“No,” I said. “This trip is our treat. Thanks to you, we can afford it.”
“Oh, posh. All I did was co-sign for the loan. I knew you’d be good for it.” Aunt Rickie craned her neck, looking all around the workshop. “And I was right! You must be doing well to afford all this.”
“Most of this is mortgaged,” I laughed. “But we are doing well. But that first loan helped me sell enough dresses so the bank would loan us money to expand. We could never have done it without you. I think that’s probably worth a trip and a dinner, don’t you?”
It was a wonderful party. I felt so happy, for so many reasons.
Dianne Maestro, the woman who made the quilt from her husband George’s ties, came and brought her sister-in-law. They stood in front of George’s portrait and cried, but they were good tears. Becky Jones and her husband, Roger, came and brought their parents to see the crib quilt Becky made. It was sweet to see Becky and Roger standing together in front of the quilt holding hands.
After a few minutes, Luke came up behind me and whispered in my ear, “Should I get Becky a chair or something? She looks like she’s going to deliver that baby any minute.”
“She’s okay,” I said. “Still has a month to go.”
Luke wrapped his arms around my waist, then kissed me on the neck.
“You are one incredible woman, Grace. Do you know that? Look at all these people you’ve brought together. Look at all these lives you’ve impacted.”
“You mean the lives we’ve impacted. If you hadn’t stalked me in Starbucks, or built me a sewing table, or taught me to dance, it would still be just me and Maisie, living in the condo and hiding from life. Credit where credit is due, mister.”
“Okay, fine. I helped with some of it,” he said, squeezing me. “But the quilts are all you. I can’t even sew on a button.”
“Yes, I know,” I laughed. “But you have other skills.” I placed a hand on top of his and moved it low, over a small, new swell at my waistline. “I was thinking, I might want to make another quilt. One about that size.”
I pointed to Becky’s pink and white crib quilt, then waited for Luke to pull the pieces together. Honestly, it took a little longer than I thought it would. Finally, after about six seconds of silence, he let go of my waist and took hold of my shoulders, turning me toward him. His eyes were wide.
“Wait. What? Grace, really?”
I nodded and my face split into a goofy, joyous grin that mirrored his.
“Really?” he said again. “How?”
I laughed. “What do you mean how?”
“No . . . I meant . . . You know, when?”
“Well . . . I can’t be entirely sure—you’ve been pretty aggressive about The Project—but I’m pretty sure it was in the stairwell.”
“The stairwell? You mean the very first night?” Luke wrapped his arms around my waist, lifted me off the floor, and swung me in a circle. “What did I tell you when I first saw this building? Didn’t I tell you it was lucky?”
I looped my arms around Luke’s neck and laughed, laughed for joy, and life, and complete, perfect, incandescent happiness.
“You know what else is lucky?” I asked, then kissed him again. “Me.”
Dear Reader,
Just in Time was one of the most challenging books I have ever written. Perhaps because she is a bit shy, Grace in particular took some time to reveal herself to me.
But the more I got to know Grace, Nan, and Monica, the more they began to feel like friends, the kind of women I would love to have for a next-door neighbor. After reading their story, I hope you feel the same way.
If so, I would so appreciate it if you’d help spread the word about this book! Please tell your friends, family, and book club about Just in Time. Word of mouth from passionate readers is the very best form of advertising and the greatest compliment that any author can receive. It can make a huge difference in helping a book find an audience.
I do love hearing from readers. I read every note personally and do my best to make sure each note receives a response. If you have a moment, drop me an e-mail at [email protected] or by regular mail. Please note, after spending my entire writing career in Connecticut, I have recently moved back to my home state of Oregon, so I have a new mailing address....
Marie Bostwick
18160 Cottonwood Road
PMB 118
Bend, Oregon 97707
These days, social media is the easiest, fastest way for me to connect with readers. You can find me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/mariebostwick/ and on Twitter, Pin-terest, and Instagram by searching @mariebostwick.
Also, please take some time to visit my website, www.mariebostwick.com. While you’re there you can sign up for my monthly newsletter, check my calendar to see if I’ll be making an appearance in your area, enter the monthly reader giveaway, and download free recipes and quilt patterns created exclusively for my readers. To find them, go to the Quilt Central tab on my website and choose Patterns and Recipes from the pulldown menu. (Please note, these patterns and recipes are for your personal use only and may not be copied to share with others or published by any means, either print or electronic.)
I’ve been pretty busy writing the actual story, so I haven’t been doing a lot of quilting or cooking lately. However, you can be sure that I’ll have a new companion pattern available for this book, based on the memory quilt that Grace makes in the story. I have been in discussion with Deb Tucker, the extraordinary designer and dear friend who has
