Page 8 of Trace of Doubt
She drew me into an embrace. “If you ever ask me again if a hug is okay, I might have to smack you.”
“Deal. I see your tire’s fixed. Have the authorities made an arrest?”
“Not yet. My brother dug a 9mm bullet out of it. He’s working on the who and why.”
No doubt. “Is there anything I should know?”
“Not to my knowledge.” She sniffed. “Do I smell maple syrup? Peanut butter? Chocolate?”
“My first prison-free breakfast was my favorite as a kid and teen—chocolate chip pancakes smothered in peanut butter and warm syrup. Not just any pancakes, but a recipe from my dad.” I raised a finger. “Don’t remind me of the calories, and yes, I have two left for any taker.”
She moaned. “Best keep them for yourself. Peanuts give me hives, and I tend to wear pancakes on both my thighs.” She patted her legs for emphasis.
“Coffee? An incredible woman bought me an incredible grinder, coffee maker, and beans that brew an incredible taste straight out of heaven.”
“Yes, ma’am. Add a little half-and-half, please.”
“Kindly have a seat on my beautiful pecan-colored leather sofa.” I gestured into the living area. “Ready to see my jewelry designs and help me with my business model?”
Edie wiggled her shoulders. “I’ve thought of little else. You hit my hot button with the wordjewelry.”
I reached for a mug inside a cabinet. “Denton McClure stopped by on his horse earlier.”
“Good. We all need friends. Last week he visited me while the kids were doing homework. Timothy was struggling with algebra, and Denton spent an hour helping him. Afterward, Timothy claimed no one had explained algebra so thoroughly before. But Denton is a math teacher.”
Maybe Denton was a good guy. I handed Edie a mug of coffee the way she liked it. We sat side by side on the sofa while I showed her my few pieces made in prison—six necklaces, five pairs of earrings, and two bracelets.
“These are gorgeous, Shelby. So well crafted. I love the green-and-blue labradorite pendant in antique brass. Oh, and look at how you’ve woven the wire to look like lace.”
“Thanks. I owe your friend, the chaplain, for showing me how to create jewelry.”
“Donna told me you were good, but I had no idea how beautiful the design was until now.”
“You should have opened the box when she mailed the pieces here.”
“Wouldn’t have dreamed of it.” Edie examined the back of the pendant.
“Every piece has a tiny wire twisted into a cross on the back.”
“Is this your logo?”
“Yes. You beat me to it.” I turned a few pages in my sketch pad. “Here is an area where I need advice and guidance.”
“Don’t you have a master’s in business?”
“Yes, but not experience.” I set the open page on her lap. “With my logo I want women to see how God is in the redemption business through a wired cross that isn’t a perfect traditional one. Airy. Whimsical. And imaginative.”
She touched the sketch as though it might leap from the page. “The cross is intricate, symbolizing beauty in the ugly mess of our lives.”
“We might have to take up preaching,” I said.
“Don’t get me started.”
I giggled like a schoolgirl. “Some names for the business keep running through my mind. Such as Classy-Chic Jewelry Designs, Your Jewelry Designs, and the third is Klassy-Kreations written withKs instead ofCs. But I don’t want it to be cutesy either. This morning Simple Pleasures came to me.”
Edie tapped her chin. “What about Simply Shelby in a flowing script?”
“Simply Shelby,” I whispered. “Sounds like me. Perfect.” I flipped to another page in my sketch pad and pointed to my card creation. “On one side of a business-size card, I’d printSimply Shelbyin the middle with a twisted cross in the left-hand corner and a thin gold border framing it. On the opposite side, I plan to name each design and add a corresponding Scripture verse. That means an investment in card stock because the back of each piece would reflect a distinctive style and verse.”
