Good Bones: A Taylor Quinn Quilt Shop Mystery (The Taylor Quinn Quilt Shop Mysteries Book 7)

by Tess Rothery

  Belle turned to Taylor. "This is my sister's space. While here for the weekend, you will have two sessions in the parlor to learn the kind of needlework that was done by ladies of leisure in 1904. We will provide all of the materials and the best teacher in town." She smiled benignly at Taylor who felt a little silly. She knew she was far from the best teacher of needlework in Comfort. After all, Comfort College of Art and Craft was one of the premier arts colleges on the West Coast. But only half the people in the room knew that.

  “Will we be quilting?” Jeanne asked.

  “There’s isn’t enough time in just a weekend to make a quilt,” Belle said, “but each of your beds has a vintage quilt made by our Grandma Delma. All of the patterns have stories.”

  “I’d love to tell you all about them in our little parlor sessions,” Taylor tossed in when Belle paused.

  “Fabulous.” Jeanne’s face lit up. “I came for the quilts. I’m totally hooked on the Flour Sax Quilt Show. I just don’t have five minutes of spare time. Not before the pandemic and certainly not now.”

  “I’ll make sure we get some good quilt talks in then.” Taylor was using her retail-employee smile. She’d love to talk quilts, of course, but she wasn’t great on the spot, and would need to do a little preparation.

  Belle directed them to the dining room. Two large square tables with three chairs each stood almost twelve feet apart from each other. Since the nearest edges of the tables didn’t have chairs, it met social distancing guidelines. “This weekend we are all in the same exposure bubble, but we are going to practice safe social distancing none the less. For the rest of this weekend, we won't be leaving, and we won’t be inviting anyone else in. I know getting covid tests is difficult right now, and so I appreciate that all of you tracked your symptoms and exposure for the last two weeks in preparation for the event. We’ll keep you in groups small enough to keep six feet apart, and require masks at all times, indoors or outdoors.”

  The next stop in the tour was the ballroom. It was a few flights of stairs up, but the small elevator was a no go as far as distancing was concerned.

  When they stepped into the grand space, Jeanne gasped.

  The ballroom had a wall of windows that looked over the town, and though you couldn't see the creek for the trees, you could see glimpses the lush green deciduous forest that lined the creek as it wound around their little home. The deep green points of the evergreen trees that sheltered the small town framed the rolling streets as though it were a Currier and Ives engraving.

  "One of the many things I'm excited to introduce you to," Belle said, "is beauty and health trends of the early 20th century. Women throughout history have enjoyed both babying themselves and pushing themselves to excellence. We have Sissy Dorney, Cecelia if you prefer…"

  Sissy interrupted. "I do not prefer."

  The room rippled with laughter.

  "Sissy Dorney will give us vintage beauty salon and spa experiences. She’s prepared to pamper our skin and treat our hair just like our great-great-grandmothers would've. But the life of a woman in 1904 wasn't all leisure and beauty, so we will also try our hand at a little bit of the calisthenics that were popular at the time."

  Sissy took a bow. She was by no means Comfort's own fitness expert, but she was known for her healthy glow and her commitment to training for local fundraising races. There were certain seasons of the year when citizens of Comfort quickly turned away if they saw Sissy bearing down on them. You could go broke sponsoring Sissy on her many speed walks.

  “Finally,” Belle said as she led them back downstairs to her favorite room in the house, “we have the library.” She flung the double doors to the tower room open as though she were the Beast revealing his library for the first time.

  The tower library was open for two stories and lined top to bottom with shelves that Belle was working to fill with books.

  A spiral staircase led to the gallery that accessed the second story of shelves. "Lorraine, the Love family has always been known for its excellence in learning and education. Qualities you currently embody wholeheartedly."

  Lorraine nodded, her face wreathed in a bemused smile. She was, after all, a PhD in history, stuck running her family's small-town museum after a series of alcohol driven professional failures.

  "Sadly, through the years, this library was picked apart and sold off. I expect the books reside in thrift shops all around the world now. However, Jonah and I are doing our absolute best to rebuild it. If not to what it once was, then to what it can currently be."

