Chapter Twenty-Eight
The first thing Regina saw as she approached the shops inside The Marketplace on Saturday morning was a glossy walnut coffee table situated outside the Flaud Furniture store. Its swirling, irregular shape appealed to her immediately. She felt so drawn to it, she ran her hand over its top, which was sanded and stained to perfection, letting her fingers explore the knotholes.
“That’s Gabe’s latest project, part of a new division he’s calling Flawed Furniture—as in, imperfect,” Lydianne remarked from the shop doorway. “It’ll be interesting to see if it sells, or what folks say about it.”
Regina sighed as she rose to her full height. “If I weren’t moving, I’d snap it up in a heartbeat,” she said wistfully.
“Any news on when you have to be out?” her friend asked. “We maidels will be over this week for that packing frolic we offered you, on whatever evening works best.”
“I haven’t heard anything from the real estate lady, so I should probably contact her,” Regina replied. “Aunt Cora’s been asking me the same question.”
Rather than dwelling on such a downbeat subject, she smiled at Lydianne and removed the contents of the tote bag she’d carried in. “What do you think?” she asked as she unfolded one of the towels she’d been working on and held it up. “Embroidery’s going to be my new—”
“Oh, Regina, this mallard is so—so amazing!” Lydianne blurted as she grabbed the towel’s edges to get a better look. “This is different from any stitching I’ve ever seen! Look at the sheen on his head, and the way his feathers look so real!”
Regina’s heart swelled. This was the first time she’d shown anyone the designs she’d sketched and embroidered on tea towels. “Once I got the idea, it really grabbed hold of me,” she said as she held up towels with cardinals, rabbits, and an old barn on them. “It’s an acceptable way for me to play with colors and designs, now that I’ve pitched my paints.”
“Well, don’t cut yourself short when it comes to pricing these,” Lydianne advised. “It took a lot more time to complete one of these towels than it would the ordinary kind where the picture is just outlined. Show these to Jo—and the twins when they get here!”
“What’ve you got?” Marietta’s voice came from behind them.
“Jah, let me set this box of noodles down so I can see—my stars, Regina!” Molly exclaimed. “That bunny looks so real I want to stroke its fur.”
“These are just like your paintings,” Marietta commented as she studied each of the four towels. “How long does it take you to stitch one?”
Regina laughed. “Well, painting went a lot faster,” she admitted, “but stitching has kept my hands busy these past few evenings whenever I lost interest in packing.”
“And I bet you’ll get faster at the embroidery after you’ve done more of it,” Lydianne suggested. “Let’s show them to Jo before customers start coming in. She’s been a busy bee this morning and she could use a break.”
As Regina walked with her friends, she inhaled the aromas of snickerdoodles, sweet cherry pie filling, and the coffee that was brewing in the central commons. She paused to look around at the shop fronts, and at the Shetler twins as they set sugar, creamer, and napkins on the square tables. “Did you ever imagine The Marketplace would be such a success?” she asked in a faraway voice. “It wasn’t but three months ago that we were walking past this poor, dilapidated stable and noticed it was for sale.”
Lydianne nodded. “Pete’s supposed to start on the new schoolhouse this week, now that the pole barn’s finished,” she remarked. “We’ve already generated so much commission from these shops that we’ve covered the cost of its construction as well as new desks and furnishings. Goes to show you what we can accomplish when we all work together—and when we have this gal running things,” she added as they entered Fussner Bakery
Jo looked up from the pan of cherry pie bars she was frosting. “We couldn’t have succeeded without both of you,” she put in. “Our church folks objected to Regina’s painting, but they sure have benefited from the money her pictures brought in.”
“And look at what she’s up to now!” Lydianne said as she and Regina held up the towels. “Aren’t these the best embroidered pieces you’ve ever seen?”
Jo’s mouth dropped open. “Have you sold that towel with the cardinal on it?” she asked in a rush. “Mamm’s birthday is next week, and she loves cardinals. She tells me every year I shouldn’t get her any presents—but this!”
“It’s yours,” Regina replied. It was gratifying to see and hear another friend’s positive reaction to her new form of artwork. “I’d like to display it today, so folks get an idea of—”
“I predict you’ll take an outrageous number of orders, Regina,” Jo interrupted with a nod. “Better stock up on floss and towels at the craft store!”
Regina’s spirits soared, but one problem remained to be solved. “I know Martha Maude won’t let me display these in Quilts and More, so is there a place I can set up? This is spur-of-the-moment, and I haven’t paid any shop rent—”
“And you’re not going to!” Jo insisted without missing a beat. “You can position a table from the commons between my door and the Helfings’ shop this morning. Is that okay with you, Lydianne?”
“Fine idea!” Lydianne replied. “If you want to, we can figure out which vacant shop stall you can move into—whenever you’re ready.”
Regina left Jo’s bakery with feelings as warm as the fresh snickerdoodle in her hand. She and Lydianne shifted a table and a chair into place just as Jo was opening the front doors for customers. From the back entrance, Gabe and Glenn came in at either end of a beautiful oak buffet, which they were rolling in on a low cart. Was it her imagination, or did both men seem more content, more settled?
When Gabe looked at her, his face lit up—and Regina got butterflies in her chest. His hair appeared freshly washed and cut, and she noticed a spring in his step as he and Glenn wheeled the buffet into the Flaud shop. She didn’t want to ask if he’d driven past her house earlier in the week without stopping—and she felt inexplicably tongue-tied—so instead, she greeted the women who were coming to look at her towels.
As her friends had predicted, many customers ordered sets of two or three towels with designs embroidered on them. One woman was so excited, she asked if Regina could make a set of table linens.
