Old Maid's Puzzle Read Online Free PDF

after the show airs. Some viewers are going to go straight to their computer when it ends."
    This was happening so fast. I felt the butterflies of undone tasks start up again. "We'll have orders as early as Friday?"
    Vangie smiled. "We might."
    I stuffed the panic rising in my throat. How would we handle virtual customers and real ones at the same time? "We could use more staff. I wish there was time to put an ad in the quilt guild newsletter looking for more help."
    Vangie said, "You could post a note on their listserv. Not everyone in the guild uses it, but those who do will spread the word. Remember how fast we got fabric donations when we were making those charity quilts?"
    "That's a good idea. Someone out there has to be willing to work for what I can afford to pay."

    "Nothing, you mean?" Vangie said with a grin.
    "I'll give them a great discount," I said.
    Vangie smirked and we returned to our computers. We were good together, able to work in the same small place without disturbing each other. Our rule was no talking for at least fifty minutes each hour. Then we took a stretching break and chatted.
    I glanced out at Jenn. I could keep an eye on what was going on in the store from the window in front of my desk. When this had been my grandfather Dewey's hardware store, it had been the accounts payable window. One of the glass panels slid in front of the other, and a narrow wooden ledge jutted out into the store. The carpenters could rest their elbows while paying their invoices. Now, it was just handy to make sure my customers were being taken care of.
    Everything looked quiet. Jenn was scheduled by herself for the morning until Kym came in later.
    Half an hour later, an e-mail came from Lark. She'd sent a video clip from the show.
    "Nang, look at this."
    Vangie grunted, a signal that she was in the middle of something I shouldn't interrupt.
    The video clip was only about thirty seconds. It opened with a pan of the store. My mother would have been proud. The store looked just like it did when she was alive.
    I watched Kym closely. I had to admit she looked good on TV. I grinned. Probably because of her big head.
    An idea was forming. I replayed the clip to make sure. This was too good. I needed Vangie to get started on this right away.

    I scooted my chair over to her, carrying the laptop. "Vangie!" I waved my fingers in front of her monitor. Her face darkened.
    I pulled her iPod connection out of the computer. "I need you for a moment. Take a look at what Lark sent."
    She sighed and hit the save button on her computer. She glanced at me and then at the laptop.
    "Whoop-dee-do. Kym and Lark. I can wait 'til Friday."
    I set the laptop in front of her. "You've got to watch this. It's just a short clip."
    I played the video. Lark and Kym stood in front of our cutting table. The wall behind was a kaleidoscope of color.
    Lark said, "We're here in San Jose at Quilter Paradiso, talking to the floor manager, Kym Pellicano."
    Vangie snorted. "Gave herself a promotion, I see"
    I said, "Sssh. Watch this bit."
    On the screen, Kym was explaining her method of applique.
    "There," I yelled, pointing. I stopped the playback and touched the screen. "Check out that cord she always has attached to her apron. She's got a pair of those fancy scissors hanging from it. The ones with the palm-tree handle." "
    I don't know why that's not outlawed," Vangie said, unconsciously crossing her arms across her chest. "Hanging scissors on a cord pinned to your boob? The idea gives me the shivers."
    "Focus. Wait until you see what she does with them."
    I pressed the play button and Kym leaned over, still talking, and clipped a thread hanging from Lark's sleeve. Lark looked startled at being touched and then miffed. She moved a step away from Kym, nearly cutting her out of the frame.
    Vangie said, "She did not just do that."

    "Oh yes, she did. Kym, Super Scissor Girl. She's ready to cut any errant thread."
    "You never know when there's a thread-hanging