Make Quilts Not War

chapter 2



“Who needs a wig?” Harriet asked as she set a large shopping bag on the cutting table in her quilting studio.

Mavis and Beth sat in the two wingback chairs by the bow window in the reception area, each holding a mug of steaming tea. Jenny was in a folding chair to their left, a large black tote at her feet. Robin and DeAnn stood with Lauren at the short end of the cutting table, a pile of clothing between them.

“Sorry I’m late,” Carla said, stripping off her wet rain coat as she came in from the outside parking area. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt?” Her cheeks, red already from the cold, reddened further.

“Harriet was just asking if anyone needs a wig,” Beth told her. “And I’m pretty sure we were all going to say yes.”

“Ewww, where did they come from?” Lauren asked. “You didn’t get them from the thrift store, did you?”

“Maybe,” Harriet said evasively. “I got a deal from a wholesale wig place in Seattle for six of them. I got four more from DeAnn.”

She paused, and DeAnn took up the story.

“When Nana first got dementia and we didn’t know what was going on, she went on a huge catalog shopping spree. It didn’t matter what sort of catalog came in the mail. If she got it, she ordered something—or many somethings. She must have gotten a wig catalog at some point, because we found a box with five brand-new ones in it.”

“That’s handy,” Lauren said. “What about the thrift store?”

“Okay, I did find three killer wigs at Trash and Treasures.” Harriet reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of black fluff and held it up. “I found this afro, and it was too perfect to pass up. I washed it three times.”

“Toss it over,” Jenny said and held her hands up to receive it.

Harriet carried the wig around the table then lobbed it. Jenny caught it then turned it in her hands to orient the cap before pulling it onto her head.

“Is it me?”

“Tuck your hair in around the back,” Lauren suggested, “unless you like looking like a skunk.”

“Let me help you,” Carla offered. She set the mug of tea she’d just poured on the big table and stood behind Jenny, tucking stray strands of hair neatly under the wig cap.

Harriet laughed. “It’s perfect,” she choked out. “Let me get a mirror.”

She disappeared through the door into her kitchen and the house beyond. She returned a moment later with a hand-held mirror and gave it to Jenny.

“Oooh,” Jenny said. “It’s definitely me.”

“What else do you have?” Mavis asked. “Anything in red?”

Harriet pulled all the wigs from her bag and passed them around. After a few minutes of trial-and-error, everyone except Lauren had chosen new hair.

“I’m going to go with my own,” Lauren said and ran her hand through her long, straight blond hair, pulling out a hair clip that had been holding it away from her face. “I’ve been growing my bangs out ever since we started talking about this, so I can cut them just above my eyes like that singer Mary from that old sixties folk group.”

“Well, honey, you’re the only one in this group that could pull that off,” Mavis told her.

“I hope Connie likes her bob,” Jenny said.

“What’s not to like?” Aunt Beth asked and laughed.

“Sorry I missed last week,” DeAnn said. “The kids all had a stomach bug, and I didn’t want to risk sharing it with you-all.”

“And we thank you for that,” Harriet told her.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Lauren added. “A bunch of people went to Seattle to shop for costumes, so only a few were left to work on their quilts.”

“We weren’t just shopping. We were picking up the posters and flyers and some other signs,” Mavis informed DeAnn. “The committee got a donation from a big printing company. It worked out that we were able to do a little shopping for our costumes while we were there.”

Jenny got up and dumped the contents of her bag onto the cutting table as Robin pushed the pile of clothes near her to the center.

“Dig in,” Aunt Beth said. “Mavis and I put the stuff we thought you ladies would be interested in on the table, but we have several more bags in the garage. The organizing committee asked us to bring back some selections for them, too.”

“Where did you find all this stuff?” Harriet asked.

“We found two vintage clothing stores that had a lot of sixties stuff that was reasonably priced. Then, we went to a theatrical costume store. The fringed vests and beaded headbands came from there; some of the bell bottoms, too,” Mavis reported.

“I brought some things from the church clothing drive closet,” Jenny said. “We’ve been pulling out anything that looks to be of that vintage and setting it aside for this event.”

