A Single Thread (Cobbled Court) (29 page)

The place was a mess, but many hands made light work and soon everything was tidy again. I turned in a circle to look at the shop, my shop, and hugged myself.

“Thank you!” I said. “Thank you all so much. I can’t imagine how I could ever repay you, but I want you to know that if I ever have the chance, I’ll try.”

“It was a nice party, wasn’t it?” Margot said with a smile, her eyes sparkling. “Everyone had a good time.”

“Yes, but I’m not just talking about the party. I’m talking about everything.” I spread my arms wide. “I’m talking about this! Cobbled Court Quilts. My dream come true!

“Back when I first opened, Charlie told me I needed to think out of the box, to dream about what I truly wanted the shop to be, and this—this is exactly what I imagined. Something more than a quilt shop. A community, a neighborhood, where people would come together to quilt, and create, and learn, and heal, and take risks. This is what I wanted!”

I laughed with pleasure, so delighted with everything I saw around me that unexpected tears started in my eyes. “And none of it would have happened without all of you. I wanted to open a quilt shop that would help others find all those wonderful things, but I never realized that I’d find them for myself as well. Thank you,” I repeated, looking into the faces of my precious son and three dear friends.

The sparkle in Margot’s eyes faded, and I saw her bite her lower lip the way she always did when she was trying to figure out how to say something she didn’t want to say. I held up my hand to stop her.

“Margot, it’s all right. I’ve seen the cash-flow statements. I know. I’m going to have to close the shop.”

Ever since I’d asked Margot to bring the books over to her house so I could look at them three days before, I’d known it was over. This was just the first time I’d actually said it out loud, to myself or anyone else. I took a deep breath, composing myself.

“But it’s okay. I want you all to know that. Of course, I wanted the shop to succeed, and, in every way but financially, it did.

“In a few months, this place will be empty. With two failed businesses to its credit, this wonderful, improbable old building in this terrible, beautiful location will probably be abandoned forever. Cobwebs will gather in the corners, the paint on the windowsills will chip, and the plumbing will spring leaks. Maybe someone will knock it down to make way for something newer and more practical, a parking lot or a stack of office cubicles. That would be sad, but even if that happens, all of us and everyone who walked through those doors will remember that, for a little while at least, there was a remarkable little community of people who found something simple and genuine here, and it gave their lives a little bit more joy.” I blinked back the tears. I wanted to get through it, wanted them to hear me out.

“If you think about it, that’s a pretty good day’s work: more than most people accomplish in a lifetime. And you were all part of it. Even knowing how it was going to turn out, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. But only if I got to do it with all of you by my side.”

Now the tears began to flow in earnest for everyone except Abigail and Garrett, who had his arm around the shoulders of a sniffling Liza and was trying to comfort her.

“It’s not fair!” Liza said. “You’ve been up against so much and you worked so hard. We all did. It isn’t as if people don’t like the shop. Yesterday I waited on a lady who was buying fabric to make a quilt for her daughter’s wedding, and she was so excited. She said she’d never have had the courage to try it if she hadn’t taken your class. Your customers love Cobbled Court Quilts—and you.”

Margot pulled a tissue out of the pocket of her skirt and used it to wipe her nose. “And we were making progress on the financial side too. Every month was a little better than the last, and every month we added to our customer base. If we’d had another year, two at the outside, I think we could have made it. Liza’s right. It isn’t fair.”

I patted Margot’s arm. “I know. After Quilt Pink, I thought we might make it to the tourist season. Maybe, if I hadn’t gotten sick and could have taught more classes over the winter, we’d have been able to squeak by. Who knows? But it just didn’t work out that way. It’s no one’s fault. There are some things we just don’t have control over.”

Abigail, who had been listening to this exchange with dry eyes and furrowed brow, spoke up. “Do you really believe that?”

“What? That there are things we don’t have control over? Of course I do.”

“I don’t,” she said flatly. “I mean, of course you don’t have control over things like flood, fire, famine, or breast cancer—things like that. But this
isn’t
like that. If you close the shop now, it’ll be because you gave up.”

In the face of this pronouncement, Margot looked shocked and Liza looked insulted—and me? I guess I was a little of each.

“Abigail! How can you say that? After all that we’ve done? There isn’t a promotion or project we haven’t tried! We worked our fingers to the bone and did everything we knew how to do to increase our customer base.”

“I know,” Abigail said, “and it was working. Margot just said it was. So, given that, I just don’t understand why you’re going to throw in the towel and walk away.”

“Because I’m out of money, time, and ideas—that’s why!”

Abigail made a face. “Ridiculous! Preposterous! Money is one of the few commodities that, in a sense, is nearly infinite; you may not always
have
more, but you can always
get
more. Money is easy. Time is tougher. I’ll admit, we don’t always have control over how much time we’ve got, but, now that you’re recovered from your surgery, it looks like there’s every reason to believe that you have plenty of years ahead of you. And as far as ideas,” she said brightly, looking around at the assemblage, “has anybody got one?”

For a moment everyone looked at everyone else, waiting to see if someone was going to speak. Finally Garrett raised his hand, slowly and cautiously, like a schoolboy asking for permission to go to the restroom in the middle of a math test. “Actually, I have been playing around with an idea.”

“Well, go on,” Abigail said. “Let’s hear it.”

Garrett cleared his throat. “All right. I’ve been looking over the books too, and I’d noticed that, even with the very basic kind of Web site that Margot put together—no offense, Margot.”

“None taken.”

“Even with a simple site and no real marketing to promote it, Web sales are the most rapidly growing segment of our business. And do you know what our best-selling items are? The charm packs and fabric medleys that Liza created, especially that chocolate brown and turquoise collection. Customers just love the way she puts colors together.”

