Quilting Club
The only thing that kept Emma from completely cracking up was her ability to detach from reality and slip inside the fantasy world of make-believe. All the time she was being stripped of her belt and her shoelaces, and relieved of the contents of her purse, she kept telling herself she was preparing for the role of a lifetime. As her fingerprints were pressed onto the ink pad and she looked hangdog for the camera, she pretended this was nothing more than extensive research.
But when the iron doors clanged behind her and she saw the other women eyeing her with unfriendly intent, caught the stench of unwashed bodies, her self-delusion wavered a bit. How had this happened? All she’d done was defend herself, and now she was behind bars. How fair was that?
They treated her to a bologna sandwich on white bread and a cup of rotgut coffee in a Styrofoam cup,no sugar, no cream. She didn’t have a lawyer, and when she got her one phone call, the only person she knew to call was Myron.
“Anna,” Myron wheezed, “this isn’t all bad. You’ve been all over the evening news.”
“Emma,” she corrected. “I’m in jail charged with a sex crime and I’ve alienated one of the most powerful men on Broadway. How is being on the evening news going to benefit me?”
“Ya never know what twists and turns life will take, doll face,” he said.
She almost asked him if “doll face” was considered a compliment or an insult, but the fact that the guard standing beside her was tapping the face of his watch told her it was time to wrap up the conversation. “Can you look into getting me out of here?”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Hurry please, it’s not a day at the spa.”
“All grist for the mill.”
“What?”
“Experience it. Channel it. Adversity will make you a better actor.”
“Gee, thanks for that advice.”
“Dontcha worry, doll face. I’m working on getting you sprung.”
“Time’s up,” said the guard, and took the phone away from her.
Back in the cell, she curled up on a metal bench to sleep, but didn’t dare close her eyes.
Then early the next morning, a miracle happened. The guard called her name. She leaped to her feet. He let her out of the cell.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“You’re free to go.”
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“The charges have been dropped.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
She wasn’t about to argue with him. She collected her belongings from the police desk and turned to go just as Myron came rushing into the station house. Well, as much as he could rush with his arthritic knees and respiratory condition.
“Doll face, you’re free,” he greeted her amid the ocean of blue uniforms coming and going.
“Yes, I don’t know what you did to get the charges dropped, but thank you, thank you, thank—”
“It wasn’t me.”
“No?”
His withered old head rotated left and right.
“Then what happened?”
“Miller dropped the charges.”
“All on his own?”
Myron shrugged. “I don’t know what happened. Probably because he didn’t have a case. Just don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
He had a point.
“But I’m here for another reason entirely,” Myron said.
Emma cocked her head. Myron was almost as vertically challenged as she was. “What’s that?”
“Job offer.”
“Seriously?” She scarcely dared hope this could be something good.
“Yep. I told you being on the evening news was a good thing.”
“I don’t have to audition for this job?”
“No. It’s yours.”
She moistened her lips and her pulse quickened. Maybe it was true what they said. Maybe it really was always darkest before the dawn. “What is it?”
“Now don’t get all excited. It’s not a big deal. Not nearly as lucrative as a commercial spot. Still…after that mess with Miller, a job offer is a job offer.”
She balled her hands into fists. “What is it?”
“You’re gonna hafta travel out of
The only thing that kept Emma from completely cracking up was her ability to detach from reality and slip inside the fantasy world of make-believe. All the time she was being stripped of her belt and her shoelaces, and relieved of the contents of her purse, she kept telling herself she was preparing for the role of a lifetime. As her fingerprints were pressed onto the ink pad and she looked hangdog for the camera, she pretended this was nothing more than extensive research.
But when the iron doors clanged behind her and she saw the other women eyeing her with unfriendly intent, caught the stench of unwashed bodies, her self-delusion wavered a bit. How had this happened? All she’d done was defend herself, and now she was behind bars. How fair was that?
They treated her to a bologna sandwich on white bread and a cup of rotgut coffee in a Styrofoam cup,no sugar, no cream. She didn’t have a lawyer, and when she got her one phone call, the only person she knew to call was Myron.
“Anna,” Myron wheezed, “this isn’t all bad. You’ve been all over the evening news.”
“Emma,” she corrected. “I’m in jail charged with a sex crime and I’ve alienated one of the most powerful men on Broadway. How is being on the evening news going to benefit me?”
“Ya never know what twists and turns life will take, doll face,” he said.
She almost asked him if “doll face” was considered a compliment or an insult, but the fact that the guard standing beside her was tapping the face of his watch told her it was time to wrap up the conversation. “Can you look into getting me out of here?”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Hurry please, it’s not a day at the spa.”
“All grist for the mill.”
“What?”
“Experience it. Channel it. Adversity will make you a better actor.”
“Gee, thanks for that advice.”
“Dontcha worry, doll face. I’m working on getting you sprung.”
“Time’s up,” said the guard, and took the phone away from her.
Back in the cell, she curled up on a metal bench to sleep, but didn’t dare close her eyes.
Then early the next morning, a miracle happened. The guard called her name. She leaped to her feet. He let her out of the cell.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“You’re free to go.”
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“The charges have been dropped.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
She wasn’t about to argue with him. She collected her belongings from the police desk and turned to go just as Myron came rushing into the station house. Well, as much as he could rush with his arthritic knees and respiratory condition.
“Doll face, you’re free,” he greeted her amid the ocean of blue uniforms coming and going.
“Yes, I don’t know what you did to get the charges dropped, but thank you, thank you, thank—”
“It wasn’t me.”
“No?”
His withered old head rotated left and right.
“Then what happened?”
“Miller dropped the charges.”
“All on his own?”
Myron shrugged. “I don’t know what happened. Probably because he didn’t have a case. Just don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
He had a point.
“But I’m here for another reason entirely,” Myron said.
Emma cocked her head. Myron was almost as vertically challenged as she was. “What’s that?”
“Job offer.”
“Seriously?” She scarcely dared hope this could be something good.
“Yep. I told you being on the evening news was a good thing.”
“I don’t have to audition for this job?”
“No. It’s yours.”
She moistened her lips and her pulse quickened. Maybe it was true what they said. Maybe it really was always darkest before the dawn. “What is it?”
“Now don’t get all excited. It’s not a big deal. Not nearly as lucrative as a commercial spot. Still…after that mess with Miller, a job offer is a job offer.”
She balled her hands into fists. “What is it?”
“You’re gonna hafta travel out of
Similar Books
