Quilty Until Proven Innocent
Chapter 1.
Ettie sat on the couch, scissors in hand, glaring at the fabric. When Elsa-May had suggested sewing a quilt to use as a throw, it had seemed like a good idea. Now, Ettie just wanted to be done with it.
"Don't give it that look," Elsa-May said from her chair, adjusting her glasses.
"I shouldn't have agreed to this. It'll take us a year to finish at this rate."
Elsa-May shrugged. "You agreed fair and square. I didn't have to twist your arm."
"I only agreed because you wore me down. And because you wouldn't stop talking about how 'cozy' it'd be to have a quilt on the couch like Maggie has at her place.”
Elsa-May's eyes twinkled. "Picture it—us, wrapped up on a cold winter day, sipping tea, surrounded by love—well, my love. Your aggravation."
"You forgot something very important," Ettie said.
"Oh?"
"Sharing. You're terrible at it. Remember when we were kids and had to share a bed that time? I woke up frozen and you’d taken the entire thing for yourself. I had a nasty cold for a week after that.”
Elsa-May laughed. "I was asleep! I didn't do it on purpose." She paused. "Don't you think it'll be nice once it's finished?"
"Once I start something, I like to finish it. That's why I don't like knitting—it's too slow. Now cooking is fine because it only takes a little time, and then you can eat it."
"What you need is patience. You've never really had any. Always looking out the window wanting to go somewhere. Always wanting excitement. Always—"
Ettie looked down frowning at the scissors. "Keep it up, and I'll lose what patience I have. That brings me to something else that’s been bothering me. You’re being very friendly with Maggie lately.”
Elsa-May smirked. “I think you’re hungry. Why don’t we have a break?”
Kelly, their orange cat, perked up at the word "break" and batted at a loose thread.
"See? Even Kelly agrees," Elsa-May said.
Ettie sighed at the fabric pile. "Fine—after this square."
Snowy, their dog, plopped at Elsa-May's feet with a noise that sounded like an exaggerated sigh.
"You're all so dramatic," Elsa-May muttered, nudging him with her foot. "You've been watching Ettie too much."
Ettie held up the finished square triumphantly. "Done.”
"Finally." Elsa-May stretched her arms overhead.
"I've got a good idea. Why not sew pockets into the quilt for snacks?" Ettie suggested.
“Snacks like crumbling cookies?" Elsa-May got to her feet.
"Well, it's just an idea. It would save us getting up and going to the kitchen. It's a wonder no one's thought of that before."
"Hmm, crumbs everywhere. Not your best idea, Ettie." Elsa-May headed to the kitchen. "I've got half a pumpkin pie left," she called, pulling plates from the cupboard.
Ettie followed and filled the kettle. "For all your longing for a couch quilt, I've done most of the sewing."
"I'm supervising."
"Or avoiding."
Elsa-May handed over a plate. “I’m good at doing two things at once.”
"You could argue your way out of anything."
They sat at the table with warm drinks and pie. After a contented sigh, Elsa-May said, “This quilt is one of the best ideas I’ve had.”
Ettie paused mid-bite. "I'll remind you of that when you're untangling Kelly from thread later. What we need is a quilting bag like you've got a knitting bag for your wool. We could put everything in there so it's safe from Kelly when we aren’t around to watch over it.” Ettie chuckled thinking about how large it would have to be.
Elsa-May wasn’t really listening to Ettie’s strange idea. She set down her teacup. “Good idea. Now, I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you. There's an antique quilt display at the town hall tomorrow."
"I know. I heard about it."
"Yes, but what you don't know is that we're going. Maggie is picking us up."
Ettie took a moment to get used to the idea. “Maggie again? Are you sure you wouldn't rather go with just Maggie? Just the two of you?”
"Of course not. Maggie is going and she asked if we'd like to come along so I said yes. She has a horse and buggy and we don't otherwise we'd have to get a taxi and taxis cost money.”
What Elsa-May said made sense but still, Ettie couldn't help being a little annoyed at how Maggie and Elsa-May got along so well. “You mean we'll be staring at other people's quilts and pretending to be impressed?"
Elsa-May smiled. "These quilts tell stories—some are nearly two hundred years old."
"Will they serve food there? Otherwise, I'm not sure that a day of looking at quilts will hold my attention."
"I'm sure there'll be food. There's also a demonstration on hand-dyeing fabric," Elsa-May added. "And you know how people love to talk."
Ettie tapped her fingers on the armrest. "Gossip and fabric dyeing. You really know how to convince someone."
"So, you'll go?" Elsa-May leaned forward, hopeful.
"All right. But don't expect me to sit quietly. I've been doing too much sitting lately."
Elsa-May chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it."
Snowy walked into the kitchen, letting out a small bark.
"You're excited too? They're not letting you in, you know," Ettie told the dog.
Elsa-May patted Snowy and gave him one of his dog treats she’d made earlier. "Maybe we’ll even see a quilt featuring a brave dog. We'll tell you all about it when we get home, Snowy.”
Ettie shook her head. "You'd turn anything into a story."
In the living room, Kelly lay on the quilt-in-progress, batting his paw at the threads.
