by Terri Thayer
Pearl made a face.
"Thank you both. For being here when I needed you. My mother had such good friends."
I swallowed hard, the salami a salty lump in my throat.
Ina said, gruffly, "We're not here for your mother, silly. We're here because you needed us. You."
I got misty-eyed and gave them both a big hug.
Pearl spoke first. "We want to thank you, Dewey. You brought our Gussie back to us"
"But Celeste..." I said.
Ina said sternly, "Celeste was lost. That was her choice. There was nothing you could do to prevent that. Don't lose sight of the fact that, because of your actions, Gussie didn't die."
I let their acceptance wash over me. For the first time, I felt their peer.
"I want to show you something," I said. I ran into my office and pulled out the landscape quilt from the desk drawer. I was a little nervous that Ina wouldn't approve, but I really wanted Pearl to see it.
"Look what I did," I said tentatively.
Ina took the small piece from me, and showed it to Pearl. Both women broke into large smiles that thrilled me.
"This is marvelous, Dewey," Ina said.
"I just followed Pearl's pattern"
Pearl said, "Your individuality shows through."
I laughed. "If by individuality, you mean mistakes, I agree with you.
Ina frowned. "If I taught you one thing, Dewey, it's that false humility is not at all attractive. Be proud of what you did."
Ina grabbed me and hugged me, hard. Pearl joined in, patting my back. I squeezed them both.
"What about me?" a shaky voice said. "Can I get in on the hug?"
We turned, arms still entwined. I tripped over Pearl's feet, and looked up to see Gussie, leaning on a walker in the doorway. Her hair was in complete disarray, the front frizzy and the back flattened as though she'd just gotten her head off a pillow. She was wearing slippers and baggy pants and a sweatshirt that read, "If you can't be a good example, be a dire warning."
Pearl let out a whoop, and using her heelies, beat Ina and me over to Gussie's side. We hugged again, this time including Gussie and her walker. Tears, laughter, and incomprehensible words tumbled out.
Finally Ina said, "Sit down, Gussie. How did you get here?"
"Called me a cab," she said. We exchanged a mystified look over her head as she settled into the chair next to the quilt frame. She was shaking, but picked up the needle Pearl had been using and took several stitches.
"Aren't cabs expensive?" I asked tentatively.
Gussie said, "I wanted to work on the raffle quilt. Besides, it's cheaper than another night in the hospital," she said. She set the needle down as though it weighed five pounds and leaned back in the chair, catching her breath.
Ina fussed, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'll be fine. Nothing like sleeping in your own bed to make you feel better."
Home, even a home in the shadow of the woman who tried to kill her, was better than a hospital room.
I patted her arm. "You rest up here. I've got to get back to work. I'm glad you came."
At five, I closed the shop. There were still customers inside, but I was too exhausted to face anyone else. I leaned on the door and looked back at my store. Buster was leaning down, getting an earful from a pretty, middle-aged woman in orange Crocs. All of his attention was on her, and I smiled. I knew what a good feeling that was, being on the receiving end of that focus.
Dad and Vangie were bagging a customer's purchases. Vangie tossing it to Dad after she scanned it, and Dad pretending to dunk it in the bag. The woman was laughing, a high whinnying laugh. Others in line were getting a kick out of their performance.
The store looked decimated. Fabric bolts were everywhere, stacked behind the cutting table, in rows three and four deep. We hadn't been able to keep up with putting things away, but it didn't matter. There was always tomorrow.
I'd be here, first thing, opening QP.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Terri Thayer is busy writing, quilting, and keeping an eye out for murderers at quilt shows. So as not to disappoint her fans, she is still trying to figure out a way to bring Buster to the guild's show and tell.
Ocean Waves-Coming Soon from Midnight Ink
I shivered in the night air. A cool breeze was blowing straight off the Pacific Ocean. I wasn't close enough to see it, but I could hear the waves breaking, and I pulled my old quilt tighter around my shoulders. The only pay phone in the conference center was outside on a wall of the building.
"I heard a woman scream," I said to Buster, for the second time. "A long, drawn-out scream."
His voice was strong and reassuring. "Dewey, babe, you're not in San Jose. Asilomar is in a wildlife preserve. Animals make weird noises. That's all you heard."
"Stop!" A sharp voice cut in. I turned, tangling myself in the phone cord and nearly strangling myself.