Scandal (24 page)

The bread plate was empty again. "Why don't you bring us some more, Dan? It's already
cut, just waiting."

He left quick enough.

She lowered her voice. "How's it going with you two? He's a good looking one, strong too, I
think. He's got that look in his eye that I like in a man. Steady."

Dan came back and set the refreshed plate on the table. He poured himself more tea before
putting another piece on his plate.

"Who would've guessed, us two, so single when we met at the Fair? Well," she amended, "I
wasn't single, but I certainly was alone. Now here we are, all coupled up and getting cozy."

"Sam and I are two very lucky guys." Dan said, around another bite of the bread.

Magda and Sam would be working together with the Guild and the Wrestlers to set the
place up. "We have a full Art Walk, a real event to bring people in. Even though we're a small town,
we have a lot of talent here. Your entrance fee gives you a chance to win our Guild quilt. It's a dandy
this year."

She eyed Dan. "If you could help with the setting up, you can meet Big Juan. Now there's an
experience." She chuckled. "Lena and Big Juan are becoming quite an item.

"Let's go look at your quilt. I saw it when Lena was working on it, but I'm anxious to see
what it looks like, done."

On the way to her workroom, she said, "Your boy Len is going to give a talk at our show this
year."

"About his quilt?"

"
Tumbling Blocks
? No. He's calling his talk, 'Extreme Sewing, a Matter of Life and
Death.'

"He didn't want us to advertise the talk, but we've put it on the paper flyers around town.
And Sunshine put it on our website. Kinda upset him. Lena begged him to let us keep it in. She
thinks it'll be a good draw. Once a day, at two o'clock.

"Interesting," was all I could say.

Together we opened my quilt onto the large table in her sewing room.

"Oh, my. You done good, girl. It's wonderful. The checks and stripes give it just the touch of
snazzy all that plainness needed." She patted it, pulling off a loose thread, used scissors to snip off a
hanging thread. "Never pull a thread that is connected."

"You're not going to win a prize. Too many tucks and gathers, but you've got the eye. You
thinking of selling it?"

"Sell it? Oh, no. Never. I have the perfect place for it."

I had a plan for the quilt but I wasn't ready to share it, or its name, with her yet.

She read the signature I'd embroidered at the bottom of the quilt: Sophie Elm, 1976, Annie
Straw, 2010. "Your first quilt. But I'm betting, not your last."

I wasn't ready to take that bet, thinking of the baby quilt I was working up in my mind.

This was a most interesting day in my life, starting with waking up in my bed with Dan's
arm over my back, my bottom curled into the cavity between his legs and chest, his gentle snoring
in my ear. I'm glad for the sweet beginning, because it wasn't long before the day began to
rumble.

I made oatmeal in the microwave, bowls too small, the oatmeal boiled over. I made toast in
the oven, burned it. Forgot to put the water in the coffee maker when I turned it on and nothing
happened, except it got hot. That was bad, as I really needed coffee. In the cupboard, telltale marks
of cat lick on the butter. I never find the cupboard door open, just his tongue marks, so he must
close it again, too.

Dan took over, cut off the cat licks, scrambled eggs for us in the good butter, saying no
disparaging things about the Prince. Made more toast, poured a couple glasses of grapefruit juice
for us. Even cleaned up the oatmeal. Added water to the coffee pot and served it all up with a kiss.
Good thing I had food to hold me up through the morning.

My cell rang just before I stepped into the shower. It was Magda. "Annie, where are you?
You said you would be here early with your quilt. It's seven already."

For gosh sakes, they'd hung the show yesterday morning, as the trial run. Couldn't leave it
up because of the wrestling match last night, so had taken it down yesterday afternoon and re-hung
it this morning.

"The spot for your quilt is empty. We open in two hours. We can't still be hanging it while
people are coming in. Already enough that I had to deal with Big Juan so early. He and Lena are
smitten and foolish. They made sure that I knew he won his match last night. Like I care. They're a
lot to mess with so early in the morning.

"Sammy doesn't do so well with him. I'm seeing a side of your Sam..."

Your Sam?

