Old Maid's Puzzle

by Terri Thayer

  "Hey," I defended. "You know we're getting ready for the sale this weekend. We're kind of busy."

  Jenn looked at me for advice. She was still holding the pile of the QP Original sample quilts that were to be featured on Saturday. "Where can I put these?"

  I shrugged. "They'll be hung up in the next day or so. Put them in the store, but keep an eye on them. We can't lose any. Or worse, have them stolen."

  Jenn strode out of the room. Vangie followed her with a second pile.

  I called after them, "And get the quilt frame out of Celeste's car.

  Ina winced as I yelled in her ear. Ina was a member of the Stitch n' Bitch group and an employee. It wasn't good when she came to the store to have fun and ended up working. I tried not to let that happen. I needed her around. Ina had been working at the store longer than anyone else, hired by my mother twenty years ago. I valued her not only for her institutional knowledge, but for her verve and energy.

  She was looking around the room, mouth pursed, hands on hips. The whole vibe of this group was off today. Gussie and Celeste were not talking to each other. Ina was unusually cranky. "Where are we going to set up the quilting frame?" she said. "And I'm teaching that Advanced Beginning Quilting class in this room beginning at six."

  "Of course I know. I'm in your class, remember? You could have picked a better week to start, but I'm coming anyway. I might be late."

  "It's only six nights out of your life, Dewey. You can handle it."

  It wasn't the remaining five weeks of the class, it was tonight that was causing the time crunch. I couldn't afford to take three hours out of my night and spend it in class. Especially now. But this class was only offered every six months and I needed to continue learning the basics of quilting. I'd finished the beginning section several weeks ago. After I took this class, Ina's description promised, I'd be able to sew any quilt block. I was still waiting to fall in love with quilting like my customers. So far I was only in "like"

  Jenn and Vangie came in with the unwieldy box.

  I said, "Will there be enough room for the class once the frame is set up?"

  "There's plenty of room," Ina said.

  She stiffened as voices flared from the middle of the room.

  Celeste was standing, pointing her threaded needle at Gussie. "Get out of the garbage, Gussie."

  Gussie reached farther under the table for a can that was scooting away from her. "Oh Celeste, leave me alone. I'm not hurting anyone.

  Celeste said, "Pawing through another's trash is unseemly."

  "Waste bothers me more than appearing unseemly," she mimicked Celeste perfectly. "You're the worst offender. I found a perfectly good foxglove plant in your trash yesterday."

  Pearl said, "Oh that reminds me, Celeste. I planted those seeds you gave me..." She stopped because Celeste was focused on Gussie. She hadn't heard anything Pearl said.

  "Dammit!" Celeste rose from her chair. "Stay away from my garbage"

  Gussie was unbowed by her friend's ire. She pointed an empty water bottle at Celeste. "Separate your recyclables and I'll leave your garbage alone. I can't sleep at night knowing our landfills are full of your junk."

  Celeste said, "Isn't it enough that I bring you my coffee grounds and vegetable trimmings for your compost pile?"

  "You benefit from that compost, too," Gussie said.

  Pearl said under her breath, "And you don't have to have the mess in your yard."

  What was going on? Usually these two could have been the stars of Paula Abdul's "Opposites Attract" music video.

  Ina intervened. "You two know better than to talk about the environment, ladies. Can we shelve it for now?" Ina said. "Let's get the quilt on the frame. We've got work to do."

  She opened the box that contained the rods and rails for the quilt frame. I'd seen them assemble this years ago. It would take all four of them several hours to put the frame together and mount the quilt-the better part of the day.

  Still clucking, Celeste joined her, laying out a wooden rail on the floor. Pearl took the quilt top to the ironing board and sprayed it with water. The iron came on with a click.

  Gussie reluctantly put down the Diet Coke can she was holding, and swept her finds into her tote bag, which she stashed under the table. She started toward the group, but nearly tripped as a rail came rolling toward her.

  "Watch what you're doing, Celeste," she said, steadying herself with a hand on a chair back.

