Scandal by Patsy Brookshire

thought I knew what the large contraption in the middle of the room
was. "Is this another quilting frame?"
    "Yes, a longarm, for machine quilting."
    "Machine quilting? I've heard of it, but this is huge. Is this yours or Magda's?"
    She had just answered, "Magda's," when Sam and Magda came in. She asked him, "Did you
put the picnic table back where it belonged?"
    Magda answered her, "Oh, we forgot. It's okay the way it is. Oh, good. Annie, you've seen
what we'll probably end up doing your quilt on."
    Lena said to herself, "No matter. I'll do it myself. Later."
    "Huh?" was all I could say.
    "Sam told me about you finding a quilt of his mother's that you need to finish."
    I continued to stare at her, and then snapped my mouth shut, opening it only to say,
"Sam!"
    "He's out in the car, bringing it in so we can get started on the plan, see what we will need
to do to finish it."
    I didn't know we had the quilt with us. That Sam can be a sneaky sort.
    "News to me. Why am I always the last to know? And I don't think this is going to happen. I
don't quilt." I heard the car door slam and lickity split Sam was back in the room with us, holding a
large paper tote with "Cannon Beach Groceries" printed on it. The very one he'd been using for his
dirty clothes.
    "Here we are." He was smiling ear to ear, pleased with himself. "A surprise for you, Annie,
my girl. Magda's gonna help us."
    "Us?"
    "Yah, you'll finish the quilt."
    "And you're going to do what?"
    "Watch. Encourage. Be happy when I see Mom's quilt done."
    Magda said, "You could enter it in our quilt show." Those two were off and running.
    "Have you two been drinking out there under the apple tree? I thought there was a process
involved to get hard cider!"
    They ignored me. "Here, Sammy..."
    "Sammy?"
    "Put it here on this table, let's have a look."
    He upended the tote onto the table, spilling out the pieces of velvet and corduroy. Magda
began squaring them up, sorting the material into like piles. "Nice. Oh this will be interesting to
make up." She looked at me, surely noting my twisted mouth. "You are going to have such fun. And
with these heavy fabrics you will be better off machine quilting it."
    "Me? Machine quilt it?"
    She was ignoring me. "Oh, I like these flowered prints. Corduroy. Haven't seen such for
years. You know, fabric runs in fads, like clothing styles."
    "Before anybody quilts this you must teach me." I spread my hands over the spilled cloth,
suddenly feeling proprietary over the pieces.
    "Don't worry, honey, I'll do it with you. Sammy here can help us."
    I remembered my one sewing class in high school Home Ec and my frustration as the
teacher had, over and over, said, "Annie, you must rip that out."
    I'd made an apron and a blouse and a simple dress. All had been so painful with the amount
of ripping out and re-sewing that I'd not sewn much since. At Christmas I get inspired to make
simple gifts, pillowcases and placemats and such, but I'd found someone who I could pay to do our
mending and Roger had been okay with it.
    I quailed at being dragged into this world of quilting. But, my ego wouldn't let me hand this
over, either. I equivocated. "No, wait! It's all too tricky."
    Magda put her hand on my shoulder. "Not 'tricky', Annie. A little hard to begin with, but
once you get on to it you'll see it's wonderfully easy and so relaxing. You'll never know all the
problems I've solved just by sewing them away."

Chapter 11
Sewing Away the Winter Blues, With Len
    Magda said to us both, "I trust you brought your mat, grid rulers, and rotary cutter with
you?" I stared at her, then at Sam, whose mouth dropped open.
    "Uh, what?" he said.
    "Your tools! Quilting tools. It's no matter, I have plenty here, just that some people like to
use their own supplies. I bet you forgot your sewing machine, too."
    I turned on him, accusingly.
    "I figured you'd have needle and thread and scissors. What else could she need? I never
even heard of those other things, whatchamacallits, and,