"...that I'm not happy with. Get your Dan here. He can put out these fires. Get a move
on!"

I'm not the only nervous one, here. Perhaps the unflappable Magda is feeling pressure,
too?

"Okay Magda, we're moving as fast as we can. I've got the quilt all rolled up, ready to
hang."

Gosh, the pressure. Who knew I'd be so nervous. And then I heard a car. I pushed the
curtain aside and saw in my driveway, the Thunderbird. Len was driving, with a woman beside him.
The top was up, I couldn't see her face.

Len knocked at my door while she stayed in the car. Dan answered. That put Len off, and
his attitude carried through the bathroom window.

"Where's Annie? Aren't you that fire guy?"

Dan now knew all about Len, I'd told him our history and how he'd come back into my life.
He was easy with it all. "Annie's getting ready for the show. Yeah, I'm the 'fire guy'. You need
something?"

"It's private, if you don't mind. I'll go on to the show, talk to her then. You will tell her I was
here, won't you? And that I want to talk to her?"

"Of course. She can call you on her cell while we're on the road. We'll be on our way here in
just a little bit."

"No need. I'll see her at the show." He started away, then turned, "So, you'll be there,
too?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"Great." But he didn't sound like it he thought it would be great.

"Does your friend want to come in? Or you? We have coffee."

"Her name is Luanne." He ignored the invite. "I'd appreciate it if you'd be nice to her today.
Be the first time she's seen my work, and meets my co-workers."

"Co-workers?"

"You know what I mean. Fellow artists." He started away again, "So I guess I'll see the both
of you there?" he asked again.

"Yes, we'll both be there."

With that he left and I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Lord, why did I ever
get mixed up with him again.

In the shower I thought about what I'd worked up last night to be added to the quilt, and
smiled. I'd had a Good Idea, I hoped. Magda sounded almost cranky this morning. She might not be
up for any surprises at the show.

There'd also be a surprise that Len didn't know about. That Katie Heap person who has a
T-Bird too, would be there today. I'm looking forward to meeting her.

And I'm wondering how Magda's friends feel about Sam moving in. She'd never answered
that question the day we'd stopped at her...their...place. I don't know what she's told them, she's
been so busy with the show. I'm wondering if they will be happy for her, or scandalized that she's
sharing house with a man, so quick.

We arrived in plenty of time to check into our motel and get to the show a full half hour
before the doors opened, expecting to find a parking place, easy, but there were cars parked all up
and down the street, and the next door parking lot was full too. We parked way up the street.

People were lined up just beyond the front door. Wow, this was a bigger draw than I'd
expected. Lena and a guy dressed like a wrestler cartoon in skin tight orange pants and a sleeveless
green and orange striped t-shirt met us outside the door. Had to be Big Juan. They were pinning up
advertising for that night's Wrestling Match. I heard him say, "Listen to me, my sweet, one of your
quilter gals took this down. They don't like it that we are here. They think we're a scandal to the
show."

"Oh, Honey Buns, how can you think that? They all love you, like I do." She patted the
muscular arm that was holding the poster in place while she pushed in tacks.

"No, not like you do," he said.

The wrestler giggled. Lena the tough giggled.

Lena noticed us and whispered to him. She and I said hello and hugged. Big Juan held out
his hand to Dan while nodding to me. "Mrs. Straw? And you must be Mr. Dee?"

Dan shook hands with him. "Yes, I am. And you are?" He knew who this was, he'd already
told me he didn't like the idea of calling him "Big". This was his way of finding out what to call
him.

"Juan. I'm on tonight. This is me." The poster had him pictured in a grapple with another
guy. The bold lettering announced their names and time of the matches, last night and tonight. "Will
you two be here?"

Lena said, "Juan won last night. He was wonderful. Nobody can beat him."

I nodded to her but answered him, "That depends on how today goes. We're staying over
with Magda and Sam. We might be too tired to make it."

Dan must have seen Lena's pleading look. "We'll do our best to come. I used to wrestle
some in high school, kinda get a kick outa watching you guys. It's a real art, doing what you do and
not killing each other. Pretend wrestling."

Big Juan's eyes flared.

