Scrap Everything Read online

  “By 1975, with a growing interest in genealogy, scrapbooking came back into vogue.” Miss Perky laughed again. “Well, that’s my introduction. The rest is history. Today, scrapbooking is a two-and-a-half-billion-dollar-a-year business just in the United States.”

  Elise shifted from one foot to the other. Where was the coffee?

  “This morning we’re going to talk about the best books, best paper, and best adhesive materials.” The leader stopped speaking when she saw Elise, and her dark eyebrows rose. She smiled broadly. “Oh, hi!” she called out to Elise, shading her eyes. “I thought I heard the door, but I couldn’t see you against the light. Come in. You haven’t missed a thing.”

  “I just wanted to look around.” Elise stepped forward.

  The woman’s dark brown eyes danced. “I’m Rebekah! I just opened the shop yesterday.” She motioned over the balcony railing. Below, stacks of paper lined one wall, and unopened boxes covered a table.

  All the women stared at Elise, smiling. They looked friendly. Too friendly. How could she leave without appearing rude? “I’ll just sit and listen.”

  Rebekah smiled. “Let me know if you want to do the two scrapbook pages after I finish my presentation.”

  Elise pulled out a cold metal chair. Rebekah broached the subject of creating a theme. “Plan ahead,” she said. “I’ve even been known to dress my kids in outfits that match the paper I have in mind for a certain holiday. Of course, now they’re old enough to protest that sort of thing.”

  The other women nodded and smiled. One woman pointed to the layout in front of her. Elise craned her neck. Duck paper and stickers surrounded a baby wearing a duck sleeper.

  Rebekah giggled. “Oh, I’m relieved to know I’m not the only scrapper mom around. Scrapbooking is like life—sometimes you just have to make things happen.”

  Elise decided she would rather make things not happen.

  After the presentation, Rebekah beelined to Elise with her hand extended. “Are you new in town?”

  “We’ve been here a month. I’m Elise.” She took Rebekah’s hand; Miss Perky’s fingernails were short and unpolished.

  “Where did you move from?”

  “Colorado. Before that, Georgia.” And before that, Texas, Kentucky, Kansas, Germany, Virginia, Maryland, and Seattle, but Rebekah probably didn’t want the whole story.

  “Georgia? You don’t have an accent.”

  Elise shook her head. “I was raised in Washington State—in a little town called Cascade Pass. My husband was in the army.”

  Rebekah put one hand on her hip. “Wait a minute. What’s your last name?”

  “Shelton.”

  “John Shelton’s daughter-in-law?”

  Elise nodded.

  “I know John from church. And my son has talked about your boys. They play football, right?”

  Elise nodded again. “In fact, I was thinking about making a football scrapbook for them.”

  Rebekah headed toward the rack. “We have the cutest football stickers.”

  “Stickers?” Elise followed.

  “You don’t like stickers?” Rebekah spun the rack around.

  Elise quickly shook her head. “These look great.” Little stick figures wore helmets and held footballs in various poses. There were baseball, basketball, tennis, volleyball, and soccer stickers too. Elise pulled three sets from the rack.

  Rebekah introduced Elise around the room, ending with Sandi Snow, a woman in her fifties with spiked white hair. “John was in the grief group that I led at church,” Sandi said. It had been a year and a half since Maude, Elise’s mother-in-law, had passed away. Elise turned away from Sandi. Another detriment to living in Forest Falls was that everyone had known her mother-in-law. Maybe they already had an opinion about Elise.

  The women visited while they worked, and Elise looked through a rack of paper. Rebekah brought a stack of albums up the stairs. “How long have you been scrapping?”

  “Actually, I don’t.” Elise sat down.

  “You do now.” Sandi rummaged in a large bag at her feet.

  “Oh, I almost forgot to tell everyone.” Rebekah dropped the albums onto the table. “A cougar ran through our field late last night. You should have heard it scream; I’ve never heard anything so hair-raising in my entire life.”

  Elise’s heart raced. She couldn’t wait to tell Ted that she was right about the cougar.

  “Did you see it?” Sandi asked.

  Rebekah shook her head.

  “I saw one last night,” Elise blurted.

  “You’re kidding!” Rebekah sat down beside her.

  “I was just a few miles from town, and it ran across the road right in front of me.”

  “Must be the same one.” Sandi placed a photo in a small paper cutter and zipped the blade back and forth.

  “I hope so,” Rebekah interjected. “I’d hate for more than one of those creatures to be around.” She spread the albums across the table. “Our neighbors found one of their sheep half-eaten night before last.”

  “Weren’t you going to get a dog?” Sandi asked.

  Rebekah leaned back against the cold metal chair. “Patrick says we should. He’s afraid the cougar will go after our horses or one of the kids.” Rebekah opened a black album and slid it toward Elise.

  “Horses?” Elise smiled at Rebekah. “You have horses?” She hoped that she sounded nonchalant.

  “Four.” Rebekah flipped the pages of the scrapbook. “This would work great for newspaper clippings and photos. What do you think?”

  Elise found herself chatting with the other ladies before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be having fun. Ted knew I’d do this, she said to herself, standing to go look at the merchandise.

