Left Holding the Bag

  Left Holding the Bag: A Quilting Cozy

  Carol Dean Jones

  Chapter 1

  “Some woman is moving into your house,” Sophie announced excitedly when Sarah answered the phone.

  “My house? What do you mean?”

  “Your old house,” Sophie explained. “There’s a van out there, and I saw them carry in two sewing machines. Do you suppose she quilts?” Sophie added eagerly.

  When Sarah first moved to the retirement community, she lived in a one-story townhome directly across the street from Sophie. Since that time, Sarah had married a retired detective and moved to a single-family home just a few blocks away and still within the community.

  “She may be a quilter,” Sarah responded. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon. Let’s give her time to get settled, and then perhaps we can stop by and welcome her.”

  “Great idea, and that’s why I’m calling,” Sophie responded. “I just made an apple pie, and I’m taking it over. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Aren’t the movers still there?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes, but…”

  “Sophie, slow down. Let the poor woman get moved in before descending on her.” Sophie was always eager to get involved when new people moved into Cunningham Village and had been a godsend to Sarah when she arrived, alone and feeling desolate. After her husband had died and her daughter had convinced her to move into a retirement community, she had lost everything that was familiar to her. And that’s when Sophie came knocking on her door. Remembering how much that visit had meant to her, Sarah began to back down. “Maybe we could just stop by for a minute and welcome her,” she said hesitantly.

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Come on over, and we’ll take the pie to her. And bring ice cream if you have any.”

  Sarah sighed and pulled a container of French vanilla ice cream from the freezer still holding the phone. She was glad to be getting rid of it since it had been a constant struggle to keep Charles on the diet his doctor had ordered after his most recent stroke.

  “I’m on my way,” Sarah replied, hanging up the phone and reaching for a jacket. It was mid-April, and there was a nip in the air earlier when she let Barney out.

  Sarah felt somewhat better about descending upon the new neighbor once she turned the corner and saw that the moving van was pulling away. At least she’s alone now, Sarah assured herself. It won’t seem quite so intrusive.

  Sophie was waiting on her porch when Sarah walked up with Barney in tow. “Your dog’s coming with us?” Sophie commented in a disapproving tone.

  “No, I thought Barney could stay in your backyard and play with Emma until we get back.”

  “Good idea,” Sophie exclaimed. “Emma’s been moping around here all morning waiting for Norman.” Sophie’s new gentleman friend had been dropping by most mornings for coffee and had been taking Emma to the dog park. “My hip’s been acting up, and I haven’t been walking her much. We just wait for Norman, but I haven’t heard from him this morning,” she added looking disappointed. “Maybe he’s not coming today.”

  Sarah smiled to herself, thinking how good Norman has been for her friend. They got together almost daily and sent text messages back and forth when they were apart.

  “Oh, there he is now,” Sophie exclaimed, looking down at her phone which had just signaled an incoming text. “Oh,” she said reading his message. “He’s not coming until later, but he wants to take me to lunch. Wait a minute while I respond.” She sat down and punched a few buttons, then slipped the phone back into her pocket and smiled impishly. “He’ll be here in an hour.”

  When Sarah tapped on the door that used to be her own, it was opened by a tall, attractive woman who appeared to be somewhat younger than most of the village residents. “I’d say she’s in her early sixties,” Sarah was to tell her husband Charles later.

  Sarah and Sophie introduced themselves, and Sophie handed the woman the tote bag which contained the pie and ice cream. She pointed out that the pie was hot and the ice cream cold and that the woman might want to separate them right away. Sarah knew Sophie was hoping for a serving of each, but their new neighbor took them into the kitchen and stuck them both in the refrigerator. Sophie started to suggest that she leave the pie out since it was warm, but Sarah poked her and shook her head.

  “I’m Bernice Jenkins,” the woman said, “and you’ll have to excuse the mess…”

  “We know what it’s like to be moving,” Sarah responded, hoping to put the woman at ease. “Is there anything we can do to help?” Sarah glanced around the room, looking for something familiar, but with the boxes and drop clothes, she didn’t see anything of her old home.

  Sophie was still waiting for an invitation to sit and have pie and ice cream, but the invitation never came. “I appreciate the thought. That was very kind of you both,” the woman said as she walked back toward the front door. “I hope we can get together soon and get to know each other, but right now I’ve got to start dealing with these boxes. Again, thank you.” By that time, she had the front door open, and there was no choice but for Sarah and Sophie to walk through it and cross the street to Sophie’s house.

  “That was strange,” Sophie said once they were inside. Sarah went into Sophie’s kitchen to let the dogs in and returned to the living room where Sophie was now sitting by the window.

  “It was indeed strange,” Sarah agreed, “but she just arrived and probably is overwhelmed by all the work ahead of her.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Sophie responded, “but it felt like a major brush off to me.”

  A few minutes later they heard a car pull up. Sophie peeked through the curtains and announced that a straggly-looking young man was getting out of the car. “Now the car’s pulling away and the guy just walked into Bernice’s house without knocking.”

  “I’m sure it’s okay, Sophie. Let’s make a pot of tea.”

