Moon over Madeline Island (20 page)

D
own at the boathouse, Ruby and Johnny are fussing in the kitchen. Howard is working in the office. Me, I'm having a smoke out on the deck. It's nearly nine; I'm beginning to think that maybe no one's coming. Then I hear a knock.

Looking up to the sky, I say. “Thank you.” Turning into the boathouse, I announce to everyone, just like I used to in the salon as the first client of the day came in, “It's Show Time!” Before reaching for the screen door, I give everyone a thumbs-up. Howard and Johnny offer it back. Ruby's eyes twinkle.

I pull open the door. There stands Sam, dressed in bright yellow, with Bonnie close behind. “Well, look at you girl,” Sam says through sensuous lips. “I have chucked my Wal-Mart gig and decided you need me
far
worse than
those
folks. I
will
miss the discount though. Hello—you-all must be Johnny and Howard.” Sam hands me her sewing machine and saunters over to the boys, extending a hand. A waft of Sandalwood floats behind her.

“I sure hope…” Bonnie says, snubbing out a cigarette on her hiking-boot heel and dropping the remains into her jeans pocket. “…I'm not late. Al, my
husband,
woke up with a hangover and wasn't too thrilled he had to drive me over. He left before I could grab my sewing machine.”

“I'm sure someone can give you a lift home,” I say. “I'm
really
glad to see you.” Ruby comes forward, offering her hand. “I'm Ruby.” She clasps her other hand over Bonnie's. “Nice to meet you, darling.”

“Hello? Hello?” A shrill voice calls from outside.

Walking over to the edge of the balcony, I look down and see Lilly. She has on the same trench coat. Her glasses are perched on her nose at half-mast, silver-white hair looking as though it's being sucked up to heaven. I wave her up.

Marsha's following down the path, I hurry over to the top of the stairs in time to take Lilly's machine and wait for Marsha to catch up. Letting the screen door smack behind me, I reach up to push my hair away, then smile, remembering the braids. The boathouse is alive with gabbing women and an occasional cackle from Johnny or Sam—hard to tell the difference.

“Good morning.” I walk over, stand next to Ruby and face the group. “It's wonderful to see…well…everyone.” The assemblage regards one another. “How about we start with something to sip, then take a seat and we'll get acquainted before I
crack
the whip.”

After everyone gets coffee and finds a chair, I lean on the edge of a table up front. “In a nutshell, for the next”—I look under the deer head, checking the Chippendale calendar Johnny placed there—“month or so, we're going to be making…aprons. Not just ordinary aprons, mind you, but aprons with—”

“Attitude!” Ruby offers, lifting her chin for emphasis. Laughter.

“Ex—actly,” I continue while walking slowly around the room. “It's a simple pattern, not too many pieces and…we're planning on selling them at the Apple Festival in October. We're also going to offer them online—but our goal is to get them around as many waists as possible and we think the festival will be the ideal testing ground.”

Sam claps her hands together. “Girl…” she drawls, “you are going to
take
that town.”

“Thank you, Sam.” I take a slug of coffee. “
This
is how we'd like to run things.” I set down my mug and look around the room. “Pay is fifteen an hour.” There's an approving murmur. “An hour for lunch…
we
provide. You can bring a dish tomorrow, if you like. I need a commitment of at least four days a week.
no
overtime and maybe someday soon I can offer you health benefits of some sort.”

Lilly raises her hand. “In all fairness and seeing as the morning is getting on…” Her half-moon glasses enlarge her eyes. “Let's get started!”

There's an overall nodding of heads, then we hear the clomp of footsteps coming up the stairs. The screen door smacks open and a man steps into the room carrying a sewing case and breathing heavily. It's Al. Our eyes lock and I feel this queer chill run down my spine. He nods ever so slightly in recognition. I squint my eyes in return.

Sam shakes her head, then says in a low voice, “Mmm, mmm. Trouble has just come a knockin', yes sir.”

He's dressed in tight jeans, a beer belly straining his shirt buttons. He reaches up to flop back in place his greasy, combed-over hair. I don't think a new do could help this guy. 'Course, if the comb-over went; lose the belly
and
new clothes—Nah, hopeless.

