An Elm Creek Quilts Sampler (93 page)

Julia smiled at her weakly and hoped that Vinnie would be remarkably good, but if it came down to telling the truth or hurting the feelings of someone whose help she needed, she would lie.

The show was rather informal. Instead of waiting backstage, the performers sat in the audience. When one act ended, Sylvia Compson announced the next by calling the soloist or group to the front of the room. Several of the acts were skits, which, based upon the laughter from the audience, she assumed were supposed to be humorous. Since even the solemn Grace smiled, Julia decided that quilters must have inside jokes she simply didn’t understand.

Some of the performers were surprisingly good. One woman gave a dramatic monologue from Shakespeare; afterward Julia overheard that she was a professor of English literature at Brown. Vinnie and Donna nearly brought down the house with their rendition of “Who’s on First.” Even Julia had to laugh when Vinnie brandished a yellow plastic whiffle ball bat and shrieked, “I’ll break your arm if you say ‘Who’s on first!’” The audience roared with laughter so long that Donna grew flustered and forgot her next line. When Vinnie prompted her loudly enough to be heard in the back row, the laughter erupted again.

When the performers returned to their seats amid a shower of applause, Vinnie whispered to Julia, “Well?”

“I can honestly say that was the most original Abbott and Costello impersonation I’ve ever witnessed,” Julia said.

Vinnie looked pleased, but Donna said, “She’s just being nice. I stunk up the place.”

They laughed as Sylvia called the next performer to the stage. “Megan, dear, it’s your turn. Megan Donohue, everyone.”

As Megan went to the front of the room, two staff members wheeled a baby grand piano to the front of the stage. Megan flashed the audience a quick smile before she sat down at the bench and tested the keys.

“I should have done that instead,” Vinnie whispered. “I can play ‘Heart and Soul’ with my eyes closed.”

Donna stifled a giggle, then jumped in her seat as Megan’s hands suddenly crashed onto the keyboard in a resounding chord. To Julia’s astonishment, the aerospace engineer from Ohio was playing Chopin’s
Fantasy Impromptu
in C-sharp minor—and playing it well. Remarkably well, in fact. Soon Julia forgot herself and listened as breathlessly as the rest of the audience as the music flowed from the piano and washed over them. When the final notes died away, there was a moment of stunned silence before the listeners applauded wildly.

Megan returned to her seat, her cheeks flushed, pausing to accept congratulations as she went. “I bet you’re glad you stuck to comedy,” Donna teased Vinnie. Julia could tell from her proud expression that she had long known of Megan’s gift.

When Megan finally was able to sit down, Julia leaned over and said, “You play wonderfully.” Megan flashed her a quick, embarrassed smile and said nothing, but she looked pleased.

“Does anyone else wish to entertain us?” Sylvia called out from the front of the room. “Grace?”

Grace looked alarmed. “Not me.”

“Julia? How about you?”

To Julia it seemed as if everyone in the room suddenly turned in their seats to look at her. “Well …” Their eyes were so eager and expectant that she was at a loss for words.

“Oh, come on, dear. Surely you can’t have stage fright.”

Julia wavered. “I didn’t prepare anything.”

“Give me a break, honey,” Vinnie said, nudging her. Before Julia could protest, Donna and Megan had pulled her to her feet. The campers burst into cheers. Julia couldn’t help basking in the admiration as she went to the dais and seated herself at the piano. She warmed up with a few chords, then said, “Here’s a song I’m sure you all know. It suits this week very well, I think.”
Corny, but true
, she thought, especially for herself.

Julia had chosen “Climb Every Mountain” from
The Sound of Music.
She chose it not only because she thought it would appeal to this particular audience, but also because it was her standard musical audition song. She had rehearsed and performed it more times than she could count, and knew the phrasing and emphasis by heart. As a pianist she fell far short of Megan, but the tune was simple enough that she could play it flawlessly. Her voice sounded rich and full, and as she held the final note, she saw with satisfaction that her listeners were entranced.

As she rose and bowed to thunderous applause, Julia felt a contentment in her heart she hadn’t sensed in years. It had been far too long since she had performed for the sheer joy of it.

“You sure gave them a thrill,” Vinnie said over the cheers of the other campers when Julia returned to her seat. Julia glowed, delighting in their response. She lived for the stage, for the admiration and appreciation that only an audience could provide.
Family Tree
was over and she might never have another series, but her fans had not forgotten her. They still loved her.

Sylvia stood on the dais trying to quiet the audience. “Thank you to all our performers,” she said. “And now, if you’ll mark your ballots, we’ll select our winner.”

Julia felt a jolt. “Winner?”

“That’s right,” Vinnie said, handing her a stack of blue slips of paper and a handful of golf pencils. “The winner gets a prize. Donna, if we win, do you think we’ll each get a prize or will we have to split one?”

“We don’t have to worry,” Donna said.

Vinnie laughed, then raised her eyebrows at Julia. “Well, go on, honey. Take one and pass the rest down. Unless you’re planning to stuff the ballot box?”

Julia took one ballot and passed the rest on to Grace. She stole a glance at Megan, who was writing on her slip of paper, apparently unconcerned. Except for Julia herself, no one else had received such enthusiastic applause, and Julia never would have participated if she had known a winner would be selected. She was a professional; it was inappropriate for her to snatch a prize away from an amateur in an amateur competition. What if Julia won instead of Megan? Then she had a horrible thought: What if she
didn’t
win?