“I’m so glad you’re back, dear!” she said as she studied the display towels. “Three of your paintings hang in my dining room, and if I could have a tablecloth—and eight napkins!—wouldn’t that be totally beautiful?”
Regina felt temporarily overwhelmed by this idea, yet she quickly saw its possibilities. “What paintings do you have?” she asked as she picked up her pen. “It might be best if you provide the tablecloth and plain napkins, so you get the color and fabric you want.”
“That’s a great idea. My name’s Janice Akers,” she said as Regina began to write. Janice grinned like a little girl at Christmas. “I have a raccoon with an apple, and a chipmunk with his cheeks full of food, and a lovely scene with an old red barn in a pasture. If I bring the linens next Saturday, we’ll both have design ideas by then, so—oh! What if each napkin had a different small animal on it?”
Regina was scribbling so fast she could barely read her writing, but ideas for this project were simmering in her mind. “Jah, we can do that,” she replied. “I’m thinking I might put animals and wildflowers on the tablecloth edges, and maybe a pasture scene in the center.”
As Regina wrote some final remarks, Janice reached into her purse. When they shook hands, Regina felt some folded money in her palm.
“A down payment,” Janice said with a smile. “We’ll settle on a final price next week, all right?”
Regina thanked her profusely, slipping the money into her apron pocket. When she took a bathroom break, she was astounded to see that it was a one-hundred-dollar bill—and she had the sudden, impractical urge to buy the unusual coffee table displayed in front of the Flauds’ shop.
But you’ll soon have nowhere to put it, she reminded herself as she walked faster.
So what? Maybe you’ll get a chance to talk to Gabe—
Regina stopped, her mouth dropping open. A hand-lettered sign on the table said, SOLD. FOR MORE FLAWED FURNITURE IDEAS, SEE GABE INSIDE.
Deeply disappointed, Regina gazed at the wonderfully quirky piece, trying not to think about the fact that she’d soon be leaving her furniture—and her home—behind. The conversations in the central commons echoed off the building’s high ceiling as customers went from shop to shop or sat chatting over coffee and goodies at the crowded tables—so loudly that Regina almost didn’t hear the woman who was calling out to her.
“Regina, is that you? Can we talk for a moment?”
Expecting it to be another of her previous customers, Regina turned. The tall blond English woman in a flowing red tunic and slacks stood out in the casually dressed Saturday crowd.
“Jessica, it’s gut to see you,” she said as she returned the Realtor’s handshake. “I’ve been wondering when the folks who bought my house want to move in.”
The agent pressed her lips into a line. “We’ve hit a snag, Regina,” she said beneath the conversations that rang around them. “I’m really sorry, but the couple’s loan didn’t go through.”
Regina frowned. “What exactly does that mean?”
Jessica sighed, frustrated. “The bank won’t loan them the money they need—it can happen, especially with first-time home buyers. I’ll remove the sign that says your house is under contract, and we’ll put it back on the market,” she continued in a businesslike tone. “And I’ll contact the other folks who’ve called me about it, too. Don’t worry, Regina, your home’s adorable and it will sell.”
As her pulse accelerated, Regina almost blurted, Let’s take down all the signs and call it gut—no harm done! If her house didn’t sell, maybe she wouldn’t have to move in with her aunt and uncle.
Reality returned in a hurry, however. Uncle Clarence would soon be telling her to move in whether or not her home had sold. “I guess I’ll have more time to pack up my stuff,” Regina replied sadly. “And I’ll need to decide how to get rid of my furniture, too.”
“Again, I’m really sorry this happened. I’ll keep you posted, dear,” Jessica said. She glanced around at the people who were carrying sacks and merchandise. “Wow, this marketplace is really hopping! I’m going to take a look around while I’m here—and what a great table!” she added, pointing to the piece displayed beside the Flauds’ shop. “Do you know this Gabe fellow? Do you suppose he’d build me a desk with an irregular walnut top like this, for my office?”
Regina pointed through the doorway. “See those two men talking at that dining room table? Gabe’s the younger one—and the other guy’s his dat, who just got home from the hospital and probably shouldn’t be here,” she added with a chuckle. “You can’t keep a gut man down.”
As Jessica entered the Flauds’ shop, Regina took a last longing look at the coffee table and headed into Jo’s bakery. She hadn’t had time to eat lunch, and she suddenly craved some encouraging, levelheaded company as much as some comfort food. It was no surprise that Jo’s glass display cases were nearly empty, but Regina took heart when she saw Jo lifting a large rectangular pan from the oven.
“Is that something really yummy and chocolate, I hope?” Regina said as she stopped at the counter.
Jo laughed as she carefully lowered the pan to the butcher-block worktable. “Brownies—with chocolate chips!” she replied. “I’ve gone through so many cookies in the commons today, I baked these to get us through the afternoon. So what’s up, Regina? You look ferhoodled.”
Regina nodded at her perceptive friend. “On the one hand, I’ve sold a lot of embroidered towel sets—not to mention a tablecloth and eight napkins,” she replied. “But I just now learned that my house hasn’t sold because the couple’s loan didn’t go through.”
Jo’s eyes widened. “Could you just keep it?” she murmured excitedly.
“That was my first thought,” Regina agreed. “But we both know Uncle Clarence won’t change his mind.”
Jo fetched a knife and a metal spatula. “Sounds like a fine time for a warm brownie and a cold glass of milk—which is in my fridge,” she added with a nod in that direction. “If you’ll pour, I’ll bring our treats to that table in the corner. Chocolate makes everything feel better, ain’t so?”