He pants out, “Looking for Bonnie…she forgot this.” He looks around, catches her eye and he clumsily sets the machine down. Turning to leave, he says, “You know I close late tonight, so you gotta find a ride—”

“Don't you fret about your wife, Mr. Smitters,” Sam assures him. “I'll be more than happy to bring her home.”

“Fine by me….” The door smacks. His footsteps fade down the stairs along with the smell of liquor and a sweet/sour cologne odor.

“Thank you,” Bonnie says to Sam, who pats her on the hand. “Sorry about…him.”

“Well…as I was saying”—I arch my brows a touch—“before that charming young man interrupted us, let's get started, shall we?”

Everyone moves around, looking over the fabric, exploring the back rooms and setting up their sewing machines. I crank up Ella Fitzgerald, who belts out, “They Can't Take That Away from Me.”

Purses are put away, windows and doors are opened and bolts of fabric are being unrolled. An order falls into place as each gal creates a space to work in. Johnny, Sam and Lilly look over the cardboard apron pieces while Marsha and Bonnie thread their machines. Howard heads back into the office.

“Who was that?” Johnny asks, following me into the kitchen area.

“Bonnie's husband,” I say.

“Oh yeah,” Johnny says. “Owner of the Liquor Lounge.
That's
the wife? She's too pretty for—”

“Meow.”

“Lovely, isn't it, darling.” Ruby comes over beside me. “I think Sam's right, you know. We're going to
take
this town!”

“You know, I think she is too.” I head back to the office to check on Howard.

“Hey, Eve.” He leans back, clasping his muscular arms behind his head. “Have a seat and
listen
.”

I thump down into one of the chairs opposite him. We overhear Sam and Lilly deciding just who should cut the pieces out and who should assemble. Lilly declares she's an okay cutter, but “Eve's probably faster,” and then we hear the buzz of her electric scissors going at it. One by one, sewing machines rev to life, and the drone makes my stomach vibrate. Howard and I chat about the hundred and one details concerning the festival.

 

Johnny appears in the office doorway looking suspicious and I notice the silence out in the workroom.

“We have something to show you two,” he says, and we follow him to the front.

The four women are grinning—Rocky's sprawled out on the table in front of Sam's machine, wrapped in a colorful apron covered with ladybugs and flowers. It's silent for a beat, then Rocky meows and his tail slaps the table.

“This what you had in mind?” Sam asks, and all eyes are on me.

“Oh
yes
!” I lift Rocky into my arms, unwind the apron and admire it.

“Honey,” Sam drawls, “the day we met I felt something powerful special about you and this is just the beginning, child.” She looks deeply into my eyes.

Then all four ladies stand up. Ruby comes around the counter and everyone shows off their fancy aprons! Johnny comes over and ties one around my waist. A tear trickles down my cheek.

I clear my throat. “I'll take it!” Everyone laughs.

Ruby gives my shoulder a nice pat and heads back into the kitchen area. After some minor task adjustments, the team jumps into production again. I take over cutting fabric after a few lessons from Lilly. With five sewing machines roaring away, not to mention these fancy cutters of Lilly's, the room is filled with life. I hand a stack of apron ties to Johnny and we grin. Several hours whiz by before my stomach starts to growl.

“Lunch,” Ruby announces right on time. The sewing machines go silent. “Pick up a plate and help yourself. Let's eat out on the balcony. No sense in letting all that sunshine go to waste.”

Chairs scrape as everyone stands to stretch, Rocky included. Ruby has set out a tasteful buffet of sourdough baguettes, thinly sliced cold meats, cheeses, salad fixings and several pans of gooey desert treats. Are we good bosses or what?

“My land.” Sam takes a plate from Ruby. “Wal-Mart, with all their money, only ever gave us coffee. You are going to spoil us something fierce.”

“Totally fat-free desserts.” I nod to Ruby. “Just don't swallow.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Lilly says over her glasses. “I'd better try one of these—well, one of each maybe, to make sure they're—”

“Safe,” Johnny finishes.

