Elm Creek Quilts [06] The Master Quilter (24 page)

Judy knew enough about Craig to doubt it, but she wanted to believe Steve was right. “So,” she said, remembering the question he had not yet answered. “What have you been trying to tell me?”

He stopped and took her gloved hands in his. “I want you to try very hard to get that job at Penn. And when they offer it to you, I very much want you to accept.”

Early the next week, a letter from the Department of Computer Sciences arrived and warmly informed her that she was one of five candidates for the position of associate professor. Thanks to Rick’s warning, Judy was able to assemble the information they requested well in advance of their deadline. As she sent it off via certified mail, she hoped they awarded points for promptness.

A week passed. Judy knew the supplemental information had arrived, but all Rick would say in his email was that the top three candidates would receive information about their campus visits by mid-March. He told her to be optimistic and reminded her to keep the week of March 24 open. The date sounded familiar, and one glance at the calendar confirmed it: The twenty-fourth was the first Monday of spring break, which would have been ideal for any professor not involved with Elm Creek Quilts. Torn, Judy eventually decided against asking Sarah to cancel her classes for the opening session of quilt camp. Her computer design classes had been filled for weeks, and she couldn’t ask any of her friends to take over her Bindings and Borders workshop when she had not yet had the chance to work the bugs out of her new lesson plans. Besides, she couldn’t cancel without offering an explanation.

Just in case, she revised her lesson plans carefully, making them so detailed that almost any of her friends could pick them up and run the class from scratch. After that, and in between her usual obligations, she worked on her guest lecture and grad student seminar, just in case. She grew accustomed to lifting a fork to her mouth with one hand and typing furiously on her laptop with her other, since her lunch break was the only time she could work unobserved. She felt a twinge of guilt thinking of how long ago she had last arranged to meet Gwen for lunch, but she promised herself she would make up for it after she returned from Penn. If they invited her.

On the first Friday of March, Judy spent an extended lunch break at the Daily Grind revising the last section of her lecture notes for the undergraduate course and wondering how much longer she would be able to endure the twin burdens of waiting for news from Penn and keeping her application a secret from her friends, especially when Steve was bursting to tell his colleagues about his triumphant interview earlier that week. Judy was thrilled for him and glowed when she recalled how the editors had praised his work, but she cautioned him to keep it to himself. If one did not count the transient population of college students, Waterford was like any small town, with at most three degrees of separation between any two residents. It was not easy to keep secrets when everyone knew someone who knew everyone else.

A shadow fell across the keyboard. “Hey, Judy.”

Judy jerked her head up, startled by Summer’s sudden greeting. “Oh, hi. How are you?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to interrupt. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s too hard to find a free table this time of day. Sit down.” Judy quickly saved her document and shut down the computer before moving it out of the way. “Are you working at Grandma’s Attic today?”

“Yes, I’m working.” A slight frown touched Summer’s lips, but it quickly vanished. “Diane came in, too. You should come by sometime and see all the new blocks for Sylvia’s quilt.”

“I’d love to. I need to buy fabric for my block, too.” Judy did not mention that she had stopped by the quilt shop on her way to work on that very errand and found the lights off and the door locked. Bonnie would not be happy to learn that her employees had not opened the store on time, but she wouldn’t hear about it from Judy.

As Summer ate, they talked about the upcoming camp season and about their progress on Sylvia’s bridal quilt, which Judy was embarrassed to admit had completely slipped her mind until the previous evening, when she had come across the invitation letter while cleaning her sewing table.

“If you run out of time you could always buy one of those bargain kits at the Fabric Warehouse,” said Summer with a teasing smile.

Judy’s heart thumped. They knew. That awful Mary Beth had told on her, just as she had insinuated.

Summer laughed. “I’m just kidding. You have plenty of time. I haven’t started my block, either.”

Relieved, Judy fought to compose herself and managed a feeble joke about Summer’s poor opinion of her. Summer left soon after that, so Judy got back to work before her guilty conscience gave away something more important than anxiety over a quilt block deadline.

As she glanced up to be sure Summer had gone, Judy’s gaze fell on two young men waiting in line. When the taller, golden-haired one turned her way, she recognized Diane’s youngest son, Todd, but she did not know his friend. They were laughing and joking and jostling each other, heady with the freedom of their off-campus senior lunch privileges. Todd paid for a cup of coffee and two frosted crullers, which he left on the counter while his friend placed his order. Just then, Todd bent over to tie his shoe, and in the moment while the server’s back was turned, Todd’s friend removed the lid from Todd’s cup, poured half the contents into the tip jar, and replaced the lid. By the time Todd rose and the counter clerk placed the friend’s drink on the counter, the friend was scanning the bakery case, hands in his coat pockets.

Surprised, Judy watched while the friend paid the cashier and Todd picked up his plate and coffee, tested the weight of the cup, frowned, and removed the lid. Judy could not hear his exchange with the clerk, but it was evident Todd complained and asked for his cup to be filled to the top. The server checked it, frowned in puzzlement, and was about to oblige when the woman next in line spoke up and gestured to the tip jar. The server looked from the tip jar to Todd, his expression stormy, and his voice rose enough for Judy to make out a demand that the two boys clean up the mess. Todd’s friend burst out laughing, grabbed his lunch, and made a quick dash for the door. Todd, obviously baffled, hurried after him.

“Don’t come back!” the server shouted.

Judy sighed and shook her head as the server took the tip jar to the sink, carefully poured out most of the coffee, and fished coins and soggy bills from the bottom in disgust. Judy wondered what Diane thought of her youngest son’s choice of friends. She was probably just relieved Todd got decent grades and kept his record clean, unlike his elder brother. To be fair, though, as far as Judy knew, Michael had given his parents no undue cause for worry ever since he had started college. Judy was thankful Emily was still young enough that she and Steve could exercise control over her social life, though she knew those days wouldn’t last.

