She hit send and waited a few moments, then put the computerto sleep and left the room without looking back. Her time would be much better spent working on her Cross Plains block rather than staring morosely at the computer screen, refreshing her inbox every two minutes in hope and dread of her colleagues’ replies.
After an hour of pinning and sewing ridiculously small triangles and squares together, curiosity won out and she returned to check her email. To her relief, Ellen, Lindsay, Nigel, and Edna had already replied to say that they would attend. They had, in fact, replied to all, so that everyone else would understand that they were no longer subjecting Julia to the cut direct, casting her out of society.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she muttered.
She was just about to return to her sewing room when her computer pinged, alerting her to a new email from Ellen. “I thought you should know that Paige told the other campers that her agent said you marched into Deneford’s office and refused to leave until he agreed to cast her,” she wrote. “That must have been fun. I wish I’d been there to see it. I think it’s safe to say that all is forgiven.”
Julia fervently wanted to believe it, but until she heard from Paige, she couldn’t be sure.
She worked on her Cross Plains block throughout the afternoon, pausing occasionally to rest her fingers, to stretch, to discuss her next week’s schedule with her assistant, and to take a few phone calls from Maury. Dinner would be a solitary affair, delicious and healthy, thanks to her personal chef, but quiet and lonely compared to the convivial meals she had enjoyed among friends in the banquet hall of Elm Creek Manor.
On her way to the fridge to inspect her options, she paused once more to check her email. Her heart thudded when she discovered that Paige had replied.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Julia opened the email.
“I wouldn’t miss it!” Paige had written. “Don’t know about y’all but I need to practice quilting before we start filming. Should I bring anything for the buffet?”
Then, as if Paige’s acceptance had given everyone else permission, nearly all the other cast and crew had replied, most to say that they were coming, some to send their regrets and to demand that the attendees share photos and recaps afterward.
Overwhelmed with relief, Julia responded to say that they needn’t provide anything for the buffet, but if they had any favorite sewing tools, they should bring them along.
Then she sprang into action, mindful that it was almost end-of-business on a Friday and she had not a moment to lose.
She called her personal chef, who also ran a professional event catering business. After insisting upon paying a premium for the short notice, she arranged for a seasonal buffet that would make Chef Anna proud. Next she called her local quilt shop, and when she explained that she needed a state-of-the-art quilt frame, they gave her the contact information for their preferred distributer. She phoned the company, but when she identified herself, the man who answered the phone thought it was a prank and promptly hung up. She sighed and dialed again. This time she kept the fellow on the line long enough to convince him that yes, she wasthatJulia Merchaud, and yes, she needed a quilt frame for the real cast and crew ofA Patchwork Life, because yes, they actually were quilters, ranging from novice to experienced.
“I can have our best model delivered to your residence tomorrow afternoon,” he assured her, sounding a bit starstruck. “No charge.”
“No charge for delivery? That’s generous.”
“No, Miss Merchaud. I mean it’s all on the house.”
“Don’t be silly,” Julia exclaimed. “That’s a terrible business model. You have to let me pay you.”
But he wouldn’t hear of it. Eventually they agreed that she would write a letter praising the frame—as long as she genuinely could recommend it—which the company could use in a new advertising campaign. Maury wouldn’t approve of the arrangement, what with no contract and only the vaguest of terms, but Julia would sort thatout later. The important thing was that she would have a quilting frame and friends gathered around it in her great room in less than forty-eight hours.
The frame was delivered and assembled on Saturday afternoon. The following morning, when she was as ready as she would ever be, Julia paced in her great room, half expecting that no one would show up. Ellen had told her that all was forgiven, she reminded herself. Her friends had said they would be there. She just needed to have faith in them, and in herself.
The doorbell rang.
She flew to answer it. “Julia, my dear, you look lovely this morning,” Nigel purred, kissing her on both cheeks and showing off a bag filled with fixings for mimosas. Other friends were already coming up the front walk—Ellen and Lindsay, chatting happily; Dylan and a woman with waist-length, gray-streaked blond hair, presumably his wife; Noah and the pretty starlet from the Disney Channel, whose name Julia could never remember; and all the others. Julia urged them all inside, to help themselves to food and drink, or to slip on a thimble, thread a needle, and stitch to their heart’s content. The Patchwork Players could teach those who had not come along on their journey, creating a bit of Elm Creek Quilt Camp in the hills of Malibu.
Last to arrive were Paige and Louis, walking hand in hand.
Julia welcomed them warmly, tentatively. After Paige murmured for Louis to precede her inside, she lingered on the doorstep, her gaze fixed on Julia’s.
“I’m so sorry,” Julia told her simply. “I regret every moment of anxiety and hurt I caused you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm,” said Paige. “And whatever you said to Stephen Deneford, you more than made up for it. Would you believe he actually increased his offer? He said his mother wouldn’t forgive him if he let me get away.”
“Is that so? In that case, I think that’s what did the trick, rather than anything I said.”
“We both know that’s not true,” said Paige, offering a small smile. “I do get it, you know? You wanted to believe that the show would go on forever. I might have done the same in your place.”
“If you ever are in my place,” said Julia ruefully, “I trust you’ll learn from my mistakes and make better choices.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” Paige said, eyes wide, nodding for emphasis. Julia watched her for a moment, uncertain, until Paige burst out laughing. “I’m teasing, Miss Julia,” she said, giving Julia’s arm a playful squeeze. “Since we’re going to be working together, I should warn you that I do that a lot.”
“I look forward to it,” said Julia sincerely. She gestured to the open doorway. “Come on inside. You’re very welcome here.”