Quickly Julia scribbled her own name and handed the slip of paper to the staff member passing through the center aisle. Her heart pounded as Sylvia and her staff tallied the votes at the front of the room.

“Your attention, please,” Sylvia finally said, and the quilters fell silent. “I’m pleased to announce that by an overwhelming margin, the winner of the Campers’ Talent Show is—Julia Merchaud!”

Numb with relief, Julia went to the dais to receive her prize, acknowledging the audience’s applause as graciously as she could manage.

“Congratulations,” Grace said when Julia returned to her seat. She nodded in response.

“What did you win?” Vinnie asked.

Only then did Julia inspect her prize. Sylvia had given her an Elm Creek Quilts pin identical to those her friends had won on games night.

“Now we all have one,” Vinnie exclaimed, then caught herself. “Oh. Except for you, Megan.”

Megan shrugged. “We still have one more day of classes. Maybe I’ll have better luck tomorrow.” She smiled at Julia. “Congratulations.”

Suddenly Julia was stung by shame. “You deserve this more than I do.”

“What are you talking about? You won, fair and square.”

“But I only won because …” Because she was more popular, because she was famous, because the campers had been so thrilled to see a star perform live that they failed to see the merit of Megan’s performance. “I never should have entered.”

She tried to give Megan the pin, but Megan merely laughed off the gesture, as if she weren’t the least disturbed by the unfairness of the competition. Her refusal to become resentful only made Julia feel worse, and that unsettled her. After all, she had trampled over her competitors as long as she had been in Hollywood. More than once, she had stolen other actresses’ roles through conniving and manipulation. She had destroyed rivals’ careers by anonymously revealing their addictions to the media and had alienated more than one costar with her insistence on top billing. Many times Julia had deserved to lose, then reveled when she managed through luck or subterfuge to come out on top. But now, as the quilters bid each other good night and went off to their rooms, she felt oddly empty. Where was that familiar sense of triumph after a victory?

Clutching the pin in her fist, she went upstairs to sleep so she wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

On Friday morning, Vinnie waited, watching the clock, until she couldn’t wait any longer. She dialed Adam’s number and hoped she wouldn’t wake him.

“Hello?” he said groggily after the fifth ring.

“Good morning, honey,” she said brightly. “Did I wake you?”

“Nana?” In the background she heard bedsprings creak. “Is something wrong?”

“No, dear, I just wanted to be sure you’re planning to pick me up from quilt camp tomorrow.”

“Of course,” he said through a yawn. “I’ll be there around eleven.”

“Could you make it any earlier?” Vinnie glanced at the door as if someone might overhear. “Around ten, maybe?”

“I thought camp wasn’t over that early.”

“It’s not.”

“Don’t you have that special farewell breakfast? Why do you want to leave early?”

“I don’t want to leave early,” she said impatiently. “Goodness, Adam, can’t you just do as you’re told? Be here by ten or I’ll—just be here by ten.”

She hung up the phone before he could ask any more questions. That young man had a way of sneaking the truth out of her.

Friday passed so swiftly that before Megan knew it, her last full day of quilt camp was over. That evening, a comedy improv group comprised of students from nearby Waterford College put on an entertaining show, but the campers’ laughter was not as joyous as it would have been earlier in the week or even a day before. Already Megan felt nostalgic for camp, which was too soon coming to an end. She missed Robby, but part of her wished that she could stay at the elegant manor for another week of quilting and fun with her new friends.

After the show, Sylvia announced that the final breakfast would be served on the cornerstone patio, where they had held the Candlelight ceremony. “We’ll have one last good chat before you leave,” she said. “Bring something for show-and-tell.”

Julia looked dubious. “Show-and-tell?” she said in an undertone as the campers left the room and headed up the stairs. “As in grammar school?”

“Don’t be such a wet blanket,” Vinnie teased. “You’re never too old for show-and-tell.”

Megan suppressed a smile. She wondered how long it had been since someone had dared to tease the great Julia Merchaud.

Megan bid the others good night and went to her room to pack, but within a few minutes, she began to feel lonely. She set her suitcase aside and went down the hallway to Donna’s room, but before she could knock on the door, it opened. “I was just about to come to your room,” Donna exclaimed. “Come on in.”

“I can’t believe camp is over already,” Megan said, dropping dejectedly into a chair. “I feel like we just got here.”

Donna agreed, then settled in on the bed across from Megan. They talked for a while about how much the week had meant to them, then began to gossip about some of the other members of their internet quilting newsgroup. They were in near hysterics recalling a flame war about off-topic posts when a knock sounded on the door. Grace poked her head in and demanded to know what was so funny. By the time Megan finished recounting the tale, their threefold laughter elicited yet another knock.

“Come in,” they shouted together.

Vinnie peeked in. When she saw them, her face brightened. “Ooh, a party,” she exclaimed, and quickly ducked back outside again. In a moment she returned with a grocery bag. “We can’t have a party without refreshments.”

“You brought all this from home?” Megan said, eyeing the tins of homemade cookies, the bags of popcorn, and the jars of nuts.

“I thought I might get hungry on the drive.”

“Where were you driving from, Alaska?” Donna asked, helping herself to a few chocolate chip cookies.

“Ohio, wise guy,” Vinnie said, taking a jar of cashews for herself. “You know, all we’re missing are a few Chippendales dancers and this could be a real party.”