Quilt of Joy: Stories of Hope from the Patchwork Life by Mary Tatem

Author:Mary Tatem [Tatem, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2010-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Fabric Stealth

“I’ll never buy fabric in here again.” Adrian snatched her package off the counter and rushed out of the store before angry tears betrayed the extent of her hurt.

Nora followed her, more than a little embarrassed and disturbed by the altercation she witnessed between her friend and the discount store saleswoman.

“Once I bought the material, it belongs to me, and how I use it in my quilt is not the store’s business.” Adrian’s heels pounded the parking lot as she hurried along. “What I do with the material is my choice—and I made a good choice or my Tumbling Block quilt would not have been allowed as a juried entry in the contest for our town’s quilt show.”

Nora moved aside to stay out of the way of the bag of fabric that Adrian swung about in anger.

Adrian kept fuming: “The very idea of that clerk criticizing my fabric choice. These are the same colors I used for my juried entry because I’m going to make another one for a gift.” Tears won over her anger by the time she reached her car, slung her package of red polished cotton and matching calicos onto the backseat, and shoved the key into the ignition.

Nora ran to catch up and scrambled into the passenger seat. “I thought buying a couple of yards of that red chintz had the same effect on the saleswoman as it would on a bull in a bullpen,” she said. “I didn’t think she would let you buy it. She was rude.”

“It’s none of her business how I use my material.” Adrian continued to sputter her resentment and thrust the car into gear.

As Adrian sped out of the lot, Nora kicked off her shoes. She rubbed one foot. “Warn me when our itinerary includes racing across a parking lot to escape enraged saleswomen. I’ll wear tennis shoes.”

“Wear them tomorrow,” Adrian said. “We’ll walk our toes to nubs at the quilt show. I’ll pick you up early so we can get in before the crowds. I’m hoping my quilt wins an honorable mention, at least.”

The next morning, halfway down the first aisle, Adrian’s excited anticipation morphed into horror. Her beautiful Tumbling Block quilt hung in a prominent place, but instead of sporting an award, the wide red chintz border was discolored all along the bottom. Orange cones warning “wet floor” bracketed the quilt. Yellow crime tape stretched between them and held back a growing crowd. A docent squatted behind the tape, mopping liquid from the floor.

“I’m so sorry.” The president of Adrian’s quilt guild hurried over to her. “I wouldn’t have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it myself. Just minutes ago, right after opening, a woman ran in here and threw bleach on your quilt. Another lady identified her as a salesperson at the discount store. Police are going there now.”

A crowd gathered around. The onlookers all talked at once.

“I hope they charge her with vandalism.”

A tall lady agreed. “I’d be furious, if that was my quilt.”

Another patted Adrian’s shoulder.

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