  An hour later Rebekah rang up Elise’s book, stack of paper, adhesives, and football stickers. Examples of scrapbook pages hung on the wall behind the counter. A slight girl with light hair and a pixie look was in nearly every photo, along with a tall, dark-haired boy who looked like Rebekah. A man with strawberry blond hair hugged Rebekah in one of the pictures. Twine and thin scraps of leather framed photos of the girl and a horse, buttons and pieces of fabric adorned 4-H pages, and football-like stitching decorated a layout of the boy, outlined with stickers.

  Elise pulled out her Gold MasterCard.

  “This is just the beginning,” Sandi said, leaning over the balcony.

  Elise smiled politely, but she knew she would put the entire stack of scrapbooking paraphernalia in the hall closet and forget about it until she packed up the house next spring to move to Seattle. Then she would donate the album and paper to charity.

  “I’ll give you some advice,” Sandi continued. “Be vague with your husband about what you’re doing and how much it costs.”

  “Maybe he’d like to join us since he’s retired.” Rebekah handed Elise a pen.

  “No way!” Sandi called down. “This is our place. In the old days women got together to quilt and gossip. Now we scrapbook.”

  “Or go horseback riding.”

  “How do you find time to ride?” Elise asked Rebekah.

  “I don’t find the time. Not since I decided to open the shop.” Rebekah slid Elise’s purchases into a bag. “But I need to.”

  “I used to ride.” Elise signed the receipt.

  “Come ride with me sometime!”

  “Seriously?” Elise dropped the pen into a shack-shaped mug. “When?”

  “How about Saturday? I’ll close the shop at four.”

  “Perfect.” This wasn’t about making a friend—she and Rebekah had nothing in common. It was about riding a horse. Still, Ted would be pleased.

  “Great. The next scrapbooking class is one week from today.” Rebekah handed Elise her copy of the receipt and the bag. “Bring your photos. We’ll learn to crop.”

  “Crop.” Elise repeated the word as if she understood.

  “See you Saturday.”

  Elise tucked the receipt into her purse and headed toward the do
or.

  “Rebekah, what are you getting yourself into? You don’t have time—” Sandi’s loud whisper followed Elise as she tripped over the threshold onto the sidewalk.

  Rebekah leaned against the side of her green Dodge Dakota quad cab and tapped her cowboy boot against the pavement. She had closed the shop fifteen minutes ago. Where was Elise? Perhaps she wouldn’t show. Maybe Sandi was right. Maybe Rebekah didn’t have time now to get involved with one more person. True, she did need to exercise the horses, but here she was, waiting for Elise and wasting time. Sandi had also pointed out that Elise seemed awfully pretentious. Rebekah agreed. Elise’s expression conveyed it all—the same timeless look popular girls wielded in middle school. Still, Rebekah reasoned, the girls she disliked the most from preschool through college had all ended up as her best friends. It seemed, throughout her entire life, that God had connected her with people she never would have chosen. Why fight it? she reasoned with herself.

  Rebekah opened the door of her truck and climbed in. Elise’s fair complexion, blond hair, and small stature made Rebekah think of Pepper. Would her little girl look like Elise when she was grown?

  A Volvo station wagon pulled into a parking space across the street. “Am I too late?” Elise called out.

  Rebekah opened her window. “I thought maybe you had forgotten.”

  Elise shook her head.

  Rebekah started her truck. “Let’s go.”

  Rebekah waited for Elise to catch up before she turned into the circular drive lined with elm trees. The afternoon sun danced through the grove of spruce trees that surrounded the house. Rebekah led the way up the front steps onto the wraparound porch and through the front door, past the open cherry-wood staircase, and through the living room. Elise commented on the camelback sofa and followed Rebekah through the dining room, around the oak table with mismatched antique chairs. Would Elise realize that she had mismatched the chairs on purpose?

  Rebekah swung the kitchen door hard, making it stay open. The kitchen was huge and full of light. The cupboards, all painted white, had been refinished, and a center island and breakfast bar had been added. “My husband, Patrick, and the kids are out in the field repairing the fence.” She stopped at the window over the sink. “See? You can barely make them out. They’re straight across from the oak tree in the middle of the pasture.”

  Elise squinted at the three shapes on the edge of the field next to the road.

  “You need some boots.” Rebekah bumped into a stool at the breakfast bar and headed toward the mud porch. “What size shoe do you wear?”

  “Six.”

  “Figures.” Rebekah laughed and looked down at her own feet. “Mine are size ten. Maybe Pepper’s will fit you.”

  “Pepper?”

  “My daughter.”

  The sweet scent of alfalfa swept over Rebekah as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She loved the barn. Two calico cats scurried behind a bag of feed, a starling flew out the open door, and country music played on the radio. Rebekah snapped it off. “Pepper loves this stuff. She says the horses do too.”

  She slipped the halter onto the Appaloosa gelding and then slung a saddle and blanket off the saddletree. “This is Sky. He’s pretty green and high strung,” she said. “Most Appaloosas are, but his dam is a great horse—she’s in the next stall—and Sky will be too, soon.”

  “His dam?”

