The Giving Quilt (10 page)

She outlined her proposal in an e-mail, which she sent out to the guild's mailing list. Within minutes, several members replied to the list, agreeing that the challenges of paying their dues earlier than usual were outweighed by the benefits of saving such a large sum. A casual vote conducted by e-mail a few days later was unanimously in favor of accepting the catering manager's offer. No one abstained from the vote, not even Brenda, who typically did not bother to respond to any of Pauline's messages.

The day after the vote, Pauline called the catering manager to confirm and sent out another e-mail to the guild asking them to pay her at the next meeting. Nearly everyone remembered, and of the three that forgot, two apologized and promised to put a check in the mail the next day. The third was Brenda, who looked past Pauline's shoulder, shrugged, and said, “Oh, I'll get it to you in time. Relax. You're fine.”

Pauline felt her hackles rise, smiling through clenched teeth as Brenda turned and wandered off. Nothing was less likely to make her relax than Brenda's command that she do so, and she was definitely not fine. “In time” meant at that meeting, not some vague date of Brenda's choosing in the distant future. The resort had set a deadline, and if they didn't have all the money by then, they wouldn't receive their savings.

Checks from the other two forgetful members arrived within days, but Brenda sent nothing. A week after the meeting, Pauline e-mailed her a cheerful reminder, to which, not unexpectedly, she received no reply. Another week passed without a word, so Pauline sent another, considerably less cheerful e-mail. The third week brought more silence and yet another reminder, and before Pauline knew it, a month had gone by. Pauline had hoped that Brenda would slip her a check at the guild meeting, but Brenda didn't so much as glance in Pauline's direction by the time the evening wrapped up and the quilters headed out to their cars.

Pauline steeled herself and hurried to catch up with Brenda before she could drive away. “I guess you haven't been getting my e-mails,” she began, managing what she hoped was a cordial smile.

“Oh, yes, those.” Brenda shifted her purse on her shoulder and glanced at her watch. “I got them.”

“Oh, good. I was worried. So, did you bring a check?”

“No, not tonight. I said I'd pay you in time and I will. Relax.”

There was that word again. “Brenda, it's already past time to be ‘in time.' Could you write me a check tonight so I can pay the resort, please?”

“I don't carry a checkbook. I do all my checks on my computer.”

Or not at all, as it suited her. “Okay, then when can I expect to receive it?”

“Soon.” Brenda's SUV chirped as she pressed a button on her key fob. Pauline stepped out of the way as she opened the door and climbed aboard. Without another glance in Pauline's direction, Brenda drove off, leaving Pauline dumbfounded and fuming in her wake.

Pauline could have paid Brenda's share as she had many times before, but Ray didn't like it and Pauline wasn't especially thrilled with shelling out so much money with no idea when she might be reimbursed. But it wasn't just about what Pauline could afford or couldn't. A principle was at stake. Brenda had voted in favor of the plan, she had agreed to pay, and her salary was at least twice Pauline's, so she could certainly afford it. She was just being stubborn. She just didn't like Pauline telling her what to do.

Pauline waited four days, long enough to be sure that if Brenda had mailed the check the day after the guild meeting, it would have arrived. And then, with the resort's deadline swiftly approaching, she composed an e-mail to the guild, the usual weekly summary of their accounts, income, and expenditures. In a postscript, she noted that the resort's deadline for securing their discount was only two weeks away. “Almost everyone has paid,” she added, “so, Brenda, if you could please get that check to me immediately, I'd really appreciate it.”

The first response was from the guild president addressed to the entire list, thanking Pauline for the detailed update.

The second response was from Brenda, and it was sent privately.

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Your e-mail

Pauline:

Thanks for the oh-so-thoughtful reminders about the payment. FYI, I already have a mother, but if you would like the job I can definitely tell you where to go to apply.