“And we hit a military surplus store on our way back,” Aunt Beth added.

“Is everything here up for grabs?” Jenny asked as she held up a long-fringed cowhide vest.

“Yes,” Beth replied. “Mavis and I already have our costumes.”

“That vest will be killer with your ‘fro,” Harriet said.



“Can I interest anyone in brownies?” Harriet asked when everyone had decided on an outfit and either taken it to her car or stowed it in her stitching bag.

“Even I won’t say no to chocolate,” Robin said.

“I’m not sure why you bother to ask,” Lauren added and got up to follow Harriet to the kitchen.

They returned with a large platter of chewy brownies and a stack of pink paper plates and matching napkins.

“Anyone need a refill on their drink?” Harriet asked. “I got some of that holiday spice tea on sale at the Steaming Cup yesterday if anyone wants one last cup of it before it goes away until next Christmas.”

Lauren retrieved the coffee carafe from the drip machine in the kitchen and topped off the cups of the three people who were drinking coffee while Harriet did the same with hot water from the electric kettle for the tea drinkers.

“Can we see a copy of the flyers you picked up?” she asked when she and Lauren were through with their hostess duties.

Mavis reached into the canvas tote on the floor by her chair, pulled out a trifold brochure, and handed it to Harriet.

“Oh, nice. Look, Jenny, your quilt is on the front.” She held up the flyer for all to see.

“I wish they hadn’t done that,” Jenny said, the color draining from her face. She pulled the flyer from Harriet’s hands and examined it. “I told Marjory she could display my quilt, and I didn’t really want to do that. She didn’t say anything about putting it on her advertising materials.”

“You must have let them take the picture,” Lauren pointed out.

“I let them take a few pictures, but Marjory said it was just for layout and planning purposes. No one said anything about using it for anything else.”

“It’s a pretty quilt,” Carla said in a soft voice. “And it looks like it’s in really good condition.”

“That’s not the point,” Jenny snapped. “It’s ancient history, and it isn’t anything like what I do today.”

“I think that’s the whole point,” Mavis said. “And if you feel that strongly, I’m sure Marjory will take it down and give it back to you.”

“It’s a little late for that now.” Jenny handed the flyer back to Mavis then stood and pulled on her leather jacket. “I’ve got to go,” she said, and left without another word.

“Well, that was weird,” Lauren said, breaking the silence that had ensued.

“Something’s going on,” Harriet agreed. “She’s been weird about that quilt ever since Marjory asked her to let them hang it in the show.”

“I agree,” Robin said. Being an attorney, she was usually careful in her opinions, so her statement carried weight with the group. “She didn’t have to keep the quilt in a place where we could all see it at her house, and even then, she could have said no when the committee asked.”

“Yeah, but she’s the nice one of this group,” Lauren pointed out. “Every group has one member who is nicer than everybody else, and she’s our designated nice person, so she probably couldn’t say no. It would ruin her reputation.”

Harriet looked at her.

“You’re nuts,” she said.

“Maybe she didn’t make it herself,” Carla suggested. “Did she ever say she was the one who made it?”

“Good point.” Lauren looked at Beth. “Do we know the answer?”

“Now that you mention it, I’m not sure the question ever came up,” Beth replied.

“Why would it?” Harriet asked. “I mean, when I visit any of you and see a homemade quilt on a bed, I just assume you made it. I would never ask you if you’d done it yourself.”

“Clearly, there’s an issue,” Mavis said. “I’m sure Jenny will tell us all in good time.”

“We aren’t going to solve it today,” Aunt Beth said. “So, how is everyone doing on their quilt? Does anyone need help?”

“All I have to do is the yarn ties on mine,” Carla said.

“Mine’s done,” Robin volunteered.

“I’m binding mine,” DeAnn added.

The rest of the group reported they were similarly close to being done.

“Don’t forget, we need the hanging sleeve to be four inches deep to accommodate the metal pipes they’re using to make the hanging racks,” Mavis reminded them.

“All right,” Beth said. “We’ve got our wigs and costumes, and our quilts are nearly done. I declare the Loose Threads ready for a return of the nineteen-sixties.”

“Far out,” Harriet said.