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Boxed In(16)

By:Karen Kelly


“Rose tells me we’ve come on a good day. Both the curator of collections and the curator of education are on-site today and available for any questions we may have.” Stella handed a brochure to everyone.

“Great! Maybe they will know something about the items Annie found in her attic,” Alice said. “You haven’t seen the photos yet, have you, Stella? Perhaps you’ll remember them!”

“I don’t know that I can be much help.” Stella turned to Annie. “The attic has revealed another mystery, has it?”

Annie dug the photos and poem out of her purse. “Do you remember ever seeing these or hearing Gram talk about them?” She fanned the photos out like a hand of cards and extended them to Stella.

Settling her sensible reading glasses onto her nose, Stella thoroughly examined each of the photos and read the poem portion. She shook her head. “Sorry to say, I don’t. That beadwork looks extraordinary, and I can’t imagine why Betsy would not have displayed it prominently at Grey Gables.” A shadow passed over her features, a hint of sorrow in her eyes. “But, as you know, there were decades when I was not a part of her life, through my own foolishness. I wasn’t even living in Maine again until five years ago. I would assume she came into possession of these things during that time. How odd she never showed them to the other members of the handcraft community.” Stella handed the photos back to Annie. “Do make sure you show these to one of the curators before we leave today. I am sure she would be helpful. Both curators are meticulous in their research and knowledge of American Indian culture and art. Rose mentioned that a good time would be around two o’clock this afternoon.”

“That gives us plenty of time to look around,” Peggy said to Annie as she unfolded her brochure. “Where should we start?” After sitting more than two hours in Mary Beth’s SUV, Peggy was ready for some movement. By this time of day at The Cup & Saucer she would have already walked miles.

“Every artist or craftswoman finds her inspirations in different ways,” Stella observed. “I should think it would be best to allow each person to go wherever she will and then meet back at an appointed time.”

Mary Beth consulted her watch. “It’s almost eleven. How about we meet back here at one o’clock, and then we can go grab a bite to eat before coming back for Annie’s discussion with the curators?” With nods and murmurs of agreement, the members of the Hook and Needle Club spread out, a crafty SWAT team tracking down inspirations.





6

Two hours later, the seven women gathered together again with over-stimulated brains and empty stomachs. The brisk walk to Galyn’s Restaurant was rejuvenating and influenced the unanimous decision to eat lunch on the porch overlooking Frenchman Bay rather than in the dining room. After ordering drinks and sustenance as met each woman’s fancy, they settled back in their chairs to enjoy the breeze and the sounds of seabirds, water, and boats of every imaginable type coming and going on the bay.

“Does anyone else feel even more the weight of responsibility to do our theme justice now that we’ve spent these past hours at the museum?” asked Alice.

Peggy nodded. “I sure do. This project is much more serious than making a quilt for Emily. It’s hard to go wrong with that; I just have to make sure there are lots of pink and purple in it.” Her left hand with its lobster-tipped fingers toyed with the sweetener packets, lifting each color separately as though she was taking inventory for restocking. “But I saw quite a few things that gave me ideas … as long as I don’t mess them up.”

“Peggy, you’ve been quilting for some time now,” said Mary Beth. “I’ve seen your work. I know you’ll create something that will do justice to the theme.”

“It’s hard to argue with you, Mary Beth, since it’s your project. But I sure hope you’re right.” Peggy’s hand moved on to straightening the other condiments.

“I definitely know now that there is so much I don’t know,” asserted Annie. She paused and smiled at the waiter as he placed a cup of tea before her, setting a miniature pewter pitcher of milk beside it, and made his way around the table delivering the other drinks.

After he disappeared into the indoor dining room, she turned to Stella. “I can’t thank you enough for suggesting this museum visit, Stella. The exhibits and museum shop filled me with ideas.” Stella nodded and gently smiled, acknowledging Annie’s thanks. “But how to narrow all the possibilities into one piece!” Annie exclaimed.