“But if my daughter’s job is in jeopardy—”
“It isn’t. We have an entire season yet to shoot. Lindsay still has a year’s worth of paychecks coming.” Julia thought quickly. “Obviously Lindsay isn’t worried or she would have called you, right?”
“Well...” Donna hesitated. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Then why stress her out about something that might be nothing, especially with the Emmys coming up?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that,” said Donna. “Okay, I won’t say anything. Lindsay should enjoy the ceremony and the parties without worrying about unemployment looming on the horizon.”
“It isn’t looming,” Julia insisted, but she doubted Donna believed her.
Three days later, when her phone rang on the morning of the Emmys and she glimpsed Lindsay’s number in the caller ID, she felt a frisson of dread. What if Donna’s worries had gotten the better of her, and she had passed on her anxiety to her daughter? But to Julia’s relief, her young friend greeted her cheerfully, thanking her again for the invitation and chatting happily about her gown, the expensive jewelry she had borrowed from a friend, and her upcoming appointment at the salon so she would look red carpet ready. “Anyway,” Lindsay eventually said, “I’m actually calling about a work thing.”
“The Emmysarea work thing when your show is nominated,” Julia reminded her.
“True. But this question comes from production design. In episode four, when Sadie is stuck overnight at Ben’s ranch, he offers herhis bed while he takes a quilt on the floor in front of the fireplace in the other room—”
“And neither Sadie nor Ben can sleep, kept awake by longing. Yes, I remember the scene.”
“The question is about Ben’s quilt. It isn’t vintage. The prop master had it made using reproduction fabrics.”
“That’s what I assumed, given its good condition. I think I mentioned that I saw an antique quilt using the same block in an exhibit at the Waterford Historical Society last August.”
“Yes, I remembered that, which is why I’m calling. Production design wants us to confirm that the pattern definitely would have existed in Sadie’s day. I don’t know the block name, so I couldn’t look it up.”
Julia closed her eyes and thought. She could picture the quilt hanging on the Union Hall gallery wall vividly, but her memory of the description offered on the object placard was a bit vague. “I know it was called the Sugar Camp Quilt, but I can’t remember the block name.”
“Do you remember when it was made?”
“Not off the top of my head, but I brought home an exhibit program.” Pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she began opening desk drawers and leafing through papers. “Let me look for it and I’ll get back to you. We won’t have to cut those scenes if the quilt pattern turns out to be a historical anomaly, will we?”
“That’ll be up to the director, but personally I think the scenes are too good to lose. We’ll just have to brace ourselves for an onslaught of corrections from sharp-eyed viewers.”
“Great. Well, maybe we’ll get lucky. I’ll do my best to have an answer for you before I swing by in the limo to pick you up for the Emmys.”
Lindsay squealed. “I’m sorry,” she said, laughing at herself. “I know I should be able to play it cool by now, but I will nevernotbe excited to be whisked off to the Emmys in a limo.”
“I sincerely hope not,” said Julia. The world was already overfull with the bored and the cynical. She hoped Lindsay would always retain her sense of wonder and delight.
Julia was certain she had saved a program, but she also had a vague memory of autographing it for a grateful fan as she and Vinnie left the gallery. When after a good twenty minutes neither she nor her assistant nor her housekeeper could find it, and with her stylist reminding her with increasing urgency of her appointments for hair, makeup, and mani-pedi, Julia abandoned the search. While her stylist paced the length of her study, stealing increasingly frantic glances at her watch, Julia composed a quick email to Summer Sullivan, the exhibit’s curator and the youngest founding Elm Creek Quilter. Explaining their hope to avoid historical anachronism, she asked for the date the Sugar Camp Quilt had been made, the name of the block that figured most prominently in it, and the year the block had been invented or its earliest known appearance in existing quilts or in print. Julia closed by asking Summer to give her best to all the Elm Creek Quilters, and almost as a postscript, asked how things were going at Elm Creek Manor now that quilt camp was over for the year. She honestly had no idea how the Elm Creek Quilters filled their hours during the offseason. Quilting and planning for the next year of camp, probably, she mused as she clicked send and put her computer to sleep.
“I’m all yours for the next few hours,” she promised her stylist as she rose. Julia knew well that it was as important to look fabulous when losing an award as when she won, perhaps even more so.
But maybe she ought to jot down a quick acceptance speech, just in case.
5
On the way to pick up Lindsay, Julia hastily scribbled a few notes on an index card and tucked it into her sequined clutch just as the limo pulled up in front of the young woman’s apartment. Lindsay must have been watching from the lone front window, for she promptly stepped outside and descended the stairs carefully, holding on to the railing for balance. She was so strikingly beautiful, even in a region packed with young, blond starlets, that Julia could only gaze at her admiringly as she approached, graceful even in the uncharacteristically high heels.
“You look lovely,” Julia exclaimed when the driver opened the door and helped her inside.
That was an understatement. With her blond hair upswept to reveal her elegant neck and shoulders, Lindsay was absolutely radiant in a vintage Christian Dior gown of rose silk with a draped bodice and full skirt. “Thanks. It’s the dress,” she said breathlessly as she settled into the limo next to Julia, her eyes bright with nervous excitement. “I got it secondhand at Paper Bag Princess. It cost me a month’s pay, but I’ll wear it again the next time I’m invited to a fabulous gala.”
“You might not be able to. The paparazzi and the press are goingto think you’re a movie star. I wouldn’t be surprised if your photo is everywhere tomorrow.”
“Do you really think so?” For a moment Lindsay looked taken aback, but she quickly shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care how many people see me in this tonight. Girls from Minnesota don’t buy a couture gown, even secondhand, and wear it only once.”
“This girl from Iowa does.”
