I thought it was odd that the fabric shop wouldn't advertise a sweepstakesinsidethe store, but I had to admit, it piqued my interest.
"Do I have to pay to enter?" I asked suspiciously.
"Nope. Totally free! You know what? Me and Poppy will enter, too. That gives you more chances to win. Obviously, we'd giveyouthe prize if we won, our dearest quilter."
"We will?" Poppy asked softly. His brow creased in confusion.
Muzo put his arm around Poppy's shoulder. "Yeah, definitely! I mean, don't weallwin when our friend does?"
"Um... I suppose," Poppy murmured.
Muzo gasped. "Pops. I am shocked. Youdon'twant Taylor to win a fabulous prize?"
Poppy blinked and stammered, "I-I didn't say that!"
"You want him to run out of fabrics. And needles. And yarn."
"Quilting doesn't involve yarn," I grumbled.
Muzo went on, giving Poppy a serious glance. "And whatever else quilters need. Is that what you want, Poppy? You want Taylor to suffer?"
"No!" Poppy cried, as if this was an actual concern.
"Then it's settled. All three of us will enter our names into the quilting sweepstakes." He thrust a fist into the air. "For Taylor!"
People were starting to stare at Muzo's loudmouthed antics.
I sighed. "Okay, don't make a scene about it. Give me the paper."
Muzo thrust it over. The card stock was thick and creamy, the font bold. The text was stark black with gilded borders. Whoever had organized the sweepstakes clearly spared no expense for these entry cards.
Which was odd, because quilting wasn't a particularly flashy hobby.
I looked at the card closer. The bottom and sides were crisp, but the top of the card was feathered, almost like it'd been torn off.
"Mine's like that, too," Muzo said, waving his own identical card. "It must be a design choice. It's thematically appropriate. It marries the robust nature of fabrics with the clean lines in your big patchwork quilts."
I rolled my eyes. Now he was talking out of his ass, as usual. The sooner I put my name on this card and threw it in the running, the better.
"Yours is like that, too, right, Pops?" Muzo asked.
Poppy fiddled with the card in his hand. It too had the same feathered top and crisp edges. "Right..."
Muzo nodded firmly. "See? Design choice."
"Whatever. Give me a pen," I said.
Muzo handed it to me. I scanned the card. The only details it wanted were my name and contact information.
I glanced at Muzo. In the years I'd known him, the sneaky jackal could be... less than truthful. But his white lies never came to any real harm. Even if this entry card was suspicious, I doubted it involved anything dangerous. My best guess was that Muzo wanted to win a prize and needed two extra entries.
In that case, why didn't he just ask? Dumb dog.
I wrote down my name and information, handed Muzo the entry, then promptly forgot about the probably fictitious sweepstakes.
Two
Crimson
