Lindsay had officially broken off the engagement by then. When filming wrapped on the Kansas set and the cast and crew headed back to Los Angeles to shoot interiors at the studio and outdoor scenes that didn’t require snow, Lindsay returned to Minnesota. She arranged to meet Brandon to return his ring, choosing a restaurant near campus favored by professors and students from the medical school. Since losing his temper in front of his colleagues could ruin his professional aspirations, Brandon contented himself with shoving the ring in his pocket and snarling, “Fine. You were never good enough for me, anyway.”
Lindsay wasted no more words on him. She rose, walked to her car without looking back, and drove home to visit her father and sister before catching an evening flight to LAX.
Julia had invited Donna and Lindsay to stay with her while they were in Southern California. By day, they worked together at the Culver City back lot or on the outdoor set in Malibu Creek State Park in Calabasas. On weekends Julia escorted them around to the iconic tourist destinations they were most eager to see—the Hollywood sign, the Chinese Theatre, and the Walk of Fame—or to her own favorite scenic places known only to locals. In the evenings they might relax by Julia’s pool, or Julia and Donna would work on their challenge quilt blocks while Lindsay read, chatted with her friends on the phone, or watched classic films in the theater room. Lindsay smiled indulgently whenever she came upon Julia and Donna reminiscing fondly about Elm Creek Quilt Camp. “I think you two would move in permanently if you could,” she teased, and neither denied it.
Julia was forlorn when shooting wrapped, the film went into post-production, and Donna and Lindsay returned to Minnesota. Except for her housekeeper and gardener, a widow and her son who resided in the guesthouse, Julia had lived alone since her second divorce, and she had forgotten how pleasant companionship could be. Thoughts of her upcoming reunion with the Cross-Country Quilters at Elm Creek Quilt Camp offered some consolation, and she rewarded herself for surviving Deneford and Rowan with a week at Aurora Borealis, her favorite spa. But when she returned home, pampered and refreshed, awaiting her was a curt, cryptic note from Deneford summoning her and Ares to a meeting.
Ellen had been called in too, Julia discovered when she and Ares arrived at the studio two days later, along with the other lead actors, their agents, and an excessive number of assistants. Deneford wasted no time in pleasantries before breaking the bad news: A test audience of men aged eighteen to thirty-five had viewed an early cut, and they didn’t like it.
“Since when is our intended audience eighteen-to-thirty-five-year-old men?” asked Ellen, bewildered.
“Excellent question,” said Julia.
“Obviously we had hoped for a better response, but I’m confident that the film is salvageable. Sorry, people, but that means we reshoot.” Ignoring the groans, Deneford looked to Ellen, slouching unhappily in her chair at the far end of the table. “Is your calendar clear for rewrites?”
“Clear enough,” she said. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what sort of changes did you have in mind?”
“I’ve decided to ax all the quilting stuff.”
Julia started. “I beg your pardon?”
“We’re going to lose the quilting.” Deneford regarded her, brow furrowed. “Surely you don’t have a problem with that. Now you won’t have to admit to the world you hired a stunt quilter for your scenes.”
“I could live with that,” Julia said. “Stephen, do you really think such a drastic change is necessary? Quilting is the metaphor that binds the entire story together.”
“Not to mention that it’s how Sadie supports her family and saves her farm,” Ellen added.
“I had some thoughts about that, too,” Deneford said. “Our test audience thought earning money from quilting was, well, a little tame. I decided she’ll run a bordello instead.”
Deneford’s assistant held up his hands as if framing a sign. “ThinkLittle House on the PrairiemeetsDie HardmeetsPretty Woman.”
Ellen blanched. “You’re going to make Sadie Henderson a prostitute?”
“At least at first,” Deneford said. “Later, when the money starts rolling in, she’ll become the madam.”
That proved to be too much for Ellen, who couldn’t bear to see her great-grandmother’s life story so distorted. Julia knew her only options were to cooperate with Deneford or quit, so she followed Ellen out the door.
Afterward, Julia’s role was entirely recast and only a few glimpses of Donna’s quilting made it to the final cut, but Lindsay’s name still appeared in the credits. More important, time and distance had given Lindsay perspective, rekindling her creative aspirations as well as herconfidence. In August, when the Cross-Country Quilters reunited at Elm Creek Quilt Camp, Julia was thrilled when Donna announced that Lindsay had decided to return to college. Not only that, she was transferring to the University of Southern California, where she had been accepted into the School of Cinematic Arts.
Lindsay’s training at USC included internships on other feature films. After she earned her degree, Julia was all too happy to take her on as a production assistant forA Patchwork Life. Before long Lindsay worked her way up to assistant director, which led to other opportunities in television and movies. The gig withAmerica’s Back Roadswas only the most recent, and Julia was certain Lindsay would soar even higher in the years to come.
But that didn’t mean it was time to leaveA Patchwork Lifebehind.
Julia reached the café five minutes late thanks to the traffic on the 101, but she still arrived before Lindsay. It was such a beautiful day that she asked for a table in the courtyard, where a pergola offered just the right amount of shade. A tall, encircling hedge of bougainvillea reminded Julia fondly of the cornerstone patio at Elm Creek Manor.
She was sipping a cup of honey chamomile tea when Lindsay arrived in a rush. “Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly, dropping into the chair opposite Julia’s. “You know how it is when you plan a day’s shoot.”
“All too well. You stay on schedule for the first five minutes, but then you’re at the mercy of the weather, the performers, technical difficulties—” Julia waved a hand airily. “Believe me, I get it.”
“In this case, the interview had just taken a very interesting turn and I couldn’t bear to cut him off. Did you order yet?”
“Just the tea so far. But I know what I want.”
Lindsay quickly skimmed the menu, and when the server approached, they both ordered salads and a plate of goat cheese and arugula flatbread to share, and Lindsay asked for a cappuccino. “So what’s going on?” she asked, lowering her voice confidentially, her smile suggesting concern as well as curiosity. “Why do you need my help?”
“First, the bad news. Nigel, Ellen, Noah, and Chance are all planning to leave the show.”
“Oh, so it’s official?”