  "Like that golden chicken?" Pyper asked with a laugh.

  "Yes!" Belle turned to a quarter-sawn walnut display case. It was larger than a standard hutch and built into the wall of the library. "Though technically that is a bronze-painted rooster skeleton. We purchased this place thinking it had good bones. Unfortunately, it was riddled with carpenter ants and dry rot.”

  Courtney clucked in sympathy. “Ours, too. Such a nasty wet climate for wood houses!”

  “When Jonah found this at the antique mall on Main Street, he snapped it up so we could finally have some good bones.” She paused to let the group laugh at her pun. “And I just had to create what was often called a cabinet of curiosities.”

  “You certainly had the cabinet for it.” Courtney looked the impressive piece up and down.

  Belle drew her eyebrows together. She didn’t seem to like the friendly interruptions to her speech. “Oregon is full of natural history treasures. Our preference is for fossils of all kinds, but there are a few other little bone objects, such as the bone handled knife that was once owned by Alphonso Boone, one of Daniel Boone’s Oregon Pioneer grandsons. We thought it belonged in the Boone-Love Curiosity Cabinet.” She glowed with pride. “I thought filling the cabinet would be hard, but it turns out the internet loves historians with lots of money.” She lifted her eyebrows as though to indicate this was a punchline.

  An awkward laughter flitted across the room. Though every woman here might have been considered someone of means, no one but Belle was living off their husband’s internet riches. And it was both new and uncomfortable to think about.

  “We’ll have our evening history conversations here in the library after dinner, though you are welcome to come and explore during your free time.”

  Jeanne stifled a yawn.

  She did her best, but Taylor was feeling it too. Though Belle had an engaging manner, in a general way, the tour had been longer than necessary.

  “But enough from me." Belle’s laugh sounded nervous.

  Sissy stepped forward, in what Taylor was sure was an unscripted moment. “We’re so glad you're here and hope you enjoy a little time to explore the home and property. Please remember to wear a mask, and if you stand face-to-face, please stand 6 feet apart when conversing. It may feel awkward, at first, but it's far less awkward than lying in a hospital bed on a ventilator. We’ll see you all at lunch.”

  Pyper and Tansy were the first to leave.

  Taylor was envious of their comfortable, friendly relationship. Likely it had to do with being closer in age than Taylor and Belle were. But their closeness as they whispered to each other, arm in arm, was lovely.

  Sissy followed them.

  Belle’s professional smile was less practiced than Taylor’s. And her pale face had pinked with embarrassment. Taylor recognized the color from her many ballet recitals as a child. Though more than competent in many ways, Belle had always struggled with being the center of attention. She escaped the library via the French doors that led outside.

  Taylor stayed behind.

  The Cabinet of Curiosities fascinated her just like the weird little shop with the monkey-head mermaid at Long Beach had as a child. So many weird, dead things in one spot.

  "Too bad we won't be trying any hundred-year-old medical treatments." Jeanne’s voice was teasing.

  Courtney laughed. Taylor assumed it was Courtney, because she was so familiar with the sound of her old friend Maddie's laugh. "If no
thing else, they did have aspirin back then," Courtney said.

  "Just because something is old, doesn't mean it's ineffective." Maddie's voice sounded tired. Maybe even a little icy.

  "And likewise, just because something is old doesn't mean it's proven."

  When Taylor turned, Jeanne and Courtney were leaving together.

  Maddie joined Taylor at the cabinet. "Who would've thought that on my girls weekend away, you would be happiest one to see me." Her eyes still had that hard look to them, and a vein in her temple stood out as though she was under the influence of a decided tension headache.

  A pang bit at Taylor’s heart. This was her old friend. The one she’d grown up with. "What's wrong with those two?" Taylor asked, unwilling to address what had been unspoken between them for so long.

  "I like to be on the forefront of my career. And that doesn't always earn me kudos.” Maddie’s response was vague and tinged with defensiveness.

  "You're doing something they don't approve of?" Taylor asked.

