Down by the water one day I was looking for more sand dollars to use as models for my quilt. But I was picking up everything else that wasn't broke when I saw David waving at me to come over. My apron was full of the shells so I walked rather than ran over to him like I wanted to.
The sand underfoot was white and dry. It squeaked as I crossed it. Gulls and crows were flying up and down the beach, looking to be more playing than seriously hunting for food. When I got to David he untied my apron so I could put the shells down. His face was a sight. His nose was sunburned and peeling. His reddish hair was windblown and sticking up every which way. To me he was the prettiest thing on the beach.
Something had him excited. After taking off my apron he lifted me up on a stump and with his arm around my waist to steady me, he pointed out to sea. I was more aware of his closeness and his hand at my waist than of where he was pointing, but as I looked I saw what he was so excited about.
There were three whales playing in the ocean, big, long gray things. The calm sea allowed us see them more clearly than was usual, plus they were closer than the ones I was used to seeing from my window.
"I think those are called gray whales," David said, "Gosh, aren't they grand?"
They were spouting and diving and looked to be having fun. It made us both giggly. Maybe being so close together had something to do with it, too. He had to hold me tight to keep me from falling, and finally I had to get off the stump before I fell off it.
We sat down in the warm sand. As we talked he played with it, piling it into mounds, then smoothing them flat. Dribbling handfuls of sand, he made designs while asking me about the shells I'd gathered.
"You have so many, going into business or something?" Did he think I was greedy, or silly? I explained about my nieces and nephews, and off-handedly told him about the quilt. He was interested.
"But, David, the center is to be a piece-over of Haystack Rock, and I've tried, and tried, and I can't copy it."
"Sophie, would you mind...?" His face was bright with an idea, plus the sunburn. "One artist shouldn't interfere with another..."
An artist? Me? I would have laughed, but he was so serious I just smiled. "But we can help one another. What if I draw it for you?"
I didn't expect his help. "Oh David, you shouldn't waste your time."
His blue eyes were earnest, "I'd like very much to do it."
"Okay. If you insist. I'd really like some help," I said. I'll admit that I wanted more than just his help. I wanted the drawing, yes, but because he would be thinking of me while he did it. To know that David was thinking just of me and doing something just for me was a pleasure I wanted very much.
Plus I was flattered. The family always took my quilts for granted, or teased me about my eternal, infernal stitching, and complained about the little pieces that seemed to float into every nook and cranny of the house. And here David was calling me an artist.
He changed the subject. "So, Sophie, you make quilts, and plant roses. I'm learning more about you every day. Tell me, which of the brothers is your husband, and how long will you be here?" |
