if they don’t use bread?” Sarah questioned.

  “Crispy fried and flattened plantains!”

  “Hmm.”

  “Look at the brochure. Here’s a picture of the whole meal served with a cheesy beans-and-rice dish and, for dessert, flan de queso.”

  “Which is?”

  “A creamy cross between cheesecake and baked custard.”

  “Charles, there’s nothing on this menu that your doctor would approve for you.”