Tie Died

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Tie Died Page 4

by Carol Dean Jones


  Walking home from the center, Sarah thought about Andy having a twin brother and wondered why he had never mentioned him. Maybe he was just embarrassed about having a brother in prison. She had so many questions for Andy that she would never be able to ask. The loss suddenly washed over her like a wave, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

  Sarah knew she should allow herself to feel her feelings, but she didn’t want to walk down the street sobbing. She was too proud a woman for that, so she attempted to think about something else, at least until she got home. She remembered that she had promised Vicky Barnett she would call about the volunteer job, and she still hadn’t decided what to do about it. As she walked, she weighed the pros and cons and suddenly realized something. In the wake of Andy’s death and the investigation, it just might be nice to have a retired policeman to talk with about it. She decided to accept the challenge and found herself smiling.

  She called Vicky Barnett as soon as she got home and told her she was interested in meeting the client. “I would like to wait a few weeks to meet him, though,” she added, “since I’m beginning a quilting class and I’m not sure about my schedule.” Vicky was very pleased that she had decided to volunteer. Sarah was relieved to have finally made a decision.

  * * * * *

  Over the next few days, the investigation seemed to die down somewhat, and people returned to their usual activities. Everyone missed Andy, but as Sophie said, throwing her chubby arms in the air in her exuberant way, “Life goes on.”

  Not everyone was that nonchalant about Andy’s death, and, in fact, it wasn’t that insignificant to Sophie either. Over coffee that week, Sophie and Sarah began to speculate on who could possibly have done it. As Sophie talked, tears flooded her eyes. She of course made a joke of it, saying, “Well, there goes the ghost of Andy, squirting water in my eyes.”

  Sophie and Sarah went through the list of everyone they could think of in the community and found it incredulous that it could be any of their friends or neighbors. For one thing, there was just no motive. They decided it would be good for all his friends to get together at the center and brainstorm. Surely someone knew something that could help them figure this out. Apparently, the police were getting nowhere. They had removed several boxes from Andy’s house, including his computer. Sarah briefly wondered why he used the computer lab when he had a computer of his own. He had never mentioned having it.

  Sophie managed to get the word out, and the next day the group met at the restaurant. They went first to the coffee shop, but it was immediately apparent that there was much more interest in this discussion than they had anticipated. Word had spread through the community, and twenty-three people showed up—almost everyone on their block and another group of friends he had made in his various activities.

  “Truth be known,” Sophie was saying, “we really don’t know much about Andy and his background. It was news to me that he had an ex-wife and stepchildren.” She went on to introduce herself and Sarah and explained that they lived on the same block with Andy. Everyone from that block chimed in with their names, and then they heard from the others.

  “Hi, I’m Sam Horner. Andy and I played poker every Saturday at the center with a bunch of the guys from the Village. I probably know more about Andy than anyone because I knew him before I moved here. In fact, he’s the reason I chose the Village. We worked together in Pennsylvania at the steel mill in Bethlehem. Andy was a supervisor, and everyone liked him. I never worked for him myself, but we became good friends over the years.

  “We would go out after work for a beer,” Sam continued. “Andy had just lost his first wife and needed a friend. He was drinking a little too much in those days, probably because of the way he lost his wife. She died in the hospital following an automobile accident. He didn’t like to talk about it much, but you could tell he had really loved that woman. He and Mary had only been married a few years when she died. We kept in touch, and when I retired, Andy suggested I come here to live. I’ll sure miss that guy.” Sam dropped his head and struggled to keep his emotions in check.

  “I didn’t meet Andy until I moved to the Village,” another man began, “but he and I spent many hours together at the coffee shop after our meetings. I know AA is supposed to be anonymous, but I’m not ashamed to say I’m there every week, and Andy would not mind me saying he was an inspiration to everyone there. His drinking had almost ruined his life. He lost his second wife and her kids because of it, but in the years I’ve known him, he hasn’t touched a drop. He became a really great guy that we called our friend.” Merrell had not introduced himself, but Sarah had met him once at the computer lab.

  A voice from the back spoke up, asking, “Didn’t Andy have a brother? I think I remember something about a brother.”

  Sam responded, saying, “Andy told me he had a twin brother. He didn’t have any contact with him though. Andy didn’t know if he was even still alive. Last he heard, his brother was in prison somewhere, probably for life.”

  A woman in the back spoke up, “The ex-wife seemed pretty nice, but she told me she’s been out of touch with Andy since the divorce, and she wasn’t able to shed any light on what could have happened to him.”

  “Her kids seemed very sullen,” someone added. “I couldn’t tell if they were grieving or angry.”

  A man sitting on the sidelines stood up and introduced himself as Ashton. “I tried to talk to the ex-wife myself. She said the police talked to all three of them the day of the funeral. She was definitely upset about that. I guess the detective had been really rude to her. She said this whole thing was none of her concern and she was sorry she had come. I talked to her awhile but got away as soon as I could. I’m not sure why she came either.”

  “Did anyone talk to his sister?” Sarah asked.

