Everyone obliged him by raising their mugs or glasses, even though most were nearly empty.
Standing, Nigel raised his mug and regarded Julia fondly. “Thank you, Julia, for putting together such an exceptional outing for us so we may prepare for our final season in fine style.”
Julia managed a pained smile and nodded graciously.
“May we have a successful week, and leave better friends—and better quilters—than before.” He looked around the circle. “Here’s to Julia, and here’s to us all. We few, we happy few, we merry band of patchwork players!”
“Here’s to us,” Ellen cried, and a chorus of voices chimed in assent.
“Here’s to the Patchwork Players,” Julia declared, raising her mug, and this time her smile was unfeigned.
11
Early the next morning, Julia joined Ellen, Lindsay, Paige, and Edna for Olivia’s lively Zumba class in the children’s playroom on the third floor, which, as Sarah had promised, had a CD player, smooth hardwood floors, and plenty of space to move. After hurrying back to her suite to shower and change, Julia went down to the banquet hall to join a delicious buffet breakfast already in progress. She was pleased to see that everyone seemed to be in excellent spirits, well rested and eager to discover what the first day of class would bring.
As nine o’clock approached, Sylvia and Gretchen opened the double doors on the southern wall and invited the company to follow them into the ballroom, which took up almost the entire first floor of the newer wing of the manor. It looked entirely different by day than it had the night before by firelight, with autumn sunlight streaming through tall, narrow windows topped by semicircular curves lining the south, east, and west walls. A wide, carpeted border encircled a broad parquet dance floor, most of which was subdivided into classrooms by tall, movable partitions. Three crystal chandeliers hung high above from a ceiling covered with a swirling vine pattern of molded plaster. A dais on the far side of the room served as a stage for teachers, lecturers, or performers during the camp season, with a baby grand piano at center stage and a lectern at stage right.
On the wall opposite the dais stood the large fireplace where the company had gathered for Candlelight the previous evening. Since then the hearth had been swept clean and the metal log holder newly filled, no doubt evidence of Matt and Andrew’s early morning duties around the estate. The eighteen chairs from the ceremonial circle had been returned to the classrooms, but several armchairs and a love seat had been arranged cozily around the fireplace, and new logs were stacked for a fire, awaiting only the touch of a match.
Sylvia and Gretchen led their guests into one of the larger classrooms and invited everyone to choose a spot at any of the tables arranged in four rows of three. Each place was supplied with a green cutting mat, a pair of scissors, a clear acrylic ruler, a piece of sturdy card stock, and two well-sharpened pencils, one white and the other a standard No. 2. While the students took their places, the teachers went to a counter-height table at the front of the room, where several stacks of folded fabric and other supplies were arranged on top of a green cutting mat. Overhead, a large, rectangular mirror could be tilted to allow students to observe an instructor’s work on the tabletop. On an easel beside the table stood a poster-sized illustration of a Nine-Patch quilt in dark, muted hues. Since Julia already knew how to quilt, she took a seat in the back row so the newbies could enjoy the better view up front. Edna, the costume designer, claimed the second chair at Julia’s table, likely for the same reason.
When everyone was settled, Sylvia raised a hand for their attention. “Welcome to your first class at Elm Creek Quilt Camp,” she said as conversations quieted. She gestured to her companion. “Your instructor today will be Gretchen Hartley, whom you met at registration. I’ll be here to assist, so if you have any questions, you may call on either of us at any time.” With that, she nodded to Gretchen and made her way to the back of the classroom.
“Good morning and welcome,” Gretchen said, clasping her hands together and smiling around at her pupils as if she saw in each of them the potential to become a master quilter, or at least a more confidenthobbyist. She was in her late sixties—younger than Julia, although she looked a year or two older—with steel-gray hair cut in a pageboy and a thin frame that seemed whittled down by hard times. Clad in a cable-knit tan cardigan buttoned over an ivory blouse, a long, dark blue corduroy skirt, and sensible shoes, Gretchen seemed perfectly cast in the role of teacher. Julia had taken classes from her before, and she liked her very much for her quiet, thoughtful manner and kindness, through which a core of decency and strength was evident. Though Gretchen was one of the newer members of the faculty, she was one of their most experienced quilters, having taken her first lessons from none other than Sylvia herself as a high school student in Ambridge, Pennsylvania. As far as Julia could tell, Gretchen’s knowledge of and love for traditional quilting surpassed those of anyone at Elm Creek Manor, perhaps even Sylvia herself.