Liza beamed at the compliment, and Garrett winked at her before going on. “The problem is this: New Bern is a great little town, but it’s a
little
town. Even if you could turn every woman and some of the men in town into avid quilters, you still wouldn’t generate enough in-store sales to make more than a small profit. The population is just too small to support a really thriving quilt store.”

I nodded. It was true. I’d known that from the first, but somehow I’d hoped to attract just enough customers from the surrounding area to keep my head above water. I’d never been looking to get rich, just to survive financially while making my vision of a quilting community a reality.

“We’ve got to think big,” Garrett said, his voice growing stronger now that he realized everyone was tracking with him. “There are lots of quilters who don’t have access to a local quilt store. If we had a truly first-class Web site, with an extensive online catalog, an inventory that is second to none, where people from all over the country and even the world would be able to find any kind of fabric, pattern, kit, or notion they could possibly imagine and have it sent to them quickly, plus unique features that would make our site stand out, I think we could make it. In fact, I think we could do better than that. I think we could make Cobbled Court Quilts into the biggest, most recognized name in quilting.”

He said it with such conviction that I wanted to believe him. I think everyone did, but I still had a lot of questions. “But all that would take money and staff…”

“And space,” Garrett confirmed. “We’d need warehouse space to house the additional inventory and to give us a place to coordinate order fulfillment.”

“Well, where are we supposed to get all that?”

“Mom, I’ve got money saved. A lot—sixty thousand dollars.”

My jaw dropped. “Sixty thousand? I…I had no idea.”

Garrett grinned. “I told you, I was way overpaid at Claremont Solutions as well as way overworked. I never had a chance to get out of the office and buy anything, so it all went into the bank. I’ve been looking for a good investment, and I think this is it.”

“Garrett,” I protested, “you’re the best son on earth, but what if you’re wrong? What if you lose everything you’ve saved?”

“I’m young.” He shrugged. “If I lose it, I’ve got time to make more. Like Abigail says, you can always make more. Besides, experienced computer programmers are always in demand. If I had to, I could get another cubicle job tomorrow, probably making more than I was before. But I’d rather work for you at a vastly reduced salary doing something much more exciting, something I really believe in.”

“Me too!” Margot piped in. “You’re going to need a marketing manager for all this. I happen to be available, and if I don’t have to live in a ridiculously overpriced apartment in New York, which I’d rather not anyway, I can work cheap. But, of course, we’ll need entry-level people to help with stocking, and mailing, and waiting on customers.”

“There are at least a dozen women—smart, capable women who’ve never been given a chance—at the shelter right now who’d jump at the chance to work here,” Abigail announced. “All I have to do is make a few calls and you’d have all the workers you need.”

I laughed and held up my hands. As much as I wanted it to be true, I was finding it hard to keep up with everything I was hearing. “Slow down! We’ve got to sit down and think this through. Everything is happening so fast. I can’t believe this is as easy as you’re making it sound.”

Garrett shook his head. “Oh no. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing easy about this. I’ve crunched the numbers, and, in addition to my sixty, we’ll need another fifty thousand dollars just to get started. Seventy would be better. And we still need warehouse space. If we can’t find an inexpensive space, that would mean we’d need even more capital. I’m not sure where we can find that kind of money.”

Abigail stepped forward, about to speak, but a voice from the stairs interrupted her. I turned and saw Rob, Franklin, and Wendy standing on the stairs, listening. I wasn’t sure how long they’d been there.

“I’ve got some money put away,” Rob said quietly. “In my retirement fund. Fifty thousand dollars. If you need it, Evie, it’s yours. I’d like to help you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Before I could speak, Abigail put in her two cents. “And I’m sure we can find you some cheap warehouse space. Franklin, who do we know that owns warehouses in New Bern?”

“You do. Several. You’ve got a big, vacant space less than three blocks from here.”

Abigail looked surprised. “I do? I knew we’d bought some real estate, but I thought it was all in Florida. Shopping malls or something.”

“Abigail,” Franklin sighed with exasperation, “I don’t know why you even bother coming to our monthly business meetings. Every month we go out, we have lunch, and I talk while you pick at your food and chat with everyone who drops by the table. Why should I waste my time trying to keep you informed about your affairs? You never pay the slightest attention.”

Abigail smiled, clearly enjoying getting under Franklin’s skin. “Franklin. Darling,” she purred. “You do such a good job managing everything that I don’t have to pay attention. I only show up at those meetings to make sure you get out of the office now and then.”

Franklin growled a little and went on. “Yes, Abigail, you do own property in Florida, but you also own a good bit of the commercial real estate in New Bern. As a matter of fact, you own this building.”

“I do? Evelyn is paying me rent? How much?” Uncomfortable about revealing this information publicly, Franklin crossed the room and whispered into Abigail’s ear.

“That much? For this old wreck? My, Franklin, you
are
good at managing my affairs! No one but you would have dared to ask that kind of rent for this building and then gotten it. But I’ve got a better idea. I’d like to rent this space and the warehouse you’d mentioned to Evelyn for a more reasonable rent. Let’s say ten dollars a month for both properties.”

“Abigail!” I gasped. “That’s too much!”

“Too much? Well, all right then. You drive a hard bargain. Five dollars a month. “

“No! You know I didn’t mean it was too expensive. I mean it’s too generous! You’re too generous. I can’t let you do it.”

“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed. “I’ve got more money than I can spend in a lifetime—in two lifetimes. I don’t need a few more dollars in rent money, but I do need friends. If Cobbled Court closes, what will happen to our quilt circle? It’ll break up, that’s what. And then what will I do with myself? Go back to attending dull cocktail parties and even duller board meetings for a bunch of organizations I never really cared about to begin with? No, thank you. Believe me; this isn’t generosity on my part, Evelyn. It’s self-preservation.”