I've known you since you were a small child. There's no fooling me with that charm of yours.'
'Yes, ma'am.' Marc pretended to look contrite, and then smiled. Then he turned to me and shrugged. 'What now, granddaughter?'
I blushed, and I knew he could see it, so I looked around the shop trying to think of something to say. 'The diner's closing tonight?'
'After the lunch crowd. The owners told Eleanor she could have it all. Not that she wants a bunch of old kitchen equipment.' He smiled. 'Didn't Eleanor tell you all this already?'
'No,' I said. 'Why don't you start work on the diner, then, pulling out the old stuff and getting it cleaned up. How long will that take?'
'A few days.'
'Fine,' I continued. 'We'll close Wednesday, do inventory, and bring everything over to my grandmother's. Everyone in town knows where she lives. We can run the shop out of there for a few weeks. And Marc can wait until, say, Saturday to knock down this wall. In the meantime, we'll pack up whatever we can.'
'Fine with me,' Marc said. 'I have a doctor's appointment Thursday anyway.'
Nancy turned to me. 'I'll call our regulars,' she said, 'and let them know we're moving to Eleanor's for a while.'
'You do that,' I said. 'And don't worry about Marc. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything without my supervision. Okay?'
She laughed. 'Good luck with that, dear.' She drifted to the stairs and disappeared to the office below.
'Good thinking.' Marc threw an arm around me. He leaned his head in and rested it on mine. 'I like the idea of you supervising me.'
I let out a nervous laugh. 'Work fast,' I said, then pulled away. 'And don't cause any trouble.'
'Man, you are just like your grandmother.'
Less than twenty minutes after I arrived, Carrie was in the shop to confirm what Nancy had, apparently, told her on the phone. Several minutes later, Maggie arrived. Then Bernie. Then Susanne. Only Natalie was missing.
Carrie said twice to me and once to Susanne, 'Well, the shop needs to be bigger. I agree with that. But it's a shame to lose a place to get some coffee.'
'What about setting up some tables and making a little coffee shop in the store?' I suggested by way of compromise, and was verbally beaten in response.
'We'll have coffee all over the fabric,' said Nancy and Susanne.
'You can't run two businesses and do them both well,' declared Bernie.
'Have you ever had Eleanor's coffee?' whimpered Carrie. I had actually had my grandmother's coffee. And while it wasn't a halfdecaf soy latte, it was quite good.
I could see that no one was interested in a coffee and quilt shop. 'Just throwing out ideas,' I said in my defense. 'I'm sure my grandmother knows exactly what she wants in the space.'
'She certainly does,' Marc finally spoke.
'Thank you, Marc, but we'll talk with Eleanor about her plans.' Maggie gave him an icy stare I hadn't thought she was capable of. Only Carrie smiled at Marc and said she'd be interested in hearing what he had in mind.
'Can I start doing anything now, boss?' Marc asked, smiling broadly.
I looked around at the shop. 'We can move stuff away from the wall you're going to open up.' I looked toward Nancy. 'But only while I'm here helping.' She nodded her approval.
'Why don't you bundle up some of the out-of-season fabric?' Maggie suggested.
Nancy leaned against the checkout counter. 'I want to go through that for inventory first. Maybe pack up here, behind the register.'
Marc moved toward the register, but I stopped him. 'You grab a box and Nancy and I will take the stuff out of here.'
'I'll help,' Carrie volunteered, and stepped next to me.
I reached my arm into the deep shelf underneath the register, while Carrie hovered nearby.
'Be careful,' Maggie said. And no sooner had the words come out of her mouth than something bit my hand. I pulled it out immediately. Blood was running from my fingers.
'Oh, dear,' Carrie gasped, and grabbed antiseptic and a bandage from her tote bag. 'One good thing about having small children is you're prepared for anything.'
I went downstairs to the bathroom and tried to wash the blood away, but it kept coming. Just the tips of two fingers had cuts in them, but they were deep. I finally gave up trying and put the antiseptic and bandage on it, then went back upstairs.
Nancy was holding a flashlight and scanning the dark shelf. 'Found it,' she said. Carefully she held up a rotary cutter-a tool that looks like a pizza cutter but is designed for quick cutting of fabric. 'It was open.' She turned to me, a concerned look across her face. She put a cover over the sharp blade. 'These are really dangerous. You're so lucky it wasn't worse.'
I nodded. 'Maybe that's enough for today,' I suggested. 'Marc, just clean up and we'll worry about all this stuff after Wednesday. I'm going home.'
'I want to drop in on my son Brian,' Maggie announced as she picked up her purse. 'Nell, can you give me a lift? It's on your way.'
While Nancy and the others stood watching Marc, he just smiled at me and went back to measuring. I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, wondering just what I had gotten myself into by volunteering to stay in Archers Rest to help my grandmother.
CHAPTER 17
Maggie gave me the directions to her son's house as soon as we got in the car, and then we drifted into an uncomfortable silence. She fidgeted with her purse and looked out the window. I stared straight ahead at the road. Alone with her for the first time, I felt a little like a school child, afraid to talk in case she 'sssh'd' me. With the members of the quilt club she seemed like a different person, relaxed, younger. But with me, she was every bit the stern librarian she'd once been.
'Is this the son who's a state representative?' I finally asked.
'It is, but that's just a stopping point. He'll be governor one day,' she said proudly.
'My grandmother told me you have quite accomplished kids. Your son, plus a doctor, two lawyers, and an artist.'
'Sheila isn't a artist. She owns a kind of art gallery. She doesn't actually make the art herself.' There was a vague disapproval in her voice, but it quickly softened. 'She does have a good eye, though. She always finds something.'
'I wanted to be an artist when I was a kid. I used to love to paint. In fact, when I moved to New York I wanted to work in an art gallery, ' I confessed. 'Hanging out with artists all day seemed really fun. But I couldn't find a job, and I guess I sort of took a different road.'
'You have time to choose whatever road you like.' She took a deep breath and changed the subject. 'I wonder if Eleanor knows what she's doing. She takes people at their word, an admirable quality if she isn't being lied to.'
'What do you mean?'
'That's it on the left,' directed Maggie, and I pulled over to a pretty brick house with a well-tended garden.
'Maggie, can you please tell me what you meant?' I asked again.
'I didn't mean anything, except I think that Eleanor needs to be careful, and if she won't be careful, then you need to be careful for her.'
'Well, that certainly clears things up for me,' I said as Maggie got out of the car.
'You have her sarcasm,' Maggie said. 'Never cared for that in Eleanor.' She started to frown, but instead she shook her head and smiled. 'You really are like her.'
