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Authors: Clare O'Donohue
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tonight, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said. I was trying to figure out if it was rude to ask any of the obvious questions, but I couldn’t help myself. “Where do you live?” I finally asked.
Kennette blushed. “I don’t have the most ideal living situation,” she said. “And I’m kind of broke, so I don’t have a lot of options.”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem to stay at my grandmother’s tonight.”
She lit up. “That would be great.”
“Where were you planning to sleep anyway? I mean, if you came to Archers Rest tonight.”
“I don’t know. I would have figured out something.”
I stood back in awe. Awe and fear. With a little bit of envy thrown in. Could I be so free-spirited? And if I was, would I be as good an artist?
As we left the classroom, I quickly dialed the shop but got no answer. I knew it wouldn’t be a problem with Eleanor to bring home a guest, but I was starting to wonder if Kennette had the common sense to work in a quilt shop. Not that I could stop her at this point. She was a stray cat, and having fed her she was going to come back, day after day, looking for more. And just like a stray cat, there was something endearing in that.
We were heading toward the car when we both suddenly stopped. At the far end of the parking lot Sandra was in tears while Oliver tried, apparently in vain, to comfort her.
“What do we do?” Kennette whispered to me.
“Leave, I guess. I doubt they’ve even noticed we’re here.”
“Why is she crying?”
“Maybe because your ‘talent’ trumped her ‘best in class,’” I suggested.
Kennette looked surprised. “Oh, I hope not. I wouldn’t want something I’ve done to have hurt anyone.”
I laughed—probably not the right thing to do because it confused Kennette and caused Oliver and Sandra to look our way. It was just that Kennette’s words were so sincere, and so kind, and so unlike anything I would have said.
As soon as Sandra spotted us, she jumped into a car and sped away. Oliver seemed embarrassed, but in seconds his mood had changed.
“Ladies, how did you enjoy class?” he called out cheerily as he approached.
At this Kennette immediately swooned. “It was great. I learned a lot. I couldn’t believe how much I learned.”
I was mortified. “I wasn’t laughing at Sandra,” I tried to explain. “I was laughing at something Kennette said.”
Oliver waved it off. “We artists are excitable creatures. It’s what makes us interesting lovers and terrible spouses. Where are you off to, then?”
“Work,” I replied.
“At your grandmother’s shop,” he said. “Isn’t that where you work?”
“Where we both work,” Kennette jumped in.
He looked over at her. “How lovely. And you’re both going there now?”
“Yes,” I said, amazed that he would take the time to chat.
“I’m absolutely fascinated by quilting. A wonderful and underappreciated art form. I’ve always wanted to study a quilt up close and really see the workmanship of a master.”
Really? I thought. Because if that were true, there were quilt shows.
But what I said was, “It’s really endless, what you can do with fabric.”
“You should see Nell’s grandmother’s quilts,” Kennette said. “She’s really wonderful. She has them all over her shop.”
I was about to point out that Oliver was too busy to bother with my grandmother’s quilts when he turned to me.
“Mind if I follow you there?” he asked.
“To the shop?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “It’s in Archers Rest. That’s about a half hour from here.”
“Lovely day for a drive.” He smiled.
“That’s our car,” Kennette offered, pointing to my mine, just a few feet away.
“Fantastic. I’ll be right behind you.” Oliver practically ran off to his car.
CHAPTER 10
A half hour later we were parking in front of Someday Quilts. In my rearview mirror I saw Oliver patting his hair.
“What is he up
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said. I was trying to figure out if it was rude to ask any of the obvious questions, but I couldn’t help myself. “Where do you live?” I finally asked.
Kennette blushed. “I don’t have the most ideal living situation,” she said. “And I’m kind of broke, so I don’t have a lot of options.”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem to stay at my grandmother’s tonight.”
She lit up. “That would be great.”
“Where were you planning to sleep anyway? I mean, if you came to Archers Rest tonight.”
“I don’t know. I would have figured out something.”
I stood back in awe. Awe and fear. With a little bit of envy thrown in. Could I be so free-spirited? And if I was, would I be as good an artist?
As we left the classroom, I quickly dialed the shop but got no answer. I knew it wouldn’t be a problem with Eleanor to bring home a guest, but I was starting to wonder if Kennette had the common sense to work in a quilt shop. Not that I could stop her at this point. She was a stray cat, and having fed her she was going to come back, day after day, looking for more. And just like a stray cat, there was something endearing in that.
We were heading toward the car when we both suddenly stopped. At the far end of the parking lot Sandra was in tears while Oliver tried, apparently in vain, to comfort her.
“What do we do?” Kennette whispered to me.
“Leave, I guess. I doubt they’ve even noticed we’re here.”
“Why is she crying?”
“Maybe because your ‘talent’ trumped her ‘best in class,’” I suggested.
Kennette looked surprised. “Oh, I hope not. I wouldn’t want something I’ve done to have hurt anyone.”
I laughed—probably not the right thing to do because it confused Kennette and caused Oliver and Sandra to look our way. It was just that Kennette’s words were so sincere, and so kind, and so unlike anything I would have said.
As soon as Sandra spotted us, she jumped into a car and sped away. Oliver seemed embarrassed, but in seconds his mood had changed.
“Ladies, how did you enjoy class?” he called out cheerily as he approached.
At this Kennette immediately swooned. “It was great. I learned a lot. I couldn’t believe how much I learned.”
I was mortified. “I wasn’t laughing at Sandra,” I tried to explain. “I was laughing at something Kennette said.”
Oliver waved it off. “We artists are excitable creatures. It’s what makes us interesting lovers and terrible spouses. Where are you off to, then?”
“Work,” I replied.
“At your grandmother’s shop,” he said. “Isn’t that where you work?”
“Where we both work,” Kennette jumped in.
He looked over at her. “How lovely. And you’re both going there now?”
“Yes,” I said, amazed that he would take the time to chat.
“I’m absolutely fascinated by quilting. A wonderful and underappreciated art form. I’ve always wanted to study a quilt up close and really see the workmanship of a master.”
Really? I thought. Because if that were true, there were quilt shows.
But what I said was, “It’s really endless, what you can do with fabric.”
“You should see Nell’s grandmother’s quilts,” Kennette said. “She’s really wonderful. She has them all over her shop.”
I was about to point out that Oliver was too busy to bother with my grandmother’s quilts when he turned to me.
“Mind if I follow you there?” he asked.
“To the shop?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “It’s in Archers Rest. That’s about a half hour from here.”
“Lovely day for a drive.” He smiled.
“That’s our car,” Kennette offered, pointing to my mine, just a few feet away.
“Fantastic. I’ll be right behind you.” Oliver practically ran off to his car.
CHAPTER 10
A half hour later we were parking in front of Someday Quilts. In my rearview mirror I saw Oliver patting his hair.
“What is he up
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