She frowned, wondering if she should tell Diane about the prank. She would have, except she was so anxious about the campus invitation that had not yet come that she forgot about the young men by the time she left the coffee shop.

Technically the seventh day of March could not be considered the middle of the month even by the most generous estimate, but Judy still fretted over the lack of any word from Penn. She called home every afternoon to ask Steve if the campus invitation had arrived in the mail, even though she knew he would have called if it had. She could have managed more patience if Rick had sent her regular updates, but it would never occur to him to do so.

By the first business meeting of the month, Judy was a mess of distraction and worry. She drove to Elm Creek Manor mulling over her options and decided that the only reasonable choice was to wait until the fifteenth—indisputably mid-March—and contact Rick. In the meantime, she had other work to occupy her thoughts, plenty to do to keep herself from going crazy.

Even so, she had to force herself to concentrate on the business meeting, for every other topic reminded Judy of her job search. Enrollment reminded Judy of the possibility that Emily might enroll in a new school next autumn. Classroom assignments called to mind the wonderful new facility at Penn. The schedule for the first week of camp made Judy wince when she thought that if all went well, she would need Sarah to make additional changes to the plan she had worked so hard to arrange.

Then, suddenly, her cell phone rang. Quickly retrieving it from her bag, aware of Sarah’s subtle frown, Judy checked the display. She made a hasty apology and hurried into the hallway. “Steve?” she said breathlessly into the phone.

“Judy? I have great news.”

“What is it?”

“They just called. I got the job.”

A momentary rush of joy quickly dispersed. “
You
got the job?”

“Isn’t that fantastic? They want me to start as soon as I can—do you believe it? If everything goes well, I might even get my own political commentary column within a year.” He paused. “Honey?”

“Wow, Steve.” She forced more enthusiasm into her voice. “I knew you’d get it. How could they not recognize your talent?”

“There’s more, but we can talk about it when you get home. I just had to let you know.”

“I’m glad you did.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then told him she had to get back to the meeting, but she’d come home immediately afterward.

They hung up, and Judy returned to the parlor with an apologetic smile for Sarah. She assumed a look of interest as Sarah continued on uninterrupted. Of course Steve got the job; he was talented and experienced. He deserved it. How soon would he have to respond? What could he say until Judy heard something from Penn? She had not even been asked to interview on campus yet. She might not be asked. How could she expect Steve to pass up this job when an opportunity like it might never come again?

The phone rang on her lap. She jumped, checked the display, and raced into the hall, treading on Bonnie’s tote bag on her way. “Steve?”

“Honey, I’m sorry I got carried away. I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting.”

She forced a laugh. “If you know that, why are you doing it again?”

“Because—look, I don’t want you to think I have my heart set on this job.”

“Of course not,” she said, thinking,
Of course you do
.

“If you don’t get the Penn job, I’ll just tell them no.”

“Well …” She glanced back at the doorway to the parlor. “Would they let you work from Waterford? Telecommute?”

He hesitated. “I didn’t think to ask, but that’s an option. I don’t think that would be their first choice, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“Don’t ask yet. I might still get the job.”

“Yeah.” He sounded deflated.

“We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”

He agreed. They ended the call and Judy returned to the meeting, pretending not to notice Sarah’s glare. She tried to listen carefully for the rest of the meeting, but her thoughts were in turmoil, and within minutes Sarah issued a plea for attention. She addressed the entire group, but Judy knew she was the only one there who had earned the reprimand.

The days passed. Judy prepared for midterm exams and the first week of quilt camp and waited, but the only news she received was Gwen’s mournful email telling her that Summer had moved in with her boyfriend. Judy wasn’t surprised; although she sympathized with Gwen’s tangible dismay, Summer was a grown woman and many grown women made similar choices these days. She tried not to think too much about what Emily would be doing at that age.

She decided a shopping trip to Grandma’s Attic would lift her spirits and distract her for a while. She still needed fabric for Sylvia’s block, and she also wanted to take Summer’s suggestion and examine the other contributors’ blocks. If several other people had used the same pattern she had selected, she would prefer to choose something else.

She took a chance on stopping by the quilt shop before work, glad to discover the late opening earlier that month must have been an anomaly. Perhaps that was because Bonnie herself was inside, rearranging a display of spring floral fabrics. She looked somewhat drained, as if it were the end of a busy workday rather than the beginning, but she was neatly attired in a pair of slacks and twin set Judy did not recognize.

“Good morning,” Judy said with a smile, hoping to cheer up her friend. “I love that outfit. Is it new?”

Bonnie glanced down at her clothing absentmindedly. “Oh. Yes, it is. Thanks. Agnes helped me pick it out.”

“Did she? Maybe I’ll ask her to go with Steve next time he shops for my birthday present. Remember that cardigan he bought me two years ago, the one Diane called the lightning bolt sweater?”

Bonnie rewarded her joke with a smile. “Did he ever find out you always changed into something else when you got to the lab?”

“Are you kidding? He thinks it’s still in the back of my closet, awaiting the right occasion.”

Judy knew it was more likely he had completely forgotten the sweater, which was just an afterthought to the tickets to Vail they had bought for each other that Christmas, but Bonnie laughed, so Judy didn’t mind a little exaggeration at her husband’s expense. Bonnie herself often joked about Craig’s annoying habits until she had the Elm Creek Quilters doubled over in laughter, but come to think about it, Bonnie had not shared any amusing stories about him in a long time. Maybe Craig just wasn’t funny anymore.