she went on. “As many different stitches as you’d like to try. They’re all in this book.“ She handed out a seventy-five-page book with detailed instructions on how to stitch sixty different patterns. The rest of it was a few colored pictures of ten of the examples, followed by an index. Martha let them browse through it for a few minutes.
She then distributed equal-sized canvases, all with a lightweight binding around the edge. “I’m going to turn you loose in the shop now. I’d suggest you choose three colors that you like together. I have a color wheel you can consult. I suggest you choose one packet of floss for each color, one in a fairly light tone, and another of a medium tone, and a third a little darker. If you run out, you can always come to the shop for more. You want Number 3 weight cotton floss for this project. There are books on the front counter you can consult for what colors come in what sizes.“
Jane hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the shop on the way in and was stunned by the variety of colors available. She chose a combination of pinks, purples, and an off-white called ecru. Shelley picked greens, blues, and yellows.
When they were corralled back in the workroom, they compared their choices. Sam had chosen tans, blues, and ecru. Tazz had picked violent reds, blues, and stark white. Elizabeth had chosen colors that looked awful together to Jane—oranges, greens, and reds. All in sort of muddy hues.
The teacher’s last remarks were warnings. “Don’t get nervous and stitch too tight. It will buckle the canvas. Don’t stint on imagination. Make strips, odd sizes of rectangles or triangles. I’m giving each of you a packet of gridded paper to experiment with. There are also markers if you want to outline your pattern on the canvas. Don’t worry, it will disappear when the work is washed. Remember to mark the canvas on the threads, not on the valleys between them.
“Wash your hands well before each session of work,“ she went on. “All this is in the packet, along with the right size blunt needles, and leather thimbles if you need them. We’ll meet again on Thursday at the same time and see how much progress everyone has made. Have fun. And it’s not a contest. It’s just for fun. Keep that in mind.
“And my final advice is the most important, even though I mentioned it fleetingly already. Just like in knitting, crocheting, and sewing, use a light hand. It will save your fingers and keep the work looking good. If you work too tight, it will hurt you and your project both.“
When Jane and Shelley arrived at the theater early that evening, Jane was astonished at the size and faded grandeur of the building. She tried the door, which was locked. “Never mind. I have a key,“ Shelley said.
The large lobby, which had held up a little better than the outside, was truly grand. Elaborate gold-foiled trim around the two-story-high ceiling. Red marble floors. The same marble for pillars.
Shelley guided them through the large seating area. Jane admired the balconies, but was surprised that there was nobody on the stage. They heard voices and followed them to a room well behind the stage where there was a long table and chairs crammed close together. The backstage part of the theater wasn’t nearly as grand as the public spaces. There had apparently been renovations several times. Some of the walls weren’t even painted.
Three people were already there, pouring over scripts that looked fairly well worn. The young man at the head of the table stood up and said, “You must be Mrs. Nowack and Mrs. Jeffry. I’m Steven Imry. I’m the playwright and the Director.“ Jane could hear the capital D in his voice.
He continued, “I’m a graduate of the theater school at the college. I’m more than halfway through my master ‘s degree, and this is the second full-length play I’ve directed. Like the students among us who are on the Fast Track program, so are we. That’s why we’re