  “I don’t know,” Sophie replied shaking her head. “That rusted-out heap of a car and that ragtag guy -- something just doesn’t seem right.”

  Nothing else was said about the new neighbor until Sophie and Sarah sat down to tea. “I just hope that guy isn’t over there eating my apple pie,” Sophie grumbled.

  * * *

  “How old was the guy?” Charles asked after Sarah caught him up on her morning activities with Sophie.

  “I didn’t see him, but Sophie said he looked like he might be in his early twenties, but she said it was hard to tell. She said he looked unkempt like some of the homeless men that come to the soup kitchen where she volunteers. But Bernice must have known him. He walked right in without knocking.”

  “She might have been expecting him, and that’s why you and Sophie got the brush off when you took Sophie’s pie and my ice cream to her.”

  “First of all, it wasn’t your ice cream. I bought that for the kids when they’re here. Your low-fat, sugar-free ice cream is right there in the freezer, but you might be right about what felt like a brush off. He arrived shortly after we left.”

  “How long did he stay?”

  “We didn’t see him leave, but we were in the kitchen. He might still be there for all I know.”

  At that moment, the phone rang.

  “Hi Sophie,” Sarah answered. “I thought you were going out to lunch?”

  “Norman and I just left, but I noticed that Bernice’s car is gone now.”

  “She’s probably gone to the store,” Sarah responded.

  “I could see her in the kitchen. She doesn’t have her curtains up yet.”

  “And you think maybe the man that was there took her car?”

  “I believe that’s possible.”

  Sarah had the phone on speaker so she could continue
stirring the stew she was warming up for lunch, and the conversation caught Charles’ attention. “What difference does it make where the car is?” Charles asked. “Maybe the guy is family, and he borrowed her car, or maybe he went shopping for her.”

  “I don’t know,” Sophie responded, hearing Charles’ comment. “He didn’t look like any family I’d want to have.”

  “My unsolicited advice,” Charles began, “would be for you women to pull in your antennae and get out of this newcomer’s business.”

  “My feeling exactly,” a male voice on Sophie’s end announced emphatically. Apparently, Sophie was using the speaker as well.

  “Hi Norman,” Charles called. “Thanks for the support.”

  “You bet,” Norman responded. “Do you two want to go into Hamilton with us tonight? A client gave me four tickets to the stage play, Moon over the Mountain.”

  Charles and Sarah looked at one another and shrugged. “Might as well,” Sarah mouthed to her husband.

  “We’re in,” Charles responded.

  “We’ll pick you up at seven,” Norman replied.

  Sophie had met Norman Hill the previous summer when he was making a presentation at the Cunningham Village community center. Norman was a semi-retired event planner. He owned Top of the Hill, a very successful event-planning company specializing in weddings and had attempted to retire more than once, but was always drawn back in by his love of the business.

  “That will be fun,” Sarah commented as she hung up. Turning to Charles, she asked, “What are your plans for the afternoon?”

  “I’m going to the gym for a while and then a steam,” he responded looking pleased with himself as he added, “Just as the doctor ordered.”

  “I think I’ll come along,” Sarah replied. She didn’t want to work out at the gym other than spending some time on the treadmill, but the idea of lounging in the Jacuzzi after a rigorous swim in the indoor pool appealed to her.

  At precisely seven o’clock, a Mercedes pulled up in front of the Parker’s house, and Norman hopped out to open the doors for Sarah and Charles.

  “Bernice’s car is still missing,” Sophie said once her friends were settled in the back seat.

  “Charles has convinced me to mind my own business,” Sarah responded with a wink.

  “Okay. Come over in the morning, and we’ll mind our own business together.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Norman caught Charles’ eye in the rearview mirror and shook his head.

  “What can you do?” Charles replied with a hopeless shrug.

  Chapter 2

  When Sarah arrived at Sophie’s house the next morning, Bernice’s front door was open, and Bernice was walking toward the curb with a trash bag in one hand and several boxes in the other. Sarah waved and Bernice nodded. She continued toward the curb and added her items to the pile. She gave Sarah a quick wave once her hands were free and returned to her house, closing the door behind her.

  Not a very talkative person, Sarah thought as she continued toward Sophie’s door.

  “I see you tried to engage our new neighbor,” Sophie said as she opened the door for Sarah.

  “She’s probably just involved in getting settled.”

  “She’s been carrying boxes out to the curb all morning,” Sophie responded, confirming Sarah’s suspicion that her friend was spending her time behind the curtain at the front window.

  “Did the car ever get returned? I see it’s not there again this morning.”

  “No, he never brought it back.”

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “I have no idea,” Sophie responded, “but let’s talk about it in the kitchen. I just baked cinnamon buns for us to have with our coffee.”

  “You’re determined to fatten me up, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t be the only chubby one,” Sophie announced. “Eat up,” she added as she placed the platter of steaming buns on the table and began pouring coffee. Barney gently tugged on Sarah’s pant leg, and she realized Emma was in the backyard and Barney was eager to join her.