  "I want to get this finished."

  "We've got all day."

  "Perhaps you do, but I have many things to attend to. Tonight's the guild meeting and I've got to get home and feed Larry before that."

  Today was all fits and starts that were hard for me to watch. It was like having your favorite grandmothers duking it out over stuffing recipes at Thanksgiving dinner.

  I picked my way carefully to the whiteboard. I just needed to move Vangie's jobs to my list, then I could return to the sanctuary of my office before I was caught in the crossfire.

  Things were quiet except for the hiss of the steam iron, and the sound of the wooden frame pieces banging together. Gussie took a rail from Celeste who was putting it in upside down.

  "Let me do it," Gussie said.

  Celeste hissed. "Gussie the hussy."

  Pearl started to giggle, and I had to turn my head. Celeste's reaction was so over the top. The idea of a slutty Gussie just made me want to howl with laughter. Ina caught my eye.

  Ina said, "Girls..."

  Gussie got down on the floor to tighten a screw on the crosspiece. "Celeste thinks I'm trying to steal her boyfriend. She has it all wrong. Larry is just helping me with my finances"

  "Drop it, Gussie," Celeste warned, her eyes narrowing, her long fingers trembling slightly.

  Gussie either didn't see or chose to ignore Celeste's growing discomfort."I'm not interested in Larry that way."

  I'd heard bits and pieces about Larry, Celeste's boyfriend, but I'd never met him. She kept him under wraps. I knew Pearl's and Ina's husbands. Pearl sent Hiro to the shop at least once a week for something she forgot. Ina's husband, Dan, was like a member of the family, hosting the store's annual barbecue each summer.

  Not so with Celeste. I knew she and Gussie were widows, and before now, I'd never considered their love lives. I'd just assumed they had none. But here they were fighting over the same man. Vangie loved to tease my dad that eligible men over age seventy were rarer than hen's teeth, but I'd never guessed that Celeste or Gussie were in the husband hunt.

  I had to ease the tension. I realized I hadn't shared Lark's phone call. "Guess what?" I said as brightly as a child star on Letterman.

  Ina picked up the thread. "What? Good news, I hope." Her voice was faux cheerful, like she used on her grandson when she wanted him to stop touching the threads out front.

  "Great news," I said. "The Quilter Paradiso segment on Wonderful World of Quilts is going to air on Friday."

  Pearl clapped her hands, nearly tipping the ironing board over. She caught the iron as it headed for the floor.

  I continued, "The QP Original quilts were featured, so I bet one of your quilts will be on the air."

  Gussie smiled. Celeste's face eased just a little. I guess the appeal of being on TV was universal.

  "I don't know if it was Celeste's or Gussie's scrap quilt or one of Ina's, but Kym told me she talked about the QPO quilts in the piece."

  "Dewey, I want you to see something" Vangie was in the doorway, beckoning me. She was wiggling her eyebrows, and held a finger to her lips, like she was some sort of spy. I followed her, glad to be out of that room.

  I heard Ina and Gussie speculating about whose quilt would be on air. As I closed the door, Pearl was promising that Hiro would tape the show and make them all copies.

  In our office, Vangie gestured to her monitor. "What do you think?"

  The new Quilter Paradiso website filled her screen. Of course with Vangie in charge, the site had a sixties flair, but she'd managed to capture m
y style, too. Our logo, quilts hanging on a line strung between two palm trees, had been stylized. The palm fronds were lime green, and the tree trunks hot pink. The quilts were brightly colored, with paisleys and stripes and marimekko-style flowers predominating.

  "Already?" I asked in amazement. "I love the look."

  She shrugged. "I had this prototype ready to go."

  I moved the mouse around the home page. "I like the QP Originals section."

  "Click through. A picture of the quilt and then a picture of the corresponding kit comes up." Vangie cracked her knuckles as she stared at her computer screen. She wasn't as secure in her abilities as I thought she should be. "It's not live yet. You can't hurt anything."

