Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy - Janice Lynn Page 0,71
of my quilts, it’s you.
If only he’d let her give him one. She thought of the quilt she’d been working on at home, of the time and effort she put into every stitch, of how much she’d love to wrap it around him and welcome him home.
Because he did need a quilt, even if he didn’t think so.
Just as she suspected he needed her. Even if he didn’t think so on that, either.
As his friend, she added, before she let any other connotation attach itself to her thought.
Cole needed her as his friend.
Chapter Fourteen
Near the shop’s closing time, Sophie and Isabelle set up tables for the Make Your Own Stocking class. Each attendee had the option of using one of their display sewing machines or bringing their machine from home. They’d had to turn away a few interested participants due to lack of space and Sophie wanting to make sure they weren’t too crowded for her to be able to give individualized attention as needed.
Once everyone had arrived and was situated, Sophie went to the front of the open area.
“Welcome, everyone,” she told the friendly faces sitting at the tables. Rosie, Maybelle, Aunt Claudia, Ruby, and Mrs. Harvey were among them. Yeah, those ladies did not need her help sewing, but she still wanted to make sure her class was a lot of fun for them.
She gestured over to their table. “Part of me feels I should go sit down and let one of you teach, as each and every one of you have more sewing experience than I do,” she admitted as she prepared to start the class.
“That doesn’t mean we’re too old to learn a new trick,” Ruby said, smiling at Sophie.
“She’s talking about you,” Rosie stage-whispered to Maybelle.
Maybelle pursed her lips. “That’s odd. I could have sworn she meant you when she said ‘too old’.”
“Who are you calling old?” Rosie complained as she fluffed her blue locks. “Just because I’m an experienced seamstress doesn’t mean I’m a day past forty.”
“Forty? Well, at least you got the experienced part, right,” Maybelle said drily, then checked her perfectly manicured fingernails.
“Good grief, she’s so old, she’s suffering memory loss,” Ruby said at the same time, elbowing Sophie’s aunt.
“Lost a good fifty years,” Aunt Claudia agreed, shaking her head in a sad gesture.
“Fifty years?” Rosie shrieked, completely ignoring Maybelle. “You take that back, Claudia.”
“Think of it this way,” Maybelle continued, giving a prim smile. “You look great for ninety, which is more than you can say if you were claiming to be a single day younger.”
“At least you admit I look great,” Rosie huffed resituating herself in her chair. “We all know you three are just jealous of my youth and beauty.”
The three Butterflies snorted.
“Ladies,” Sophie said, trying to get their focus back on her and not each other. “There are eighteen of us here tonight. I’m going to review the steps we’ll take making the stocking, then we’ll divide up into pairs.”
“Just so long as I’m not paired with certain individuals, that’s fine,” Rosie stage-whispered to Mrs. Harvey, gesturing toward Maybelle.
Maybelle didn’t look concerned, just smiled in that stately way she had that said she knew more than everyone else in the room. She usually did, too. Maybelle made things happen. Sometimes in plain sight, but oftentimes behind the scenes, so carefully and strategically that a person didn’t even realize what she was up to until she’d already maneuvered them toward the direction she’d decided they should have been going to begin with. Her uncle and Aunt Claudia traveling was just one exmaple.
“To make everything go quicker, I’ve precut fabric into the pattern. There are plenty of extras, so hopefully everyone will find one they like, but for those who don’t, see me and I’ll demonstrate how to use the cutting machine to cut your stocking shapes in any fabric you choose. I also made a handout for each of you to take home with you that has a pattern you can use for future stockings.”
Sophie smiled at the group, glad they were mostly familiar faces that seemed engaged.
“Once we’ve all selected our material, we’ll get started at our machines. If anyone wants names embroidered, or the like, on your stocking, see me after you’ve selected your material so we can get that done prior to sewing your stocking together.”
Sophie took two precut pieces of fabric of varying colors and sewed them together inside out, flipped them right side out via the small area she’d left unstitched near the toe