  No one responded right away. Finally, Sophie said, “I spoke with the sister briefly. She hadn’t been in touch with Andy for a few years. She left right after the police talked with us, but she’ll probably be around later since she’s the only person available to take care of Andy’s belongings.”

  “No,” Sarah spoke up. “That’s one thing I know about. I offered to help her with closing down the house, but she said she would be out of the country for several months and couldn’t deal with it right now. She said she would empty it out and put it on the market when she returns.”

  “Who was that ragtag guy in the back at the funeral?” someone asked. No one seemed to know.

  Three hours passed as the group continued to talk about Andy, but no one was able to come up with an idea about his death. “Couldn’t this have just been a random robbery gone badly?” one person asked.

  “Well, I’m sure the police have looked at that possibility. We do have security, and you need a pass to get through the gates, but I suppose something could go wrong.”

  The group contemplated that and ultimately decided to break up the meeting. Someone suggested that if anyone had any other ideas, they should contact the group.

  “How do we do that?” someone asked. “Who’s in charge?” No one volunteered, and finally Sophie spoke up and said, “Sarah and I will be available. Just call either one of us.” Sarah gasped. Later she asked Sophie what she could possibly do since she was so new to the Village. Sophie said, “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. You have me,” and burst out with her infectious cackle.

  Chapter 13

  Sarah pulled herself out of a deep sleep and felt a great sadness, like something terrible had happened, but until she was completely awake, she wasn’t sure what it was. Andy. Sarah realized she had been dreaming about the day a group of their friends had gone to the pool and had such a wonderful time. But suddenly, in her dream, Andy began to sink. She grabbed for him, but he slipped away. At first, Sarah was glad it was only a dream, but then she remembered that Andy had, in fact, slipped away and out of their lives.

  Once she was up and had coffee, Sarah began to feel better. She was particularly glad this was the day of her first quil
ting class. She was pleased to have a new venture, but again, she was sad she couldn’t share it with Andy. Maybe he knew.

  The beginning class was going to meet two times a week. Sarah had the supply list and had purchased everything on her first visit to the shop, but she still hadn’t unpacked the supplies. She had opened the bag when she got home that day but was overwhelmed by all the strange items. She decided to set the bag aside and wait for the first class. Ruth had promised her that by the time she finished the class she would know what to do with all the tools and accessories she had in her tote bag and would actually be using them.

  Sarah arrived at Running Stitches before the other students. Ruth and her daughter, Katie, were already there setting up the classroom. The shop would be open during class time. Ruth and Katie planned to take turns teaching and taking care of customers.

  The classroom was partially exposed to the shop but was in a large alcove that gave them privacy. Ruth liked that visitors to the shop could see the students at work. There were three sewing machines for the students to use if they didn’t want to bring their own. Ruth and Katie had also set up an ironing station and a cutting station along the far wall. There were two large worktables in the center of the room.

  Ruth was perhaps fifty-five. It was hard to estimate because she was very plain in demeanor and dress. Later Sarah learned that Ruth had been raised plain in an Amish community in Ohio. She had left her family when she was barely nineteen to attend art school. Ruth was a talented artist who transitioned in later years to being a talented quilter. Her designs and work were impeccable. Occasionally, one would see a hint of sadness cross her face when people talked about family. She had been shunned by her community and was forbidden to have contact with them. She was particularly sorry that her daughter, Katie, would never know her grandparents or her aunts and uncles in Ohio.

  Three other students arrived, and they introduced themselves to one another and gathered around the cappuccino machine, enjoying steaming coffee and sweet rolls. Ruth always had coffee, tea, and sweets available in the back room of the shop, not just for the students but also for the customers. Sarah was clearly the oldest student, with the others appearing to be in their mid thirties.

  Probably the youngest was Lacey. Lacey had short dark hair and dark eyes and a flawless complexion. She was nicely dressed in black slacks and a tailored white blouse. She had her baby with her, and Sarah hoped this wasn’t going to be a distraction. In fact, he only woke up briefly one time and went right back to sleep when Lacey gently rocked his carriage.

  Dottie burst into the shop like a whirlwind, apologizing for being late. Ruth tried to tell her she was actually early, but it was hard to get her attention as she nervously flitted from one thing to another. “My youngest just started school,” she explained breathlessly. “I’ve waited for this day for six years. I just didn’t have the time to quilt with two kids in grade school and Mary running around the house, but now that she’s in school with the boys, it’s my time to have some fun.” Dottie was wearing jeans and a rumpled tee-shirt, and her curly red hair was struggling to get free from the scrunchie that attempted to control it.

  The fourth student, to Sarah’s surprise, was a young man. After speaking with Frank briefly, it was clear that he was somewhat limited, but she wasn’t sure just what it was. He spoke slowly and thoughtfully but was very clear about why he was there. “I want to make the little quilt in the window,” Frank said emphatically.