  "Awesome" I moved around the pages, enjoying the top labels she'd used and the background. Vangie knew that quilters used the Internet, but the levels of expertise varied widely. The site was clearly marked and easy to maneuver.

  I said, "I'm glad there's nothing blinking."

  "Yeah, well, I didn't want any of our older customers to have a stroke," Vangie said.

  "It's cool. When will the site be up and running?"

  "I'm shooting for Friday morning. Right after the show airs. Some viewers are going to go straight to their computer when it ends."

  This was happening so fast. I felt the butterflies of undone tasks start up again. "We'll have orders as early as Friday?"

  Vangie smiled. "We might."

  I stuffed the panic rising in my throat. How would we handle virtual customers and real ones at the same time? "We could use more staff. I wish there was time to put an ad in the quilt guild newsletter looking for more help."

  Vangie said, "You could post a note on their listserv. Not everyone in the guild uses it, but those who do will spread the word. Remember how fast we got fabric donations when we were making those charity quilts?"

  "That's a good idea. Someone out there has to be willing to work for what I can afford to pay."

  "Nothing, you mean?" Vangie said with a grin.

  "I'll give them a great discount," I said.

  Vangie smirked and we returned to our computers. We were good together, able to work in the same small place without disturbing each other. Our rule was no talking for at least fifty minutes each hour. Then we took a stretching break and chatted.

  I glanced out at Jenn. I could keep an eye on what was going on in the store from the window in front of my desk. When this had been my grandfather Dewey's hardware store, it had been the accounts payable window. One of the glass panels slid in front of the other, and a narrow wooden ledge jutted out into the store. The carpenters could rest their elbows while paying their invoices. Now, it was just handy to make sure my customers were being taken care of.

  Everything looked quiet. Jenn was scheduled by herself for the morning until Kym came in later.

  Half an hour later, an e-mail came from Lark. She'd sent a video clip from the show.

  "Nang, look at this."

  Vangie grunted, a signal that she was in the middle of something I shouldn't interrupt.

  The video clip was only about thirty seconds. It opened with a pan of the store. My mother would have been proud. The store looked just like it did when she was alive.

  I watched Kym closely. I had to admit she looked good on TV. I grinned. Probably because of her big head.

  An idea was forming. I replayed the clip to make sure. This was too good. I needed Vangie to get started on this right away.

  I scooted my chair over to her, carrying the laptop. "Vangie!" I waved my fingers in front of her monitor. Her face darkened.

  I pulled her iPod connection out of the computer. "I need you for a moment. Take a look at what Lark sent."

  She sighed and hit the save button on her computer. She glanced at me and then at the laptop.

  "Whoop-dee-do. Kym and Lark. I can wait 'til Friday."

  I set the laptop in front of her. "You've got to watch this. It's just a short clip."

  I played the video. Lark and Kym stood in front of our cutting table. The wall behind was a kaleidoscope of color.

  Lark said, "We're here in San Jose at Quilter Paradiso, talking to the floor manager, Kym Pellicano."

  Vangie snorted. "Gave herself a promotion, I see"

  I said, "Sssh. Watch this bit."

  On the screen, Kym was explaining her method of applique.

  "There," I yelled, pointing. I stopped the playback and touched the screen. "Check out that cord she always has attached to her apron. She's got a pair of those fancy scissors hanging from it. The ones with the palm-tree handle." "

  I don't know why that's not outlawed," Vangie said, unconsciously crossing her arms across her chest. "Hanging scissors on a cord pinned to your boob? The idea gives me the shivers."

  "Focus. Wait until you see what she does with them."

  I pressed the play button and Kym leaned over, still talking, and clipped a thread hanging from Lark's sleeve. Lark looked startled at being touched and then miffed. She moved a step away from Kym, nearly cutting her out of the frame.

  Vangie said, "She did not just do that."

  "Oh yes, she did. Kym, Super Scissor Girl. She's ready to cut any errant thread."

  "You never know when there's a thread-hanging emergency." Vangie laughed. "Lark looks pissed."