“No one's fallen dead…yet,” Ruby remarks.

“Hmm, now
there's
a thought.” Bonnie takes a bit of this and that. “Food poisoning.”

I try to picture Al with that beer belly and her scrawny little body naked and then cough to clear my mind. Maybe a class on nutrition would help; we could convert the loft into a yoga/workout room. I'd have to start with yours truly. But Reese's Peanut Butter Cups must have
some
health benefits. I've read the label a thousand times and at least I
recognize
the ingredients.

We spend a quiet lunch chewing and enjoying the sun. After everyone finishes eating, Sam, Lilly, Bonnie and Marsha all go back into the boathouse. Seconds later they return with purses, root around in them and produce cigarettes. Oh boy.

“This is
not
a good sign,” Sam says through a cloud of smoke. “I think besides yoga, we need something to help us kick this nasty habit.” I blush, remembering her “gift.”

Ruby and I join in the smoking. The boys retreat into the boathouse, where the air is cleaner, but not before Johnny makes several comments about lung disease, the horrible smell in one's clothes, hair and on one's breath. He has a way with words.

“This really is pathetic.” I blow smoke out of my nose. Cute huh?

“I've smoked since I was ten and—” Bonnie offers.

“Ten!” Sam declares. “You must have come into this world smoking, girl. I picked it up when I moved up here. Never touched one before and that's the God's honest truth.”

“When was that?” I ask.

“I moved up here about…twenty years ago, I guess.” Sam ponders this.

“I think it must have been when Lud died that I really got the hang of it,” Lilly says. “If I didn't smoke, I'd be big as a house. It keeps my mouth busy. 'Course I'd rather be crunching.”

“Crunching?” Marsha asks, putting her cigarette out, checking her makeup in a tiny mirror.

“Chips…I am addicted to potato chips,” Lilly proclaims with pride, holding open her enormous purse, showing us all several chip bags in various states of consumption.

“You know,” I say rather conspiratorially, “there's something about a good crunch that—”

“Beats sex cold,” Sam throws in and we giggle. “I'd rather be crunching with Lilly here than dealing with men.”

“You ever been married, Sam?” Ruby asks, handing her a fish-shaped ashtray quickly filling with lipstick-coated butts.

“No, ma'm, never have and I can't imagine I will. Nothing against it, mind you. I just never had any
use
for it. Doesn't seem right, spending your life with just one other person. Besides, with the sight I got gifted with, well, I see too much as it is.”

“What do you mean…sight?” Lilly asks. Marsha and Bonnie move in closer.

“Oh, it's nothing really; everyone has it,” Sam says apologetically. “Most folks are too busy
thinking
about the future—not
living
in the present. Gives me room to take a look around in their heads.”

“You can see into my
head?
” Lilly asks, her eyes wide.

“Only if I'm invited, if it's in your best interest. That's what my momma told me, anyway.” Sam shakes her head. “Sometimes though, I see things that make me
so
sad. Guess that's why I like living up here at the end of the world. Folks here seem to have mostly found their peace.” I notice her casting a worried look in Bonnie's direction, but it quickly vanishes.

“I had my palm read by a woman once and she had everything all mixed up. Charged me twenty bucks for nothing,” Marsha says, giving her hair a pat. “I believe I have spent half my life thinking about the past, what
might
have been if my husband hadn't gone off and left.”

“Oh, there's nothing wrong with remembering, wondering now and again,” Sam observes. “It's when you sit there in your head and don't see what's in front of you—that's the rub.”

“Lordy,” Lilly says, getting to her feet. “We have talked right through an hour out here and it's high time we hit the machines…ladies.” She heads back into the boathouse.

“You can root around in my head anytime the feeling hits you, darling,” Ruby says. “Just be forewarned, I can't be held responsible for what you find in there.” Sam smiles.

We move back inside and everyone digs right back in. Around four o'clock the sewing machines all come to a halt for the day.

“Well, that's that and what a
that
it's been,” Ruby announces to the group and I nod. “The way you all moved today…was super! Won't be long and we'll have hundreds of aprons for the festival.”