Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy

“Definitely a possibility,” Isabelle agreed. “No doubt Maybelle had something in mind when she signed them all up. I’m just glad it’s you who’ll be teaching the class.”

“You’re welcome to help.”

Maybelle was certainly a mover and a shaker, so if she’d been the one to sign the ladies up for the class then Sophie agreed that there was likely more to it than a simple interest in stocking sewing.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. It’s all I can do to keep up with our online presence and sales, accounting, and taxes, not to mention all the other paperwork to keep day-to-day operations going.”

Sophie glanced at her sister. They were just preparing to unlock the front door, but Isabelle already looked tired. Had she sat up working last night after they’d gotten back from Aunt Claudia’s?

“Maybe we need to hire someone else full-time for out front so you can focus on the business side of things.” The back-office work was the part of the business that her sister loved, what she’d trained for with her business management degree.

Isabelle opened her mouth and Sophie sensed the protests that were on their way. She held up her hand.

“I know that the more we do ourselves, the more we have to pay toward the note, but other than church, you have no social life. I was so glad you went sledding Saturday evening. You need to do that kind of thing more often.”

Isabelle’s brow lifted. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“My point exactly,” Sophie countered. “But I do get away from here more than you.”

“Work isn’t restricted to what you do inside this building while the shop’s doors are open. You put in more than double the hours of a normal work week most weeks, coming in early and staying late.”

“True, but many of those extra hours are spent sewing, which I love, so it’s not really like working,” Sophie reminded. “Although, if our Petdanas sales continue to increase, I’m going to have to make some decisions on how I spend my sewing time.”

“You think you may cut back on your Quilts of Valor work?”

Sophie shot her sister a horrified look. “Not as long as there’s breath in my body.”

Isabelle paused in what she was doing and met Sophie’s gaze. “You do realize, don’t you, that no matter how many quilts you make, you can’t save Dad?”

Sophie’s heart pinched at her sister’s question. Every quilt she’d made for veterans had been sewn for her father, to some degree. It was one of the reasons she often donated quilts to be awarded elsewhere, in hopes that somewhere, some daughter had wrapped her father in a quilt, and that he’d felt the love sewn into every stitch and found healing and comfort.

Fortunately, Sophie was saved from responding to her sister’s unwelcome question by her cousin knocking on the front door.

“Hey, Annabelle,” Sophie greeted their recruited extra help. Though the high school student was too busy with her own activities to work a regular schedule with them, Annabelle occasionally filled in on the weekends and when school was out, and she was a lifesaver when it came to help with Black Friday and Shop Local Saturday.

Several hours later, Sophie rolled her shoulders, then leaned back over to measure the material yardage being purchased by Sue Harvey.

“I can’t wait to make new pillows to go in the rockers by the fireplace. And then I’ll make a matching Christmas tree skirt,” the woman said.

The Harveys owned a local farm where they specialized in Christmas trees, among other things to keep the farm hopping all year long. Sophie loved going out to the farm in the spring to pick strawberries, in the fall to select a pumpkin, and, of course, in the winter to choose a tree. The most beautiful Christmas trees she’d ever seen had all come from Harvey Farms. In every season, Mrs. Harvey ran a deli and gift shop combo in a converted barn where she served yummy homemade treats and sold local goods.

“You should sign up for my stocking class on Tuesday night and mak

e matching stockings, too,” Sophie suggested while cutting the requested length.

“Tuesday night?” Mrs. Harvey looked thoughtful. “I could probably sneak away from the deli long enough to make that work. Sue Ellen could cover for me.”

“Ha. I was just about to say you should get Sue Ellen to come with you. Maybe we could get her to sewing yet,” Sophie laughed, thinking fondly of her former classmate. Sue Ellen had always been complimentary of Sophie’s sewing abilities but had seemed almost horrified at the suggestion of doing any herself.

“Doubtful. She’d rather be out getting her hands dirty with her dad than anything else, but she covers for me in the deli when needed.”

Sue Ellen had been that way back in school, too. If asked to name a real-life tomboy, Sue Ellen Harvey would be the first person to come to Sophie’s mind.

“If you want to reserve a spot, just tell whoever checks you out, and they’ll save you a place.”

Annabelle’s giggle from the cash register had both women glancing that way, spotting the girl deep in conversation with Jeff.

Mrs. Harvey smiled at the young man at the counter.