“Dis a good book,” Caroline said to Nigel, holdings up hers, arms outstretched, leaning over so far to give him a better look that she would have toppled off her mother’s lap except that Sarah instinctively grabbed her with both arms.
“I’m sure it’s a delightful story, my dear Miss Caroline,” said Nigel earnestly, “but sadly, it isn’t what I’m looking for.”
Caroline squirmed down from her mother’s lap, tucked the book under her arm, and toddled over to Nigel. “Dis a good book too,” she said firmly, taking his hand as if to lead him to the sofa, although when he didn’t budge, she was limited to tugging on his arm.
“I think she wants you to read to her,” Julia said, amused. “Your line is, ‘I’d be delighted to read you a story, my dear.’?”
“But I wanted to—” Nigel broke off as Caroline nodded solemnly up at him and held out the book, confirming Julia’s interpretation. Muffling a sigh, he accepted the offering. “The Tale of Peter Rabbit,” he noted, glancing at the cover. “A somewhat abridged version of the classic, but a classic nonetheless. Very well. Lead on.”
Caroline smiled and led him to the sofa, where she waited for him to be seated before scrambling up beside him.
“If you don’t do distinct voices for each character I’ll be terribly disappointed,” Julia teased.
Nigel gave her a sidelong look, mildly affronted. “As if I woulddo otherwise.” He opened the book and held it so Caroline could easily see the illustrations. “?‘Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter.’?”
As Nigel continued reading, Sarah rose from the desk and came to stand beside Julia. “How is camp going so far?” she asked softly. If Caroline heard, she was too entranced by the story to look up. “Are you and your friends enjoying the class?”
“Everything has been absolutely perfect,” Julia assured her. “We’re all having a wonderful time. I can’t thank you enough for accommodating us in the offseason.”
“It’s my pleasure, believe me,” said Sarah. “Your generosity bought us a new roof and then some.”
Julia was very glad to hear it. “All I did was to offer a reasonable fee for the expert education, accommodations, and services Elm Creek Quilts offers. You could have charged more and I would have paid it willingly.”
Sarah stifled a laugh. “I’ll remember that the next time a group of Hollywood stars wants to book a getaway week.” Then her smile dimmed. “I’ve wanted to extend our season into the fall for years, and given our current financial issues, it’s almost a necessity. If this trial run is a success, Sylvia may finally give me her blessing.”
“So you’re saying there’s more at stake than whether our merry band of players quilts flawlessly in season six?” Julia inquired, smiling to hide a sudden pang of worry.
Sarah hesitated. “I’m saying that I’m very grateful for this opportunity,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “If there’s anything more I can do to help you and your colleagues make the most of your visit to Elm Creek Quilt Camp, please let me know.”
“I will, but I honestly can’t think of a thing I’d ask you to do differently. At the end of the week, you’ll hear rave reviews from our entire company, I’m sure of it.”
Sarah thanked her with a smile, but there was strain around her eyes that Julia hadn’t noticed before.
When Nigel finished the story, Julia invited Sarah and Caroline to join them for lunch. Sarah thanked her but declined, explaining that she and Matt usually ate together in the kitchen with the twins, whose mealtime behavior was still rather unpredictable. “Matt and I don’t mind the occasional chaotic meal,” she added, swooping Caroline up in her arms, “but it’s not something we want to inflict on our guests.”
So Julia and Nigel went down to the banquet hall without them, where they served themselves from the tantalizing buffet and parted ways. Nigel had spotted a single unoccupied chair at Ellen’s table, and he was determined to claim it, while Julia was determined to spend time with colleagues other than her closest friends. During the regular season, the Elm Creek Quilters always dispersed among the campers rather than sitting at a table reserved for the faculty, the better to create a friendlier, more welcoming, more inclusive atmosphere, or so Donna had said a few years ago, and she had heard it directly from an Elm Creek Quilter. As the organizer of their quilting adventure, Julia felt more like one of the hosts than one of the campers when they weren’t in the classroom. If anyone wasn’t perfectly content, she wanted to know so she could resolve whatever problems there might be.
She was pleased to see an empty seat at Dylan’s table, so she joined him and four other members of the crew. They had been engrossed in conversation as she approached, but it trailed off awkwardly as she sat down. “What did I interrupt?” she asked, glancing around the table in mock alarm. “You’re not plotting to nominate me for a Razzie, are you?”
She was rewarded with a few chuckles, but no one rushed to answer. She tasted her salad and waited, eyebrows rising. “It’s a union matter,” Dylan eventually said. “And you’re a producer. You’re... management.”
“Oh, I get it.” Julia sipped her iced tea thoughtfully. “Fair enough, but I’m an actor first and foremost, and a proud union member myself. I bet I’ve walked more picket lines than the rest of you combined. So please, as you were. Carry on.”
Dylan laughed, and others smiled, and a few nodded thoughtfully. Tentatively at first, but then with their former enthusiasm, they resumed their friendly argument, with Julia occasionally chiming in with relevant information from her own union. They were so engrossed that they barely noticed the banquet hall emptying, and they might have lingered at the table far longer if Sylvia hadn’t come by to remind them that class was about to begin. Quickly, laughing at themselves, they hurried to the classroom and took their seats with not a moment to spare.
“Now that you’ve made your three rows, let’s sew them together,” Maggie said. “First, you’ll pin carefully along the drawn sewing line and use a running stitch to join the rows together, adding a backstitch at the beginning and the end. So far it sounds familiar, right?”
“Yes, but it can’t be that easy,” said Olivia. “What’s the catch?”
Maggie smiled. “When you reach a seam where you sewed two squares together to make the row, you have to handle it in a certain way. But don’t worry. It’s easy once you know the technique.”
She instructed them to pin their top row to the center row and to begin sewing, but to stop before they reached the first seam. When everyone had caught up, Maggie demonstrated how to abut the opposing seam allowances and sew through them. “If you’re sewing by machine, you can just sew right over the seam allowances,” she noted, “but a different technique is required for hand sewing.”
Slowly and carefully, holding her work so it was visible from the front and from above in the overhead mirror, Maggie sewed the top row to the center row right up to where the seam allowances met, where she made a backstitch. “On my next stitch, I just want to get to the other side of the seam allowance, so I’m not going to sew through both rows,” she emphasized. “Slip your needle into the sewing lineend point of your focus fabric square and out through the end point of the muslin square.” She demonstrated, pulling the thread all the way through and leaving the seam allowance free. “Make another backstitch to secure it, then continue your running stitch along the sewing line until you reach another one of those seam allowance junctions. Handle that one the same as you did the first.” She looked around the room expectantly. “Are you ready to give it a try?”
Most of the class had already begun, following along throughout Maggie’s demonstration. Julia deftly sewed through her first seam allowance and was well on her way to the second when Edna finished.
“Show off,” Julia teased.