  Talking with Ruth and Katie later, Sarah learned that Frank had lost his mother when he was very young and had lived with his grandparents since then. His grandfather had recently died, and he wanted to do something special for his grandmother. She had admired the table runner in the window of Running Stitches, and Frank decided to buy it for her. He worked at Keller’s Market as a stock clerk and made very little money, but he hoped he could buy it on time. When he came into the shop to talk to Ruth about buying the “little quilt,” as he called it, she explained that it was not for sale. It was a table runner that her beginning class would be making. Frank asked if he could take the class and make one. She was unsure what to say.

  After talking with Frank for a while, she learned he had attended the local workshop for young adults with special needs. There he had learned to run the sewing machines and worked on a workshop contract making place mats and napkins. Although she was concerned about safety issues, particularly around the rotary cutter, Frank volunteered that he had previously worked in the woodworking shop and understood about being careful. Ruth decided to give it a try and signed him up for the beginning quilting class. Everyone had a supply list and had purchased their supplies in advance, but Ruth had told Frank she had some extra supplies he could use until he decided whether he liked quilting.

  “Okay, class. Let’s find a seat and get to know each other.” It became apparent the students already knew each other from their pre-class coffee break, so she introduced herself and Katie and said, “Let’s begin.” Ruth started out by showing the class some quilts that had not yet been put together so she could introduce the concepts of a quilt: the pieced top, the batting, the back, the quilting, and the binding. “Now don’t be overwhelmed, folks. We do these things one at a time, and what you’re going to learn in this session is the basics of quilting and how to use the tools. You’ll be making this table runner,” she said as she held up the sample that had been in the window. “This will give you the opportunity to learn and practice most of the techniques you’ll need to make a large quilt, but you’ll be working on something small that you can completely finish in this class. Any questions so far?” she asked.

  Sarah spoke up to say she was hoping to make a quilt with her husband’s ties and asked if she would be able to do that by the end of this class. “Well, Sarah, as I said, by the end of this class you’ll have the basic techniques. So, theoretically, you should be able to make your tie quilt. I think you’ll have lots of questions, and you might want to take one more class.” Ruth went on to suggest that Sarah take a more advanced class to make a throw or even a full-size quilt. She explained that taking on a project working with silk or polyester ties might be a bit overwhelming this early in the game.

  “Another possibility,” Ruth continued, “is that you might want to join our Friday night quilt group. It’s not a class; it’s just an informal group of quilters who come in after the shop closes and work on their own projects. They help each other with quilting problems ...”

  “... and every other kind of problem,” Katie interjected from the next room.

  “Okay, yes,” Ruth smiled, “... and every other kind of problem. I think you would enjoy the group even if you haven’t started your project. Join us whenever you feel like it.” Ruth looked around the room and added, “Of course, that goes for everybody. It’s a friendly, casual group, and we would love to have more members.”

  Sarah was somewhat disappointed but recognized that she needed to learn some skills before she could take on her project. She decided she would sign up for the next level and make a throw for her living room.

  Next, Ruth passed out some fabric, and the class practiced with their cutting mats and rotary cutters. They learned the importance of precision cutting. They cut three-inch strips and next went to the machines to practice sewing with a quarter-inch seam. Ruth explained that being precise in these two skills would almost guarantee a well-made quilt.

  After a short break, the group returned to the table to find a basket overflowing with fabric. Picking up a few of the fabric pieces, Ruth said, “I’ve filled this basket with a variety of color values: dark, medium, and light. I’ve also included designs that are large, medium, and small. Let’s go through the fat quarters and put them in piles by value and then by size.” The group did the exercise while learning the importance of varying both value and design size. One question seemed to be on everyone’s mind, and Sarah ultimately asked, “What, exactly, is a fat quarter?” Ruth explained the difference between fat qu
arters and quarter yards and when one might prefer one over the other.

  “Excuse me, Ruth,” Katie interrupted, “Mrs. Morrison has a question for you about some fabric she ordered. I’ll take over here.” Ruth quickly left the classroom and Katie took her place.

  Katie passed out the pattern for the table runner they would be making and went over each step with them. “At the beginning of the pattern, you will see the fabric requirements. Before our next class, you need to get these fabrics. You can purchase them here, or if you have other fabric you want to use, that’s fine. Just make sure it’s good quality 100% cotton.”

  “I suggest you choose your border fabric first,” she continued while pointing to the border on the sample runner. “This will be your focus fabric, so buy something you like that has several colors in it. Then you can choose the other fabrics on your list to coordinate with your focus fabric.”

  “Ruth and I will be happy to help you with that today or anytime during the week. I like to prewash my fabric, but many other quilters don’t. You decide for yourself. At our next class, we will cut our fabric and begin sewing.”

  Frank had performed as well as everyone in the class, and Ruth was pleased. “I’d like to come in so you can help me pick out fabric you think my grandmother would like,” Frank said before leaving. “I’m not sure she would like what I do.”

  “I’d be happy to do that with you, Frank. In the meantime, I’d like for you to notice what colors she wears and look around at the colors in her house. See if you can figure out what her favorite colors are, okay?”

 

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