“I’d be happy to spend a week at Elm Creek Manor, but I wish we were going to quilt camp to improve our skills, without any other agenda. I don’t like inviting our friends under false pretenses.”
“Then don’t,” said Julia airily as she sprinkled balsamic vinaigrette on her salad. “Invite them for the quilt camp experience alone. I’ll be the one with the ulterior motives. Your conscience is clear.”
Lindsay eyed her, skeptical, and helped herself to a piece of flatbread. Yet by the time they finished lunch, Lindsay had agreed to attend quilt camp and to recruit other campers from among the production crew. Julia would see to the cast. “And I’ll talk to Ellen as well,” she added as they were walking to their cars. “She’s in production, not in the cast, but we have a history.”
Theyallhad a history, and if Julia’s scheme worked—whenit worked—they would make more of it together.
8
The next morning, after checking the production schedule to confirm that Ellen would be spending most of the day toiling in the writer’s room, Julia drove to the studio and gracefully ambushed her friend in the hallway when the team broke for lunch. “Hey, Julia,” Ellen greeted her, surprised. “What brings you in today? If you’re here to help us fill in some plot holes, you’re right on time.”
“Thanks, but for the sake of the show, I’m going to give that a hard pass. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind joining me in the commissary.”
“As long as you don’t expect me to eat there.”
“It’s notthatbad,” Ellen said as they headed down the hallway. It was, actually, but Julia let it go in favor of her elevator pitch for Elm Creek Quilt Camp. Ellen listened thoughtfully as they crossed the sunny back lot, entered the cafeteria, and moved through the line, Ellen selecting a salad, bran muffin, and diet ginger ale, Julia taking only a sparkling water. Julia omitted all references to her ulterior motives and the quilt camp’s financial struggles. Summer was in enough trouble with Sylvia already without Julia spreading the company’s confidential information any further.
“The training would be useful,” Ellen mused as they found a table near a sunny window with a view of a cactus and bromeliad garden.“Some of our actors allow their skills to languish between seasons. Their quilting isn’t as precise or fluid as it would have been for women of that era who quilted often.”
“And some of our actors have never learned to quilt,” Julia reminded her.
“We’d have more flexibility with our camera angles if all of the women could quilt well, especially during our scenes around the quilt frame.” Then she shook her head. “I agree it’s a great idea, but is a retreat like this in the production budget?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”
“Out of your own pocket? Julia—”
“I said, don’t worry about it,” Julia said, laughing lightly. “I’m an executive producer. Securing funding is in my job description. As far as I’m concerned, anything that improves the quality and historical accuracy of the series is money well spent.”
“Careful you don’t say that too close to the writers’ room or everyone will ask for a raise.” Ellen glanced at her watch, gave a little start, and quickly dug into her salad. “Yes, I think you should do it. It’s wonderful that the Elm Creek Quilters are willing to put on a special session just for you.”
“You mean forus. You’re coming along. When I said cast and crew, I was including our writers.”
“I don’t know, Julia,” said Ellen, wincing. “I tried to learn to quilt when I first read my great-grandmother’s diaries. I barely mastered the running stitch, and my quilting stitches were appalling. They were huge, and no two were the same size.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad, but that was only your first quilt. You would’ve improved if you’d attempted another. Besides, that was ages ago, and you didn’t have the Elm Creek Quilters as your teachers.”
“Well, no, I didn’t,” Ellen acknowledged. “I admit your stories about Elm Creek Manor have intrigued me. How wonderful it must be to take a week each year to escape the daily grind and focus on yourcreativity and artistic expression in such a beautiful, historic setting. I’ve been just a tiny bit envious of you.”
“Why envy me when you could join me? While the rest of us are quilting, you could wander off to some quiet, comfortable spot and write. The library, maybe. Think of it—bookcases lining the walls, their shelves filled with enticing volumes, a fire crackling on the hearth, autumn sunshine streaming through the tall windows, a cup of mulled cider steaming on the table beside your pen and paper—”
“I write on my computer.”
“On the table beside your laptop, creative inspiration all around you,” Julia finished. “Just imagine how the experience would enrich your writing. You could learn so much about quilt history and folklore from Sylvia even if you don’t sew a single stitch all week.”
“It would be nice to have hours of uninterrupted time to work on the outline for season six.” Ellen grimaced. “I’m especially concerned about the last episode. A series finale has to accomplish so much that it’s almost impossible to satisfy viewers.”
“You could run ideas past Sylvia and the other Elm Creek Quilters while you’re there. And just think about how much you could accomplish with someone else preparing gourmet meals for you three times a day.”
“And cleaning up afterward.”
“Plus, you’ll have access to a vast library and an expert faculty ready and willing to advise you on all aspects of quilt artistry and history.”
Suddenly Ellen drew in a breath, eyes widening. “Wait. That quilt you and your friends are making, your reproductions of that antique sampler—”
“?‘Harriet’s Journey’?”