  Maddie shrugged. "Jeanne is a pediatric nurse practitioner who think she's a doctor. What can you do with someone who thinks they’re a doctor?"

  "Are you a doctor?" Taylor asked. "Sorry, I don't mean that the way it sounded. I just couldn't remember if you were a PhD psychiatrist or not."

  "I'm working on it. I hope to present my thesis next year. It's not an MD, though. Which means no matter what I say about my chosen career, some people will never see me as an expert."

  "That must be tough." An incredible thunder egg in the cabinet of curiosity had caught Taylor’s eye. The rough gray exterior of the stone had been split to reveal what looked like a world of enchantment encapsulated in the cerulean crystal. These were some of her favorite natural history objects. The many skeletons Jonah had collected for their cabinet, could not compare, though the bronze-colored rooster had a certain elegance.

  "Are those rats?" Maddie asked, pointing at two rodent-like skeletons posed as though in combat, plastic cocktail swords thrust into the air.

  "Belle says the bronze-colored rooster inspired the cabinet, but actually they found several rat skeletons in the basement. Jonah had someone make those for him out of the ones they found. The fancy bird is absolutely the good bones because those other ones are not good."

  Maddie laughed. "I am glad you're here, Taylor. We have so much to talk about. We've wasted so much time."

  "We’re a whole lot older than we were just a few years ago, aren't we?" Taylor found she couldn’t commit to healing the breach.

  "I suspect after 2020, everyone is." Maddie’s shoulders dropped in defeat.

  After 2020. But really, the year was only half done.

  The words lingered with Taylor, later, as she looked over her notes for the class she would be teaching the next day. They were only halfway through the year, but she felt certain that Maddie was right. The first six months had felt like a decade. But the hard times had to be coming to an end.

  Chapter Two

  Taylor couldn't know what the other guests had been expecting for lunch, but she certainly had not anticipated “Boston Sandwiches”, a delicacy consisting of cream cheese mixed with olives, and crushed peanuts spread on thick brown bread.

  She watched the guests as they wrestled with the dense sandwich that clung to the roofs of the mouths. Taylor thought the situation called for a bright sparkling wine to loosen them up, but instead Aviva had served some atrocity called barley water.

  Fortunately, they also had good, old fashioned ice water with lemons or they might have had a protest on their hands.

  Catering was awkward because of the scrabbled together safety measures. Each meal was arranged on a little tray with cutlery, napkins, single use salt and pepper, and a name card. Taylor had passed the trays out hoping the food would be good, but as she watched the guests pick at their plates from the door of the butler’s pantry, she doubted the wisdom of letting Aviva plan the weekend menu all by herself.

  Though the sandwiches were not going to be anyone's favorite, the guests did seem to enjoy the fruit and nut salad. The simple mix of pineapple, Maraschino cherries, Grandma Quinny’s strawberries, and assorted nuts seemed to please everyone. The dessert on the menu looked as though it would also go down well, though Sissy had not come upstairs with those trays yet.

  Watching them eat impressed Taylor with the impossibility of suppressing virus spread. One can’t eat with a mask on, and seated so far apart, they had to project unnaturally to be heard. Taylor was the only staff person allowed in the dining room while the guests ate, but she still took the food from Sissy, who took it from Aviva. A perfect chain for the virus to travel, if it wanted to.

  This constant need to be thinking about who breathed near you and who you would be breathing near next was overwhelming. Taylor wanted to turn away and get herself together. This was just so many people. So much breathing. So different from her life over the last few months. But she stood strong in her doorway and hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself. After all, they’d all voluntarily tracked their exposure for the necessary two weeks. There was nothing to be afraid of.

  Jeanne, the nurse practitioner, had pushed her plate away and set her mask back into place. Her glasses were already fogging. Perhaps she was compensating for the fabric over her mouth, but her voice echoed in the cavernous dining room as she described trying to see patients with their masks on. As she was seated with Maddie, the conversation turned quickly to psychology.