  "Probably because she couldn't reshoot. But the point is, everyone's going to see Kym trimming Lark's clothing with those very sharp, very small ... very expensive scissors."

  Light came on in Vangie's eyes. "You're thinking our customers are going to want those scissors."

  I nodded. "Bingo. It always happens. Lark demonstrates something on the show and we get calls." The best way to make a profit was to have merchandise come in and go out again quickly. The specialty scissors was the perfect scenario. The TV show would create the desire. The scissors were unique; no other store would have them in stock. All I needed was to outlay the cash to buy the inventory.

  "I want to order us at least a hundred pair and sell them this weekend."

  Vangie whistled. "They were expensive. We had a half dozen in stock last summer. Took us six months to get rid of them. If I remember, they retailed at seventy bucks apiece."

  Vangie was protesting, but her fingers were moving around, pulling up a browser and searching. "I don't remember the name of the company that makes them. It was a small scissor company back East, wasn't it?"

  I said, "I don't know. But here's a challenge for you. You find them, get me a gross here by Saturday, and I will buy you lunch for a month."

  "Deal"

  I stuffed down the thought that I didn't have time for this. Opportunity never came at a convenient time. Retail was all about having the right inventory in stock when the fickle customer wanted it. I was betting these scissors were going to be the hottest sellers this weekend.

  I only hoped I was right.

  FOUR

  THE MORNING WENT BY quickly. I worked on checking in the new inventory. In the last month, Vangie and I had made a list of every tool and notion used in the QP Original quilts and maxed out the credit card ordering them. Now the items were here, but needed to be counted and priced. The sixteen-page invoice didn't match the items in the box, so I was struggling.

  From my desk, I could see that there weren't many customers today, a fact I could live with, knowing that many were waiting for the sale day. We'd make up the lost revenue then.

  Vangie worked on her computer, her headphones firmly in place. I could hear The Doors blasting through. I waved to get her attention, and she stopped her MP3 player.

  I needed to vent. "We're going to have to get going to decorate the store on Thursday, Vang," I said.

  "That's my bowling night."

  "Sorry, but I don't see a break in the schedule all week. We've got to hang up all the QPO samples and make sure the merchandising's done right."

  She groaned. "I can't miss. It's a tournament."

  "It'll be fun. We'll crank up the music, and turn o
n all the lights and burn through. I bet it won't take us more than a couple of hours. I'll have you in and outta here by ten."

  "Nine," she said.

  I went back to my computer screen and Vangie returned to hers.

  Vangie went to lunch around one, promising me a burrito when she returned. Soon after, I heard Jenn calling to me. I slid the window open.

  Her ears were red, so I knew she was flustered. "Dewey, I'm alone on the floor and I need some help."

  Crap. While I'd had my head down, the store had filled up. I left my desk in a hurry. Four women stood patiently at the cutting table, chatting amiably, even though they were most likely strangers. Quilters weren't shy. One was loudly expressing her frustration with sewing on flannel. The listener was offering hints on special needles and batting. The other two were perusing a book. I heard one of them mention Fibonacci numbers.

  There was no sign of my sisterin-law. "Where's Kym?" I asked.

  Jenn smiled at a customer, but I could see that she was upset. She unfurled fabric, the bolt clunking on the table as she flipped it roughly. "I checked the schedule. Kym should have been here at twelve-thirty," she said.

  A red-haired customer called to me from the checkout counter, "You want my money or what?"

  "Of course I'll take your money," I said, returning her grin and joining her at the cash register. I rang up her sale.

  I didn't move for the next half-hour, just ringing up sales while Jenn cut fabric and grabbed notions. We finally cleared the store of all customers.

  "Why does that always happen?" I asked. "There's either a crowd or nobody."

  "Don't you know? They stand on the sidewalk until they see others entering, then everyone jumps in at once," Jenn said, illustrating her point with extravagant gestures. Away from Kym, I liked Jenn. "And once they're together, it's a feeding frenzy. People buy because others are buying-it's as simple as that."

  I laughed. I stretched, pulling one arm over my head, then the other, working out the kinks.