Free Road Trip by Jan Fields Page A

shorter woman with an alarmingly sharp nose blinked from behind large glasses. “I saw a man pushing through the crowd with a canvas bag,” she said. “I thought it was odd because the bag was pink. Though these days even football players wear pink—for breast cancer, you know. I think that’s so nice.”
    “I’m sure that couldn’t have been my bag,” Annie said, but as she looked all over the floor, it seemed more and more likely that it was her bag. Why would someone take a project bag at a needlework convention? She didn’t have any money in it. Annie shook her head in dismay. It was all so strange.
    She glanced at her watch and let out a small cry. It took longer to get from one place to another in the big hotel than she expected. She would have to report her problem at the front desk after the fashion show rehearsals. She didn’t want to disappoint Kate by missing the rehearsal and doing a poor job as a model in the show.
    Annie worked her way down the halls looking at the names on the doors. She’d left her convention map in her project bag, so it took her a while to find the room. She hurried in and a grandmotherly woman cheerfully hustled Annie off into the small side room where the models were preparing for the rehearsal.
    Annie was glad to see Kate’s dress hanging almost alone on the rack, waiting for her. She slipped into it as quickly as she could. Then she carefully straightened the seams on the long sleeveless lace dress so they hung straight. The wide lace edging just brushed her calves.
    Annie checked the deep neckline to be sure not too much showed. Then she ran her hand over the silk thread lace and checked that the navy lining was smooth. Finally she stood and reached for the navy crochet jacketed. It was a much denser piece of crochet and made in several pieces to give it a perfect tailored fit. Seams ran down the front on either side of the pewter buttons for a military-look jacket. Only the delicate lace along the bottom and lapels softened the look. The lace matched the pattern in the dress.
    Together the outfit was a charming mix of tailored vintage and sassy modern. As Annie slipped into the jacket, she noticed another woman nearby nervously tugging at the sleeves on a cute crocheted jacket she wore. The jacket back was a collage of different-size granny squares while the sleeves and front were solid-color except for a small corsage of crocheted flowers on one ruffled lapel.
    Annie spotted the problem with the fit right away. Someone had clipped the jacket to something at one point and the plastic clip still hung on the jacket back. It had gotten caught on the blouse beneath the jacket, twisting the piece out of fit.
    Annie walked over. “Let me help,” she said as she reached behind the young woman and pulled off the plastic clip.
    “Oh,” the woman said as she spotted the clip. “I’m such an idiot.”
    “No, no,” Annie said. “Anyone could make that mistake. You’re probably just nervous. I know I am.”
    The woman smiled and brushed her fine black hair away from her face with a shaky hand. “This is the first time I’ve entered one of these competitions,” she said softly. “My boyfriend says it’s stupid, but I’m really proud of this jacket. He’s just embarrassed to have a girlfriend who does old lady stuff like crochet.” Then the young woman’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. “Not that you’re an old lady. And your dress and jacket are beautiful. I’m so sorry.”
    Annie shook her head. “It’s OK, but I didn’t make this dress and jacket. The woman who did make it is only a little older than you. There are a lot of young women here who like crochet.” Then she smiled. “And your jacket is very lovely.”
    The young woman’s face lit up. “Do you really think so? I know I like it, but Max said it’s tacky … .”
    “Max is your boyfriend?” Annie asked.
    “Yes.”
    “I know this is none of my business, but he doesn’t sound