asked.
I noticed that they were hanging around the beading tables that I had set up for the class.
I pulled out a couple of the chairs so they could sit down. “Go ahead and get comfortable. We’re waiting on a few others.”
I walked back over to Margaret and her mom. “Take your time. I’m going to get some refreshments out of the back for my beading class, so yell if you have any questions.”
“Beading class?” Margaret clapped her hands together; her high-ponytail flopped to the side. “Momma!”
Momma had better watch her alignment, I thought as Margaret grabbed her momma’s hand and dragged her over to the beading tables.
“Remember why we are here.” Momma stopped dead in her tracks, reeling in Margaret. “Ms. Harper, we aren’t sure if working with you is a good idea, and I told Margaret that we needed to come in here and see what type of establishment The Beaded Dragonfly is.”
“I’m sorry. I’m a bit confused.” I tilted my head, squinting my eyes, and trying to figure out what she meant by “type of establishment.”
“You know the murder and all.” She covered her mouth with the back of her hand so no one would hear.
But the whole town already knew about it.
“Momma!” Margaret gasped. “Where are your manners?”
“Margaret, you know we can’t be associated with any type of criminal activity. Daddy wouldn’t approve.” Momma looked me up and down. “I guess it seems like you’re on the up and up. Plus, you don’t really look like you could murder someone.”
I really wanted to whack her, but I needed this job. I needed the income from sixteen sets of bridesmaids’ accessories, so I just bit my lip.
“I can assure you I am on the up and up. I will design and make the most beautiful accessories you’ve ever seen for a bridal party.” I hated to beg, but I would have gotten on my knees if I’d needed too.
“Fine. We will give you a shot.” Momma sat down next to Margaret.
“I’m so embarrassed.” Margaret flipped her ponytail.
I smiled. It looked like Margaret and her momma were attending the class.
I grabbed a couple more bead boards, and Marlene put the cookies and fruit punch out on the counter. Within ten minutes, all the beaders were there, including Margaret and her momma.
After some small talk and a few refreshments, it was time to start class. The first beading class was always a lot of repetition.
“Hi, thank you all for signing up.” I greeted them with a smile and made eye contact with each of them. I didn’t want them to think I was hiding anything about the murder. “Not to make light of the situation, but I was afraid that no one was going to show up because of what happened here.”
I didn’t want to ignore what had happened. No matter how you looked at it, finding a dead guy in your shop couldn’t be good for business.
“Over the next four weeks of classes, we will be making a simple beaded bracelet, earrings, and a necklace.” All of these were quite simple and added a little difficulty as they progressed to each new accessory. “Today, we are going to learn the basic tools, and how to make a basic bracelet.”
I brought out a single-strand glass bead bracelet I had made as an example to pass around to my beginner classes. Seeing examples always helped me when I started beading my own jewelry.
We went through each tool and its purpose. I asked them to use their piles of beads to lay out a design. Each one of them took the time to consider carefully where to place each bead.
Some of them wanted to use fancier beads, but I always saved those for the more advanced classes.
I repeated the process several times, teaching them the proper technique for measuring their wrists. It was hard for them to understand that they had to add an inch to the length, because they had to leave enough space for the crimp and toggle closure. Plus, a little extra wiggle room never hurt anyone.
After they were finished designing their bracelets, I
I noticed that they were hanging around the beading tables that I had set up for the class.
I pulled out a couple of the chairs so they could sit down. “Go ahead and get comfortable. We’re waiting on a few others.”
I walked back over to Margaret and her mom. “Take your time. I’m going to get some refreshments out of the back for my beading class, so yell if you have any questions.”
“Beading class?” Margaret clapped her hands together; her high-ponytail flopped to the side. “Momma!”
Momma had better watch her alignment, I thought as Margaret grabbed her momma’s hand and dragged her over to the beading tables.
“Remember why we are here.” Momma stopped dead in her tracks, reeling in Margaret. “Ms. Harper, we aren’t sure if working with you is a good idea, and I told Margaret that we needed to come in here and see what type of establishment The Beaded Dragonfly is.”
“I’m sorry. I’m a bit confused.” I tilted my head, squinting my eyes, and trying to figure out what she meant by “type of establishment.”
“You know the murder and all.” She covered her mouth with the back of her hand so no one would hear.
But the whole town already knew about it.
“Momma!” Margaret gasped. “Where are your manners?”
“Margaret, you know we can’t be associated with any type of criminal activity. Daddy wouldn’t approve.” Momma looked me up and down. “I guess it seems like you’re on the up and up. Plus, you don’t really look like you could murder someone.”
I really wanted to whack her, but I needed this job. I needed the income from sixteen sets of bridesmaids’ accessories, so I just bit my lip.
“I can assure you I am on the up and up. I will design and make the most beautiful accessories you’ve ever seen for a bridal party.” I hated to beg, but I would have gotten on my knees if I’d needed too.
“Fine. We will give you a shot.” Momma sat down next to Margaret.
“I’m so embarrassed.” Margaret flipped her ponytail.
I smiled. It looked like Margaret and her momma were attending the class.
I grabbed a couple more bead boards, and Marlene put the cookies and fruit punch out on the counter. Within ten minutes, all the beaders were there, including Margaret and her momma.
After some small talk and a few refreshments, it was time to start class. The first beading class was always a lot of repetition.
“Hi, thank you all for signing up.” I greeted them with a smile and made eye contact with each of them. I didn’t want them to think I was hiding anything about the murder. “Not to make light of the situation, but I was afraid that no one was going to show up because of what happened here.”
I didn’t want to ignore what had happened. No matter how you looked at it, finding a dead guy in your shop couldn’t be good for business.
“Over the next four weeks of classes, we will be making a simple beaded bracelet, earrings, and a necklace.” All of these were quite simple and added a little difficulty as they progressed to each new accessory. “Today, we are going to learn the basic tools, and how to make a basic bracelet.”
I brought out a single-strand glass bead bracelet I had made as an example to pass around to my beginner classes. Seeing examples always helped me when I started beading my own jewelry.
We went through each tool and its purpose. I asked them to use their piles of beads to lay out a design. Each one of them took the time to consider carefully where to place each bead.
Some of them wanted to use fancier beads, but I always saved those for the more advanced classes.
I repeated the process several times, teaching them the proper technique for measuring their wrists. It was hard for them to understand that they had to add an inch to the length, because they had to leave enough space for the crimp and toggle closure. Plus, a little extra wiggle room never hurt anyone.
After they were finished designing their bracelets, I
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