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LAUREN AND ANNIE WATCHED online sewing videos that evening on TV.
“I bet I could make a cushion cover,” she murmured as they finished watching the fifth one. A young girl confidently made a red cover with gold tassels. “A simple one, not one with embellishments. Not to start with, anyway.”
“Brrt,” Annie said encouragingly. She sat next to Lauren on the pink sofa.
“We could make a pretty pink cover, to match.” Lauren pointed at their seat.
“Brrt!” Yes!
“And we wouldn’t tell Zoe at first,” Lauren continued. “Because you know what she’s like when someone mentions sewing.”
“Brrp.”
“It could be our secret project.” Lauren smiled softly.
“Brrt!” Yes!
“Gramms’ sewing machine is somewhere. Want to help me find it?”
Annie jumped off the sofa and ran toward Lauren’s bedroom.
“I don’t think it’s in there.” She followed her fur baby into the room.
Annie stretched up, placing her front paws on the closet door.
“It’s not in there.”
The small closet held her clothes and a couple of spare blankets.
“And it’s not in Zoe’s room.”
“Brrp.” Annie looked disappointed.
“But there is one other place we can try.”
“Brrp?” Where?
“The guest room.” Lauren led the way to a small, rarely used room. She’d placed most of her Gramms’ belongings in there when she’d inherited the house, not knowing what else to do with them.
Lauren turned on the light and surveyed a twin bed, a bookcase filled with old books, and a piece of rolled up carpet.
“Let’s look in here.” She opened the closet door. Her grandmother’s clothes that she hadn’t brought herself to donate filled most of the space, along with a few knickknacks she didn’t know what to do with.
A black sewing machine lurked in the closet.
“Here!” She pulled it out and gazed at it. “It’s electric.” That was good news – she hoped.
“And here’s the foot pedal.” She pulled out a black cord and pedal.
“Brrt!” Good! Annie stuck her head into the closet as if searching for something. She patted the shelf with her paw.
“Is there something else in there?” Lauren peered into the dark depths, something shiny catching her eye. “There is!” She gingerly pulled out an open container that looked a little like a lunchbox. Silver scissors shone on top.
“It’s Gramms’ sewing box.”
“Brrt!” Yes!
Spools of thread, needles, and pins filled the container, along with an ancient looking tape measure.
“Let’s see if we can set up the machine.” Lauren checked her watch. It was already nine-thirty, but instead of getting ready for bed, she wanted to investigate sewing. It was the perfect opportunity with only the two of them in the house.
“Brrt!” Annie ran out of the room, then stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Lauren.
“I’m coming.” Lauren picked up the machine. Not too heavy.
The Norwegian Forest Cat led the way to the kitchen.
Lauren placed the machine on the table, plugged in the cord, and looked around for the nearest outlet – the cord was just long enough.
“Brrt!” Let’s sew!
Annie jumped onto the chair closest to the machine and peered at it.
“We need some fabric,” Lauren told her. “And we need to thread the needle – and the bobbin.” She knew that much from the videos she’d seen.
Annie tapped the sewing box.
“Brrt?”
“Do you think this top tray lifts out?” Lauren lifted up the blue compartment.
“Brrt!” Annie approved, hooking her paw into the box and pulling out a piece of red fabric.
Lauren peered inside, but that was the only square of material.
“It’s a start,” she told Annie.
“Brrt!” Yes!
Lauren threaded the needle – watching those sewing videos had come in handy – but then noticed a small plastic spool.
“I’m not sure if this is the bobbin.”
“Brrt!” Follow me!
Annie ran to the living room. Lauren followed.
Her fur baby sat in front of the TV. Lauren hadn’t turned it off. Another sewing video played.
“Good idea.” Lauren smiled. “We’ll find a video that will show us how to thread the bobbin.”
Thirty minutes later, Lauren was finally ready to start sewing. Getting the bobbin ready had been a lot trickier than threading the needle in the machine.
She turned on the machine, then took the square of cotton fabric and placed it under the presser foot. Taking a deep breath, she gently pumped the foot pedal.
The machine whirred, and the needle hit the cloth.
“Brrt!” Faster! Annie sat next to her, eyes glued to the motion of the needle going up and down.
“Okay.” Lauren pressed her foot down.
Brrrrrrm.
“What are you doing?” Zoe suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Is that—” she inhaled “—sewing?” Her eyes rounded.
“Yes.” Lauren lifted her foot off the pedal and gazed at the small stiches she’d made with the white thread – a little wobbly, but not too bad for a beginner. She hoped.
“What are you doing home?” Lauren asked. “I thought you mightn’t come in until late.”
“It is late,” Zoe pointed to the kitchen clock. “It’s nearly eleven.”
Lauren’s eyes widened as she double-checked the time. “I had no idea.”
“I thought we hated sewing.” Zoe stepped closer to the machine and frowned.
“You hate sewing,” Lauren replied. “I don’t know enough about it to know if I hate it or not.”
“Is that your Gramms’ machine?”
“Yes.”
“So what did you sew?” Zoe crowded next to her and Annie.
“This.” Lauren pointed to the small piece of fabric underneath the needle. “I’m practicing. Annie and I were thinking of making a pink cushion cover for the sofa.”
“Brrt!” That’s right!
“How did you know what to do?” Zoe asked.
Lauren confessed to watching sewing videos.
“Huh.”
“Want a turn?”
“If you insist.” Zoe sounded intrigued.
Lauren rose and offered her chair. Annie stayed where she was, in her own seat next to the machine.
She showed Zoe how to work the foot pedal.
“Here goes.” Zoe took a big breath and slammed her foot down on the pedal.
The machine whirred, the needle striking the fabric again and again, sewing a straightish line.
“Whee!” Zoe looked exhilarated as she fed the fabric through the machine.
“You might want to slow down,” Lauren advised. “You’re nearly at the end of the—”
“Ow!” Zoe jerked her hand to her mouth. “It got me!”
The machine stopped as Zoe jerked her foot off the pedal.
“I sewed my finger!”
“Let me see.” Lauren peered at Zoe’s forefinger.
“Brrt?” Annie patted Zoe’s arm.
“I think I’ll be all right, Annie,” Zoe finally said. “It was just a shock, you know?”
“I don’t see any blood.” Lauren squeezed, but no red drops appeared. “I don’t think you actually sewed your finger. There’s no thread sewn into it.”
“You know what I mean,” Zoe muttered. “And it hurts.”
“I’m sorry.” Lauren touched her shoulder.
“Brrp.” Annie gently patted Zoe’s arm again.
“I think I was right about sewing.” Zoe shuddered. “It’s not only scary – it’s actually dangerous!”