I will tell you yet again to RELAX. I have been a Cherokee Rose Quilter for much longer than you and have always paid my fees. I told you I would take care of it and I will. If the treasurer job has become too stressful for you, maybe it is time for you to let someone else take over.

Brenda

Pauline felt as if the air had been squeezed from her lungs. Hands shaking, she scrolled back to the top of the e-mail and read it again. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself out of her chair, paced to the window, and forced herself to sit down and read the message again.

It was no better on the third reading than it had been on the first.

Pauline sat back in her chair, wondering what to do. She wanted to call Ray, but she hated to bother him at work. She wanted to call Jeanette, but she and her family were spending the weekend at their cabin in the Chattahoochee National Forest. So instead she forwarded the e-mail to Jeanette, adding only a single word as preamble: “Wow.”

She doubted that Jeanette would have e-mail access even on her phone, so she wasn't really expecting a response. When Ray came home from the office, she promptly dragged him off to the computer and showed him the e-mail. “Maybe you should apply for the mother job,” he mused, peering at the screen. “You would have brought her up to take care of her responsibilities.”

“For all we know, her mother tried her best, but Brenda wouldn't listen.” Pauline paced back and forth. “What should I do? I have to respond somehow.”

“Don't do anything yet.” Ray wrapped her in a hug and pulled her close to his burly chest. “Sleep on it, and write back when you're calm and collected. You can't unsay something once it's said.”

Wearily, Pauline agreed.

That night she slept poorly, and the next morning she felt far from calm and collected. She picked at her breakfast before realizing she had no appetite, so she sat down at the computer to compose a response before sending the kids out to the school bus and heading off to work. The words wouldn't come. She couldn't think of what she could possibly say to defend herself, to get Brenda to pay up, and to make peace between them. Perhaps that was too much to ask of a single e-mail. With time running out, she instead wrote to Daria, the previous guild treasurer.

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Fwd: Your e-mail

Hi, Daria. I apologize for dragging you into this, but after discussing this upsetting e-mail from Brenda with Ray, I wanted to ask your advice as the person I inherited this job from. My only intention was to make sure we met the resort's deadline and secured the reduced rate, but Brenda has clearly taken offense. I'm willing to step down as treasurer if you think that's appropriate.

Thanks,

Pauline

She didn't realize she was considering resigning from office until she wrote the words.

She sent a similar e-mail to Jeanette, with apologies for interrupting her vacation with such ugliness, and then she left for work. When she returned home later that afternoon, she hoped to find supportive responses full of wisdom and sympathy in her in-box, but neither Daria nor Jeanette had replied, leaving her feeling more alone and lost than ever. Pauline was reluctant to write back to Brenda without first consulting another member of the guild, but she worried that Brenda would interpret silence as cowed acquiescence. So, with a little editorial help from Ray, she responded and hoped for the best.

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Your e-mail

Hi, Brenda.

I regret that my reminders offended you. All I wanted was to get us that discount and to save us some money that we could put to good use, but that's clearly not how you took it.

From my point of view, though, your response was unnecessarily hostile. If you think I've treated you inappropriately or unfairly, you should feel free to tell me in a frank, constructive manner.

I hope we can clear the air, since we may be working together as members of the Cherokee Rose Quilters for quite some time.

Thanks,

Pauline

The next day, Brenda wrote back.

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Your e-mail

Pauline:

I did not feel that you handled things in a nice, appropriate manner. Since you are not my mother, you did not need to repeatedly remind me after I told you in person that I would pay on time. If you couldn't resist, you should have (1) been nice about it and (2) told me privately instead of dragging the whole guild into it.

The way I see it, you started the snippy comments and when I called you on it, you did not like the results. What did you expect? You ought to know to treat others as you would like to be treated.

That said, I do not hold a grudge against you. I just did not feel that the snide comments were appreciated or necessary.