“I understand you all want to learn how to quilt as Sadie Henderson would have done back in the day,” said Gretchen. “Except for a few necessary modern flourishes—electric lights in the classroom, acrylic rulers, and stainless-steel pins and scissors, for example—we’re going to do precisely that as we make a quilt together.” She indicated the illustration on the easel. “This quilt, to be precise.”
“We’re going to make an entire quilt in less than a week?” asked Lindsay, who, having lived with a quilter most of her life, knew exactly how daunting a challenge that could be.
“That’s the goal, but we probably won’t finish it entirely,” Gretchen acknowledged. “We’ll definitely piece the top, layer and baste it, and begin quilting. We’ll also have you practice binding a quilted top we’ve already made, so you’ll know how to complete your quilt after you return home.”
“Quilting bee at Julia’s,” Olivia sang out, glancing over her shoulder to grin at her.
“Splendid idea,” said Nigel.
“Please say yes, Miss Julia,” Paige implored. “You throw the best parties.”
“Fine, just invite yourselves over,” Julia said, feigning exasperation, but she couldn’t hold back a smile. “Yes, let’s definitely plan on a quilting bee at my place soon after we return home.”
“First things first,” Gretchen said, amused, and everyone swiveled back around in their chairs to give her their attention. “One of the most important parts of the quilt-making process is choosing a pattern or design. We’ve taken the liberty of choosing for you—call it a teacher’s prerogative. We’re going to make Nine-Patch blocks.” She held up a simple block of nine small squares arranged in a three-by-three grid, five squares of maroon floral calico in the corners and the center, and four of unbleached muslin in the spaces that remained.
“That doesn’t seem terribly difficult,” Nigel remarked. “We should all manage quite nicely.”
“Speak for yourself, in any accent you like,” said the production assistant. “To me, that looks really hard to make.”
“It isn’t, once you know the basic steps,” Gretchen assured her. “Speaking of steps, after you’ve selected a pattern, you must choose suitable fabrics.” She paused to consider. “Actually, sometimes a quilterfirstfinds an absolutely wonderful fabric andthensearches through pattern books to find the perfect block to show it off, but it’s usually the other way around.”
Julia nodded, thinking of the fabric Donna had chosen for the Cross-Country Quilters’ first challenge quilt, a beautiful print of burgundy, loden green, and purple autumn leaves on a rich beige background, exquisitely drawn and highlighted with silver ink. Even Megan, who for some unfathomable reason didn’t like the color purple, found it lovely to work with.
“When quilters choose fabrics for a quilt, they usually think first of color and print,” Gretchen continued. “However, it’s just as important to consider value.”
“‘Value’?” Paige echoed. “Do you mean like how expensive the fabric is, like, silk versus polyester?”
“No, although you raise an important point,” said Gretchen.“We’re going to be using one hundred percent cotton fabric. Most quilters prefer cotton, unless they’re making an art piece that calls for a more eclectic mix. You’re likely to get better results if you use better-quality cottons, such as those you would find at a quilt shop. Unfortunately, the fabrics available at big box stores are often of a looser weave and lower thread count, and the dyes may be less colorfast. Quilts made from poorer quality fabrics tend to show more wear and tear and fading over time.”
Beside Julia, Edna nodded emphatically in assent. She probably ran into the same issues in making costumes.
“Although I do encourage you to use good-quality fabrics, that’s not what I mean by value,” said Gretchen. “To the quilter, value refers to how dark or light a color is, how much black or white has been added to a hue. It’s important to include contrasting values in a quilt so the block pattern can be seen. We describe a fabric’s value as dark, medium, or light.” She held up a LeMoyne Star block with four star points of pink and four of green against a white background. “In this example, the green fabric reads as dark, the pink as medium, and the white as light. The eight-pointed star is crisp and clear, easily visible.” Setting the block on the table, she picked up a second LeMoyne Star block, with what appeared to be star points of light beige and ecru on an ivory background. “In this example, all three fabrics have a light value.” She studied the block. “I suppose the ecru isalmostmedium, or medium light. Even so, there’s very little contrast, so the eight-pointed star design is difficult to see. From a distance you might miss it entirely.”