I grabbed Dan's arm. "Hey, we can talk about it later. Magda wants us in there. Right now." I
gave his arm an extra tug as the air filled with testosterone. What is it with these guys?

The entry was a double door setup with enough space between the inner and outer doors
for one to close before the other is opened. It keeps wind and rain from blowing in. Once we were
between the two doors I whispered, "I can't believe you said that."

"What? Just speaking truth. I do admire them, at least their physical abilities to slam each
other around, and no one dies." He pushed the inner door open.

Color was everywhere. Quilts hung in rows across the floor of the big room, were mounted
high on the walls. Tables at the front and back were piled with potholders, table runners, trivets,
other quilted items. At the far end was a large, beautiful quilt in a frame standing high on a table. It
was the star quilt I'd worked on at the quilting bee. Someone with a ticket to the show would win it.
I hoped it would be me.

Magda whipped over to us. I didn't know she could walk that fast. She took the bag holding
my quilt. I was busy staring at the kaleidoscope of colors and designs. Different from the State Fair
where quilts had been lining the room. Here they
were
the room.

Magda took Dan with her to help hang my quilt, while I stood, bedazzled by flowers and
squares and triangles, a tsunami of geometry. I needed to follow Magda and Dan but I was
distracted.
I'll
just take a moment here
... Pinned to each creation was a tag with the
name of the quilt, of the maker and an explanation of the idea behind the design. If it was for sale,
the price was there, and if not, to whom it belonged. Below the information, in big letters, was:
PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH! HOLD THIS TAG TO LOOK AT THE BACK.

I was reminded of Lena's admonishment to "Never, never, touch a quilt." I saw now what
she meant. In a public setting like this the oil from the fingers of so many people would mark it, and
in the long run, damage the fabric.

No lookers or customers were in the room yet, just members of the guild. Sunshine came
over to me and said, "Hey, let me show you your Len's quilt. It's smashing."

"He's not 'my Len'," I said, protesting uneasily as I followed her down an aisle "Only a
second."

"No matter. Over here." She led me to the far wall at the back of the room where his
Tumbling Blocks
was standing alone, hanging from a frame made especially for it. I liked it.
The 3-D design is a dazzling trick to the eye.

"Is he here?" I said.

"No, he brought it in yesterday. Haven't seen him yet today. You know he's bringing in
another item to put right here. We'll make room when he comes. Going to give a short talk about it,
at two I think."

I already knew that. I was thinking about my quilt and Magda. I wanted to be with Magda
and Sam when they hung it. I excused myself and found her, with Sam, in a middle row. Why did I
think he might be elsewhere?

He was standing by an empty space in the line. Dan was there too. He had his hands tight
on the end of the bag, holding it taut as Magda pulled out the quilt.

"Hey! Just in time," Dan said. A small crowd of the Guild women and their helpers gathered
around us. The doors had yet to open.

I held up my hand. "I have something special here to add to the info about who made it, and
all. It doesn't belong to me anymore, don't know if it ever did. Magda and Sampson, this is my
present to you." I took out the piece of paper I'd printed up. Dan stood by me as I fished out tape
and attached it the sheet.

"Sam, you come over here, by Magda." I read while they listened.

This quilt,
Sweethearts
, belongs to
Sampson Smithers
and
Magda
Buler
,
to honor their relationship. Gifted to them
by its makers: his mother, Sophie
Elm,
and their friend, Annie Elm Straw. November 2012

Magda listened with her hand over her mouth. Sam held her other hand like he wasn't quite
sure what to think, to do.

When I finished, they were grinning ear to ear. I took a nice photo.

"Gosh," said Magda, "I guess the secret's out now!"

"As it should be." Sam gave her a quick kiss on her blushing cheek. He kissed my cheek, too.
First time ever. "Thank you so much, Annie. I never guessed."

"Me neither," said Magda. "So we can take it home when the show is over?"

"Yes indeed. It's yours."

"Guess you'll have to make one for your bed, now." She gave Sam the clips to attach
Sweethearts
to the line. "Next time you make a quilt for show, you must sew a hanger on the
back of it to slide a roller through.