“You did say you had some thoughts to share, and I’m very happy to listen.” Summer hesitated. “First, though, I told Sylvia that I’d mentioned our financial challenges to you. She wasn’t exactly pleased with me.”
“Really? Why?”
“She said she’s not comfortable ‘going hat in hand’ to our campers—”
“But that’s not what you did. I asked how things were going at Elm Creek Manor, and you simply told me the truth. You never asked for a thing.”
“That’s what I told Sylvia—very contritely, of course. She chided me a bit for discussing our finances without clearing it with her or Sarah first. And rightly so. It really wasn’t my place.” Summer sighed. “I should have known better, but I’ve become so used to asking for donations to Union Hall on behalf of the Waterford Historical Society that I didn’t think it through.”
“I didn’t breathe a word to anyone,” Julia assured her, grateful that she had trusted her instincts when tempted to confide in the Cross-Country Quilters. “Nor will I. Promise.”
“Good. Thank you. Sylvia also told me explicitly that I’m not to solicit donations, and Elm Creek Quilts isn’t taking on new investors at this time. I hope that doesn’t preempt whatever help you were going to offer. Because despite everything I just said, Elm Creek Quilts really could use a benefactor—but it can’t look like a gift, because Sylvia wouldn’t accept it.”
“That’s fine, actually, because I had something else in mind—a business proposition.” Julia took a deep, centering breath and plunged ahead. “After five seasons, several of our longtime cast members have let their quilting skills get a bit rusty. We’ve also added new cast and crew who’ve never learned to quilt, but ought to understand the fundamentals, at the very least. What we need are intensive, remedial quilt lessons before we begin filming season six in January.”
“January? So signing up for a week when camp resumes in March wouldn’t work for you.”
“No, that would be too late. Also, given our unusual circumstances, we would need an exclusive session—just our group, no other campers.”
“We’d have to schedule something during our offseason, then.”
“And instead of your usual wonderfully varied selection of classes, ours should focus only on techniques Sadie Henderson would have used in the eighteen eighties.”
“So you’re saying no longarm machine quilting workshops?” Summer teased.
“Definitely not. And I’m afraid your very popular Modern Quilting class is out too.”
“Right, because historical anomalies are frowned upon by your audience.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not a problem either. We could easily put together a program of classes in hand quilting, hand appliqué, and hand quilting using both a lap hoop and a frame. Your actors should be comfortable with both setups, just as real quilters of the era would have been.”
“Good thinking.” Julia blotted perspiration from her forehead, wishing she had remembered to wear a cap. “So what should our next step—”
“Excuse me,” a tentative voice spoke behind her. “Are you Julia Merchaud?”
Startled, Julia turned to find two remarkably fit thirtysomething women in black spandex with neon accents regarding her expectantly, hands on their hips, panting slightly from exertion as if they had run the entire ascent. “Yes,” she replied guardedly, moving the phone only slightly away from her ear.
“I knew it was you. I’m a huge fan. I loveA Patchwork Life,” the woman on the left gushed. “I mean, I lovedFamily Treetoo, butPatchwork—” She paced a hand on her heart and shook her head, eyes shining. “It really speaks to me.”
“Thank you,” said Julia, more warmly than before. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“Is Nigel Crawford as handsome in person as he is on TV?” the woman on the right asked, her eyes alight with eagerness.
Julia lowered her voice confidentially. “More.”
The two women fairly squealed. “I knew it,” the woman on the right exclaimed.
“Julia?” Summer asked, her voice faint.
Quickly Julia returned the phone to her ear. “Sorry, I’m still here.”
“Could I ask just one more question?” the woman on the left begged. “When are Sadie and Ben going to get together?”
“Are you trying to get me in trouble?” Julia protested, smiling as she lowered her phone again. “Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you.”
“But theyaregoing to get together?”