  "I've just always wanted to help kids." Pyper sipped the barley water. The look of shock that passed over her face evidence she’d done it on accident. She picked up her lemon water and took a long drink.

  "Me too. It's wildly satisfying." Maddie nibbled at her sandwich and puckered her lips.

  Jeanne slid her mask down and nibbled her sandwich again. She cocked an eyebrow pursed her lips and put it down. "It's different. It's not bad. But it's not what our palates are used to."

  "It's terrible, and I'm telling Aviva what I honestly think," Pyper said. "She's great friends with my little brother. Sure, she's been in the kitchen at the diner for ages, but that doesn't mean she has any idea…" Pyper looked up and caught Taylor's eye.

  Taylor rolled her eyes, then smiled. She couldn’t blame Pyper for her proprietorial attitude over the young Aviva or her opinion on the sandwich spread.

  "I'm sure she did a really good job making this, but I don’t like it," Pyper corrected herself.

  "When working with people, you have to learn a fine balance between saying what needs to be said and saying things in a way people can accept." Jeanne sounded like a teacher. Taylor thought that wasn’t the right tone to take with Pyper. It was a remarkably effective example of Jeanne’s point.

  "I couldn't have said that better myself." Maddie peeled her sandwich apart. "Especially when you're working with children and will have to talk to their parents. I don't know how teachers do it.” Maddie laughed. “I don't know how I do it." She picked up her sandwich-spread free bread and took a bite. She nodded, as though the bread alone was nice.

  Jeanne lowered her eyebrows. "I don't know how you do it with a straight face."

  "Now that’s something that you should probably try to say in a way she can receive it,” Pyper challenged. “Otherwise, you just sound rude.”

  Jeanne ignored Pyper. "Some of the things that you've been telling parents are, well…I don't want to say they’re harmful."

  "But you think they are?" Maddie put her bread down. "Have you seen any of the studies?"

  "There are no peer reviewed studies published in reputable medical journals about some of this stuff. I don't know how you can stomach it."

  "Just because it's not in the current mainstream doesn't mean there isn't evidence." Maddie ripped the crust off her bread.

  "Anecdotes aren't evidence." Jeanne popped her mask off to have a drink of water.

  "I'm really fascinated by alternative medicine." Pyper smiled at Maddie. It was clear who she sided
with in this argument, and Taylor appreciated it. Maddie seemed so vulnerable compared to the self-assured medical professional.

  "Young people love that kind of foolishness." Jeanne slipped her mask back on. "You'll grow out of it.”

  “Excuse me," Maddie interjected. “I don't appreciate you calling my work foolishness."

  "Counseling is not foolishness." Jeanne spoke in a softer, more agreeable tone. "I often encourage my patients at the medical clinic to seek counseling. But you and I disagree at a foundational level about some of the things you choose to attempt in your practice. I know you're working on your PhD. And I hope that in that process you will—"

  "Come to see things your way?" Maddie pushed her plate away impatiently. "If everyone saw things the same way, where would progress come from? How would anything improve?"

  "You think drinking bleach water is an improvement?" Jeanne demanded.

  Pyper’s eyes went wide. "I’ve read about that. It sounds so dangerous."

  "There’s more bleach in your city tap water than what we’re talking about.” Maddie shrugged lightly, dismissing Pyper’s fear.

  "Does the water retain the memory of the Clorox?” The contempt in Jeanne’s tone was palpable.

  Taylor listened intently for footsteps on the stairs from the kitchen. They needed their dessert and they needed it now.

  The conversation between Tansy, Lorraine, and Courtney at the other table was hardly better. Though she'd been sucked into the argument between Jeanne and Maddie, every now and again she heard Lorrain's condescending tones as she spoke to the other guests.

  As a descendent of the family that had built the house, as well as a professional historian, Lorraine ought to have been staff. But she was a guest, and she shouldn't be taking that tone with the others. Especially not Courtney, who seemed to need this break. “I don't regret the choice to homeschool at all," Courtney was saying. "I’m a well-educated woman, and what I lack in higher degrees, I make up for in reading anything and everything I can get my hands on.”