Birds in the Air by Frances O'Roark Dowell

Author:Frances O'Roark Dowell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Quilting, North Carolina, Women, Friendship
Publisher: Milton Falls Media, Inc.
Published: 2016-09-07T20:44:32.304000+00:00

Chapter 15

By ten the next morning, Emma is dressed and at her desk, drinking chamomile tea and occasionally remembering to take deep, healing breaths. She’s just printed out an email from Barbara detailing all the quilts that need to be collected when the doorbell rings. Can she ignore it? Hide under her desk until the unwelcome guest goes away?

But maybe it’s Mavis again — Mavis, her comrade and support staff. She stopped by earlier this morning on her way to drop off two grandchildren at preschool, responding in person to Emma’s texted cry for help.

“We got this covered, honey, don’t you worry,” Mavis promised. “I called Barbara and told her I’ll collect quilts from all my relations, which means I’ve got half the county covered. Now what you need to do is get in touch with Lettie and get her to help you do the rest. That girl knows about quilts and she knows everybody from here to Roan Mountain.”

“I don’t know,” Emma said. “She’s awfully busy.”

“She’s busy, but she likes to do a good turn, and she’d surely be an asset. Before Lettie started working third shift, she used to run the Medical Mobile all over the place. If nothing else, she’ll keep you from getting lost. But she knows a lot of the folks around here and could make introductions, kinda ease your way through the front door. Fact is, there’s a few folks who are pretty quick to pull out a shotgun if they’ve never seen your face before.”

Emma leaned against the doorframe, suddenly feeling faint. Shotguns? Barbara never said anything about shotguns.

Mavis didn’t seem to notice Emma’s concern. “Just as soon as I drop off my babies at school, I’m going to text you Lettie’s number. And don’t you worry none about getting shot. I don’t think anyone would actually shoot you per se. Now if you’ve got Lettie with you, you’re good as gold.”

That had been two hours ago. Maybe Mavis had texted Lettie, and Lettie was here to help. But when Emma opens the door, it’s not her young neighbor waiting on the other side. The woman on the front porch is in her fifties, maybe early sixties — she’s wearing sunglasses despite an overcast sky, so it’s hard to tell — her blonde hair streaked through with gray. She’s dressed in jeans and a denim jacket over a black tee shirt with silver lettering that reads Foxy Mama. Emma smells cigarette smoke the second she steps through the doorway, though the woman isn’t smoking.

“Well, hey there, girl, I’m your new neighbor,” the woman says in a husky voice. “Or maybe I should say your new former neighbor.” She sticks out a hand. “I’m Angie Byers, and I’m sure you’ve heard all about me.”

Emma offers a limp handshake. Is she about to be robbed? Beat up? Hit up for money? Really, how much worse can her morning get? “I’m Emma,” she says after she realizes she’s been standing there for several seconds with her mouth hanging open.

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