Brenda

Pauline read the message twice through before sitting back in her chair, utterly bewildered. Which of her comments, either spoken or written, could be construed as snide? How was it snippy to remind Brenda her payments were overdue? Pauline knew snide and snippy, and if she had wanted to be either she could have piled on the snide and snippy as thick and searing as a can of tar on an open fire in the Mojave.

“How big of her, not to hold a grudge against you for doing your job,” Ray remarked later when she showed him Brenda's latest missive. “Sounds like she has some mother issues too.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Pauline sighed heavily. Her head ached and her heart hurt. “I also noticed that she seems completely unaware that she said anything wrong, she doesn't acknowledge that she should have paid up by the deadline, and—and this is key—she doesn't mention anything about finally getting me that stinking check.”

Ray snorted. “I wouldn't count on getting one cent from her. She's dug in her heels, and now she's stalling just to spite you.”

But it wasn't only Pauline she was spiting. If they didn't pay the resort on time, the Cherokee Rose Quilters would lose the reduced rate, and they wouldn't have that tidy sum of money to put toward other causes.

Later that night, Pauline received a response from Daria, her predecessor as treasurer.

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Fwd: Your e-mail

I'm so shocked I don't even know what to say. You didn't do anything to deserve this sort of response. I need to think this over carefully. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? In the meantime, try to get a good night's sleep. Thank you again for being treasurer. We all (well, almost all) appreciate it.

Daria

The next day was a Saturday. While Ray shuttled the kids back and forth to their weekend sports and clubs and activities, Pauline moped around the house, attending to neglected chores and waiting for the phone to ring. Before Daria could keep her promise to call, Jeanette showed up on her doorstep, unexpected but very much welcome.

Pauline invited her in, poured them each a tall glass of sweet tea, and led her outside to the back porch. When Pauline asked about her vacation, Jeanette offered a few brief, hasty anecdotes before jettisoning any pretense that this was an ordinary social visit.

“I can't believe what Brenda wrote to you,” Jeanette said, fuming. “Well, I can believe it, since I know Brenda and I saw the e-mail, but still, I can't
believe
it.”

“I know what you mean,” said Pauline glumly. “I don't know if my response made things any worse, but it definitely didn't make them any better.”

“Pauline . . .” Jeanette hesitated. “Is there some reason why you reminded her about her late payment in the weekly update sent to the entire guild rather than writing to her privately?”

“She never responds to the e-mails I send her privately.” Pauline lifted her hands and let them fall into her lap, helpless. “And I do mean never. In all the time I've been treasurer, I've sent her what has to be hundreds of overdue-payment reminders, and she's never once replied. I'm never even sure that she receives them.”

“Oh, she receives them, all right,” said Jeanette grimly. “She never responded to Katie, either.”

“Katie?”

“She was the treasurer before Daria. She moved to Texas before you joined the guild.” Jeanette picked up her glass, which was misty with condensation, but she didn't drink. “Okay. Here's what I think, for what it's worth. I think Brenda believes you wanted to publicly humiliate her, to get back at her for paying late.”

“That wasn't my intention. I didn't want to punish her. I just wanted to get her to pay, and since she seemed to resent my reminder e-mails, I thought I would just add it to the weekly update as a casual, breezy aside.” Pauline hesitated. “And okay, maybe I wanted everyone else to know how late she was, but only to put the pressure on so she would pay before we lost the discount.” The way things were going, that outcome seemed inevitable. “I never intended to humiliate her. Honestly, I didn't think she was capable of being humiliated.”

“I believe you,” Jeanette said. “I'm just trying to explain how Brenda probably sees it.”

“If this had been the only incident . . .” Pauline began, thinking aloud—and then the whole story came tumbling out of her: Brenda's perpetual tardiness, her unresponsiveness, the number of times Pauline had paid her way and had not always been reimbursed. As she spoke, Pauline realized for the first time just how long the unpleasant situation had been going on, and how many times she had forced a smile and dealt with it rather than encourage Brenda to dislike her even more than she already did. Why had she put up with it so long?