Page 73 of One Chance to Stay
“Hey!” Gloria didn’t look up from her hand stitching. Now that I took a moment, these women were creating some beautiful pieces. Though, I’m pretty sure Gloria’s quilt had tiny naked men on it.
“You’ll have a matching set,” Gladys replied.
“True,” Gloria said. “Can’t have too many tea baggers.”
I coughed so hard my eyes watered.
“Well?” Gladys asked. “Are you going to make me keep guessing?”
“I was hoping you had a vintage flask.” I had barely finished the sentence when she zipped behind her counter. Gladys didn’t run. She hovered as she moved. “Something a little fancy? Still in working order?”
She bent down for a moment. Two hands shot up, one holding a silver flask wrapped in leather, and another covered in rhinestones. As she rose, her eyebrows waggled. “Have a particular style in mind?”
She gently urged the bling-covered flask forward. If Seamus were standing here, he wouldn’t give the shiny flask a second glance. He’d opt for understated and functional. I bet the leather hugging the container smelled like his beard oil.
“Rhinestones,” I said.
She gasped. “Adventurous. I like a man willing to take a risk.”
Seamus might play it safe. I didn’t. I wanted him to reach into his pocket and think of me every time he ran his finger over the audacious flask. He’d never sip bourbon without scoffing, and if I were lucky, finishing with a smile.
“Gladys, as always, you deliver.” I reached into my pocket and handed her my credit card. While she rang up my purchase, I tried yanking off the plastic tie holding the price tag. Despite putting some muscle into it, it only stretched but refused to break.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Gladys said while punching buttons on her screen. “Let me find you some scissors.”
I wandered toward an old desk she had been using as a work station. I reached for the scissors next to her sewing machine. “What about these?” I froze when the women gasped.
“Agatha, stop him!” Gladys cried.
“Those are fabric scissors.” Agatha swiped them from under my hand, clutching them against her chest. “Never… and I do meannevertouch a woman’s fabric scissors.”
Gloria pushed her bifocals up her nose as she peered up at me. Age hadn’t diminished the vibrance of those judging blue eyes. “You’re not really a quilter, are you?”
I had been found out. “No. Not really. It’s Abraham’s fault.” I’d gladly sell him out if it meant a group of ladies with sheers didn’t tackle me. There was no way I’d survive a herd of Nanas with a grudge.
“Ladies,” Gloria said. “It’s time for revenge.”
Is this how Firefly fell? Would my next visit bring me to a town burning to the ground? The only survivors would be the guild as they stood, snug as a bug in their latest creations, as they watched the inferno.
“Ingrid, what do you think? I say we take in all his waistbands,” Agatha said.
“I know where he hides his spare key.” Ingrid got to her feet. I’d have called them a bunch of jolly, well-meaning gals, but Abraham was about to find out they weren’t to be messed with.
Gladys took the flask, pulled a pocket knife from her pocket, and cut the tag. With a shove, she guided me toward the door.“You better get out of here. This is about to get nasty. It’s almost as bad as when he lied about the sale at the Fabric Emporium. You’ll need deniability. Run.”
She opened the door and pushed me out. I stood on the sidewalk as the “Open” sign flipped around and the curtains blocked the view inside. Their definition of revenge seemed playful enough. I doubt Abraham would agree.
Served him right. “I’m not saying you asked for it, Abraham, but…”
DATING FIREFLY
Seamus: What should I wear?
Patrick: Come casual. Nothing fancy.
Seamus: Work clothes?
Patrick: Not that casual.
