“That was abrupt,” Vinnie remarked. “Maybe she has something in the oven.”
“She’s right, though. I really should go,” Julia said. “Thank you for the birthday wishes. You’re the best friends I could ever wish for.”
“We know,” said Vinnie cheerily. “Bye now!”
Still smiling, Julia hung up and hurried off to get ready. The evening was cool, relative to late September in California, and she had just finished lighting the fire in the great room when a knock sounded on the door. Smoothing her hair as she hurried to answer, she opened the door—only to gasp at the sight of Nigel not accompanied by two fellows she had never met, but by Ellen, Lindsay, Olivia, Noah, and Chance, plus Ellen’s longtime boyfriend and the young starlet from the Disney Channel whom Noah had been dating, off and on, for the past three years. Each one was grinning broadly, clearly pleased with themselves for so dumbfounding her.
“Surprise, Julia, darling,” Nigel sang, kissing her on the cheek as he swept past her into the house, his arms full of reusable grocery bags from his favorite Spanish bistro.
Olivia was right behind him, and she kissed Julia’s cheek too. “Happy birthday, Julia,” she said. “May all your birthday wishes come true.” Julia thanked her with a quick, warm embrace. Although they played fierce rivals on the show, Olivia was one of the friendliest people Julia had ever met. She was in her mid-thirties, and once, early in their acquaintance, after Julia had fretted that the age difference between them was so obvious that no one would ever believe Ben would prefer Sadie to Charity, Olivia had refused to accept that. “You’re gorgeous, and with you playing her, Sadie is compelling and desirable. Of course Ben prefers her.” That staunch defense had endeared her to Julia forever.
“Happy birthday, Julia,” Noah said, his arm slung with casual affection over the starlet’s shoulders. She echoed his words prettily, wobbling slightly on her platform shoes.
“You remembered my birthday?” Julia asked, her surprise fading as she held open the door wider so they all could troop in.
“Of course. It’s the same date as last year,” said Ellen, lugging a box of wine bottles and flavored seltzers, appearing slightly wounded by the suggestion that she would not keep track of such an important occasion.
“My mom reminded me a month ago,” Lindsay confessed, pausing to clasp Julia’s hand and kiss her cheek. “Happy birthday!”
That explained Donna’s haste to end the call. Lindsay must have told her that instead of Nigel and two companions, a crowd of unexpected guests were planning to descend on Julia’s home.
Soon Nigel was mixing up sangria while Ellen poured seltzers for the teetotalers and the underaged. Julia raced to add a few more place settings to the table while Noah and Chance unpacked the take-out containers and the starlet searched Julia’s kitchen drawers for serving utensils. Then they gathered around the table, where they regaled Julia with the birthday song and made amusing toasts in her honor. Over shared small plates of stuffed olives,gambas al ajillo, a variety of empanadas,albóndigaswith mushrooms,patatas bravaswith lemon aioli, andberenjenas con miel, they talked and teased and reminisced, until Julia was full and her face ached from smiling.
This, she thought as she gazed affectionately around the table at her friends and the plus-ones. This was everything and all that mattered. Why would anyone let it slip through their fingers in their eagerness to seize some shiny new trinket?
Afterward, as they headed to the theater room to watch the latest episode ofA Patchwork Life, Julia’s hopes soared at such irrefutable evidence of how much they all adored the show and their castmates. One week at Elm Creek Quilt Camp and they would remember what they had, how precious it was, and why they should hold on to it.
Now everything depended upon convincing Sylvia to give her blessing to their actors’ quilting boot camp.
The next morning, Julia asked her assistant to track down the very best florist shop in the Elm Creek Valley, which, according to her trusted sources, was Sweet Briar Floral of Summit Pass, Pennsylvania. Julia ordered an arrangement to be delivered to Elm Creek Manor the following morning, a lovely autumnal bouquet of blue delphiniums, blush and yellow roses, and burgundy smoke bush leaves in a crystal vase. Next, preferring the personal touch of a handwritten note, she addressed an elegant card to “My dear friends at Elm Creek Orchards,” saying, “Warm congratulations and all best wishes for your grand opening. Your friend and admirer, Julia Merchaud.” She added a postscript, especially for Sylvia: “Please call me tonight to let me know how your premiere went. I’d also like to discuss a small matter of business with you.” She sealed the envelope and overnighted it to the florist, having obtained his assurances that he would wait until he received the card and deliver it with the bouquet.
Then all Julia could do was wait.
On Saturday, she still had plenty of birthday emails and phone calls to respond to, as well as her daily self-care routine and a few work-related tasks to complete, but even then she had too much time to fill with clock watching and worst-case-scenario plotting. She was tempted to phone the manor, but Sarah had urged her not to, and it was very likely that the Elm Creek Quilters and resident husbands were preoccupied with managing the vast crowds of apple pluckers wandering happily through the orchards on their grand opening day. Julia hoped they would be much too busy to answer the phone, even if that meant she would have to wait until Sylvia called her.
When her phone finally rang just as she was sitting down to dinner—farro with blistered cherry tomatoes and spinach, courtesy of her personal chef—her heart thumped to see a familiar area code in the caller ID. She took a steadying breath and picked up on thesecond ring. “Sylvia, darling,” Julia greeted her, her voice warm and mellifluous. “How was your grand premiere?”
“Very grand indeed,” Sylvia replied, “as befitting that gorgeous bouquet you sent. Thank you, dear, on behalf of us all.”
“You’re very welcome. So you had a good turnout? Apples were plucked, fun was had?”
“Oh, absolutely. Attendance well exceeded my most optimistic expectations. We had to stay open twenty minutes past closing to ring up all the sales. If this keeps up throughout the harvest, we should earn a very handsome profit.”
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations.” Julia sighed wistfully. “I do wish I could have been there. You make it sound like such fun. Unfortunately, I think the harvest will be over by the time I return to Elm Creek Manor.”
“This year’s harvest will be, but not to worry. The Zestar and Ginger Gold will be ripe and ready for picking when you and the other Cross-Country Quilters arrive for your annual reunion next August.”
“As a matter of fact,” Julia remarked, teasing out the phrase, “I’m hoping to return much sooner than that, which brings me to that small matter of business I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. What can I do for you?”
“First, the good news. Filming will begin on the sixth season ofA Patchwork Lifeearly next year.”
“Congratulations, Julia,” Sylvia said. “That’s very good news for all of us. Sarah, Gretchen, and I gather around the television in the parlor for a watch party every week without fail. We very much enjoyed this season’s premiere.”
“Thank you,” Julia replied, pleased. “Actually, I directed that one.”
“Well done, dear. And the bad news? It’s hard to imagine how there could be any.”