  They had just settled down and were enjoying their snack when there was a tapping at the front door. “I wonder who that is?” Sophie said as she carefully stood and waited a moment before moving until her knees and hips were adequately engaged. “This getting old is for the birds,” she muttered as she finally headed for the door.

  “It might be Charles,” Sarah called after her. “I forgot my cell phone, and he might be bringing it to me. He keeps telling me he wants me to have it with me at all times.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Sophie responded. “Norman says the same thing.” Sarah smiled to herself, knowing that until Sophie met her new gentleman friend, she had refused to even own a cell phone. Now she carried one in her pocket so she wouldn't miss his calls.

  When Sophie opened the door, she was taken aback to find Bernice Jenkins standing there. Recovering quickly, Sophie greeted her enthusiastically and invited her to join them in the kitchen.

  “I hope you don’t mind me stopping in like this,” Bernice began apologetically, “but I saw that your friend was here and I just had to apologize to both of you for my behavior yesterday.”

  “No need for that,” Sophie responded. “Come on in.” Sophie led her guest back to the kitchen saying jovially, “We’re pigging out on cinnamon buns, and we need your help with it. Sarah, look who’s here!”

  “Bernice,” Sarah greeted her with a warm smile, hiding her surprise. “I’m glad you came by. My friend and I were just talking about something we wanted to ask you.”

  “I hope I can answer your question,” she responded, “but first, I want to apologize to you both. I know I rushed you ladies out yesterday. I was embarrassed about the state of my house and totally overwhelmed by all those boxes. I can’t imagine how my few belongings can fill so many boxes!”

  Sarah and Sophie both chuckled and nodded their agreement. “But it will all disappear once you get things put into the closets and cupboards,” Sarah assured her. “I just went through it not that long ago.”

  “You just moved here?” Bernice responded looking surprised.

  “No, I’ve been here four years now, but I moved into a single-family home.”

  “Here in the Village?”

  “Yes,” Sarah responded.

  “In fact,” Sophie interjected, “she moved out of the townhome you’re moving into.”

  “Really?” Bernice responded, looking surprised. “Why did you move?”

  Sophie, not giving Sarah a chance to respond, said, “Sarah met this very handsome gentleman, fell in love, married him, and together they moved into their own home just a few blocks away on Sycamore Court.”

  “That’s nice,” Bernice responded warmly, smiling at Sarah. “So there’s life after sixty, I guess?”

  “There sure is, especially here in Cunningham Village,” Sophie responded. “Just wait until I take you over to the community center. You won’t believe your eyes. Have a seat, and I’ll pour you a cup of coffee,” she added gesturing to the empty chair as she reached into the cupboard for a mug.

  There was a scratching at the back door and Sophie opened it, letting the dogs in. “I hope you don’t mind dogs,” she said addressing Bernice.

  “I love animals,” she answered. “I was thinking about getting a cat, but…” She didn’t finish the sentence because she was now surrounded by two excited dogs competing for her attention.

  “Okay,” Sophie began once she got the dogs settled down. “On to what we want to ask you. First of all, I’ll have to admit to being that nosey neighbor who watches moving vans being unloaded to see what the new neighbors own, and we want to ask you about those sewing machines I saw going in. You sew?”

  “I don’t make clothes or anything if that’s what you mean. I only use my machine for quilting.”

  “You quilt!” Sarah exclaimed. “That’s what we were hoping. I’ve been quilting for a few years, and Sophie here is just starting,
and she’s quilting by hand. She made her first quilt for her son and my daughter who just got married.”

  “To each other?” Bernice asked, looking surprised.

  “Yes, to each other,” Sarah responded proudly. “My daughter, Martha, met Sophie’s son, Timothy, when he was here visiting from Alaska where he was working on the pipeline.”

  “He retired this past year,” Sophie interjected, “and moved here with his teenage daughter, Penny. He and Martha got married this past summer.”

  “They’re a family already,” Bernice exclaimed. “That sounds really nice, especially for you two.”

  Sophie and Sarah looked at each other and Bernice could immediately see how close these two friends were. “We are both thrilled about it, and I have a granddaughter now!” Sophie responded as she stood up to get the coffee pot. As she was refilling their cups, she said, “So, how long have you been quilting, Bernice?”

  “Well, I got started not long after my mother died,” she began.

  “Sorry,” Sarah said.

  “It was a long time ago,” Bernice said responding to Sarah’s sympathetic tone. “My mother left two sewing machines and a room filled with fabric and projects she had started. I just couldn’t let it go, so I took a class and started making charity quilts for Children’s Services.”

  “Children’s Services?” Sarah asked.

  “They investigate reports of abuse and neglect and sometimes have to remove children from their homes. They like to have quilts on hand for these children.”

  “That's an excellent idea," Sarah responded. "Quilts can be very comforting to children."

  “The police also keep a few in the trunk of their cruisers for emergencies,” Bernice added.

  “How did you get started with this?” Sarah asked. She had been making charity quilts with her quilt club, but primarily they made lap quilts for people in the homeless shelters and for the elderly in nursing homes. They’d been searching for new projects.

  “My husband and I never had children, and we became foster parents back in the1980s.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Sarah responded, “but it must have been difficult.”