pay a lot of attention to roads that only go back to two houses, but every now and then they bring out a load of gravel and smooth it out a little. Come on up and have a seat. I’ll bring out the coffee. Unless you want to come inside?”
“This is fine.” Nessa crossed the porch and sat down on the end of the swing. “It’s going to get hot this afternoon, so we might as well enjoy the cool morning while we can.”
“My thinking exactly.” Jackson whistled as he went inside.
In a couple of minutes, he poked his head out the door. “Sugar or cream or both?”
“Just black,” she answered.
Another minute passed, and he pushed through the old wooden screen door and carried two big mugs of coffee outside. He handed one off to her and then sat down on the other end of the swing.
“Thank you. So you’ve been living here five years? Ever wish you were back in the city?” Nessa asked.
“Not one time,” Jackson answered. “The peace and quiet out here kind of grows on you. After you’ve been here a few weeks, go on back to the city for a visit and see how discontented you’ll be.”
“I don’t have to do that,” Nessa said. “When I was a kid, I came here every summer for a couple of weeks and usually cried myself to sleep every night for weeks when I went back to the Texas Panhandle.”
“Miz Lucy said you’re a teacher,” Jackson said. “Are you planning to look for a job around here?”
“Maybe, but what I’d like to do is make quilts and pick up Nanny Lucy’s business where she left it off,” Nessa said.
“She made a great living that way. We used to go to craft shows together, and we always had a really good time. She would sell whatever she had made up, and she always took along boxes of patterns and quilt pieces already cut out so folks could make their own,” Jackson said.
“When are the fairs?” Nessa asked. “I’m totally new to this thing, but I love to quilt. There’s something both soothing and satisfying about the job.”
“Starting in September, there will be several each weekend. Miz Lucy, Uncle D. J., and I went to the ones closest to home, for the most part, but we always had good sales at one down near Waxahachie, so we tended to go there, even though it meant staying in a hotel overnight,” he said. “Get a couple of quilts made up and some boxes ready, and you can go with me. I’ll show you the ropes.”
“You’d do that for me?” Nessa was amazed.
“Sure, we’re neighbors.” Jackson’s smile lit up the whole porch. “Besides, I’ve never been to a fair by myself, and I’d appreciate the company. I’ve got an enclosed trailer that we use to transport our wares.”
“How many quilts should I have ready to go by the first fair?” Nessa was already doing the math in her head. She had three weeks left in June and the whole months of July and August to work. If she used the time to make a simple pattern and had a few of the more complicated quilts cut out and ready to sell as do-it-yourself projects, she might have a few things to show. She and her mother had made quilted throws for shut-ins and for the members of her dad’s congregation who had moved to nursing homes, and she’d always loved the work.
“That’s up to you,” Jackson said. “Miz Lucy seldom brought anything home from a fair. She sold her quilts for anywhere from six hundred to two thousand, depending on how much detail was in them, and the kits started at two hundred.”
If she sold just two quilts a week and the kits, Nessa thought, she’d be making far more than she ever had teaching.
“Kind of makes you wonder why you didn’t start quilting when you were younger, doesn’t it?” Jackson asked, but went on before she could answer. “My dad and mom are both lawyers. My older brother and his wife are both lawyers in the Devereaux firm, and my older sister is a lawyer. Her husband is a surgeon. I make almost as much as they do with my woodworking projects. I sure wish I’d come to Blossom right out of high school and gone to work with Uncle D. J.”
“What did they think when you decided to build furniture?” Nessa asked as she sipped her coffee. She could already