From her mother’s look, it wasn’t a pleasant one. “Something wrong?” Carrie asked. It felt like she’d interrupted something. Her mother looked guilty, as though Carrie had walked in on her parents running through the house naked.
Her mother shook her head. “Everything is fine at The Heritage, right? You didn’t lose your job, did you?”
“Mom, what would make you think that? I’m enjoying my job.” If she lost her position after only two weeks, it would be something of a record. Besides, she had come to love the variety of each day. It’d been fun getting to know the residents and their particular quirks and personalities. Every day was different, with fresh experiences.
She’d gotten to know Kennedy, who was about her age, and had a soft spot for Eric, who rarely showed his face, although she’d taken to delivering his dinner every night. At first he seemed eager to get rid of her, which she found both amusing and challenging. Now, though, she was beginning to make a dent in the wall he’d built around himself, and a few times they’d engaged in brief conversations. From what she’d seen of his condo, she could tell Eric was a tech geek. Computers and monitors took up every bit of available space. She wasn’t sure what he did exactly, although she could guess. Even from their short conversations, she was learning more about him every day. He was different from any guy she knew, and the more time she spent with him, the more intrigued she became.
Carrie’s dad came out of his den and wore the same anxious look. “Carrie, what are you doing here?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts about Eric.
It hit her then. Her parents were afraid she was going to move back home. It was almost comical. For half a minute, she was tempted to toy with them, and then decided that would be childish.
“Stop fretting, you two. I’m collecting my bike. Justin and I are going to ride around Green Lake.”
“Oh thank goodness.” Her mother heaved a relieved sigh.
Carrie started up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. “I need to get my helmet,” she said, rushing down the hallway toward her bedroom. She opened the door and was dumbfounded by what she saw.
“Carrie…” Her mother shouted from the bottom of the stairwell. “I moved your things.”
Carrie could barely believe her eyes. Her entire bedroom had been dismantled. Gone were her bed, dresser, nightstand, and desk. Her room had been transformed.
Where her bookcases had once been was a large rack that contained spools of thread of every conceivable color. A rainbow didn’t have this many colors. A cutting table had replaced her bed, and a monster of a sewing machine covered up one entire wall. Out of curiosity she opened her closet doors, and, sure enough, the entire space was stacked with fabric from floor to ceiling.
Where her mother had stored this volume of fabric before Carrie moved out was a mystery. She must have had it tucked in every room in the house, under beds, in boxes and drawers. Hidden. This was unbelievable.
Closing the door, she stepped back, unable even now to believe the evidence staring her in the face. Her room was gone. The one place in the house where she belonged. Seeing it completely converted this way was a jolt.
A few years earlier her mother had joined a quilting guild. Carrie hadn’t paid much attention. A smaller version of her current sewing machine had been set up in the laundry room, and her mother had attended classes and seminars. The quilts she made were works of art. She made them for friends and relatives, for homeless shelters, and for nursing homes. Her mother had always been generous with her gifts and talents. No way would Carrie begrudge her this space.
Her mother joined her, looking guilty. “Are you upset?” she asked.
Putting on a brave smile, she shook her head. “I have my own place now, so no worries. I’m grateful you’ve put my room to good use.” How her mother had managed to do all she had from a tiny laundry room before was amazing.
“Has Dad seen your stash?” she asked, gesturing toward the stuffed closet. Her father would have a conniption fit if he was to know how much money her mother had spent on fabric.
“He knows,” she said, lowering her voice.
Carrie couldn’t imagine her dad not being appalled at the huge investment her mother had made in her passion for quilting. “Did he look inside the closet?”
A smile wiggled at the edges of her mother’s mouth. “He did.”
“And what did he say?”
The smile grew until it covered her mother’s entire face. “He was aghast and claimed all that fabric must be worth over a hundred dollars.”