  “His mother. You’ll ride her.” Rebekah inhaled the rich aroma of the horses as she cinched Sky’s saddle. Next she stroked the mare’s neck, grabbed another saddle, and propelled it onto the horse.

  “Thanks for doing the saddling. My back has been acting up.” Elise rolled her shoulders. Rebekah wondered if Elise could saddle a horse regardless. She wasn’t much bigger than Pepper.

  “Hi!” The barn door slid open. “I saw you guys drive up.”

  “Hey, Pep.” Rebekah stuck her head out of the stall. “This is Elise Shelton.”

  “Mark and Michael Shelton’s mom?” Pepper clapped her hands together. “Tall with long blond hair? Short with curly dark hair and blue eyes?”

  Elise nodded and extended her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you. I plan to volunteer at your school library, to keep an eye on my boys.”

  “All the girls are crazy about Mark.”

  Elise frowned. “Great.”

  “Do you like Forest Falls?” Pepper kissed Sky’s neck.

  “I do. You have a very nice town. Still, it’s a bit of an adjustment.”

  Pepper nodded empathetically. “I know. I hated it here at first, for the first couple of days anyway.”

  “When did you move here?” Elise asked.

  “Last year.” Pepper slipped her ponytail fastener around her wrist and shook out her hair.

  Elise turned toward Rebekah. “I thought you grew up here.”

  Rebekah shrugged. “It feels like it.”

  “In just one year?”

  Rebekah nodded and led the way to the pasture. “I think it’s been the hardest on Reid—”

  “But he’s doing okay now,” Pepper interrupted. “He has football and basketball—and the computer. It’s suppose to be for both of us, but he never lets me use it.” Pepper slapped her hands against her thighs, leaving dusty prints on her jeans. “Where did you two meet?”

  “At the shop on Thursday.” Rebekah tightened Sky’s saddle. “I have a feeling that we’re going to end up being great friends.” Rebekah cringed at her own words. Her voice had sounded odd—not exactly sarcastic, but not exactly sincere, either. She hoped Elise hadn’t noticed.

  Elise turned abruptly. “You sound like you’ve had a vision.”

  A nervous here-comes-the-truth giggle escaped from Rebekah. “No, it’s not that. I just know. I’ll tell you later, okay?” She paused, a little embarrassed, and then continued as she swung herself into the saddle. “After we really are friends.”

  Pepper rolled her eyes. “Mom.” The word came out in a moan.

  Elise had a confused expression on her face as she grabbed the horn, lifted her left foot into the stirrup, hopped on her right leg, and then hoisted herself into the saddle. She began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Rebekah asked. Maybe the woman did have a sense of humor.

  “Nothing,” Elise said. “It’s just that this feels good.”

  “Wait until tomorrow.”

  Rebekah turned her head as she and Sky led the way up the trail into the forest. Elise adjusted the reins in her hand, threading them over her thumb. “Giddyup.” Elise kicked her heels gently against the mare’s belly, and the horse jerked ahead. “Whoa!” Elise pulled back on the reins, and the horse halted and then slowly started walking in reverse. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve done this.”

  “Stop pulling on the reins.” Rebekah stopped Sky. “You’re telling her to go backward. Just pull once and think stop.”

  “Think?”

  Rebekah nodded. “She can read your mind.” Rebekah clicked her tongue, and the horses started forward again. “Riding horses is all about balance,” Rebekah called out. “And breathing. Find your balance—plant the pockets of your jeans in the saddle. And breathe from the bottom of your boots. Don’t worry. It will all come back to you.”

  The orange and yellow leaves on the vine maples danced brightly against the rough trunks of the evergreen trees. Huge maidenhair ferns covered the ground. The trail widened, and Rebekah slowed. “You’re doing great. You’re a natural.”

  Elise smiled and wrinkled her nose. “How come you don’t wear a hat?” she asked.

  “I lost it further up the trail. It flew over a cliff on a crazy midnight ride. I haven’t had a chance to buy another one.” Rebekah glanced upward. “Clouds are rolling in. Are we supposed to get rain?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you a medical person too? Is that how you met your husband?” Rebekah leaned back in the saddle to look at Elise.

  Elise shook her head. “I deplore hospitals.”

  T
he mare’s ears twitched as she lifted her head. “What is it?” Rebekah leaned forward. Sky snorted and stopped abruptly.

  The mare pawed at the trail. “What’s wrong?” Elise asked.

  “I don’t know.” Rebekah patted the horse. He sidestepped and then reared as a horrible, high-pitched scream tore through the forest.

  Rebekah pulled tightly on Sky’s reins. “Come on.” She and her mount veered off the trail. She flung the rein against Sky’s rump and leaned forward, reeling through the cottonwood trees. Rebekah turned her head. Elise was far behind and bouncing like a jack-in-the-box all over the saddle.

  The cougar screamed again as Rebekah and Sky splashed through the creek and flew into the field. The screech came from the south, away from the house, down toward the broken fence. Rebekah urged Sky to run faster. The Appaloosa strained. They raced past the oak tree and over the knoll toward the fence line. Terror filled Reid’s brown eyes as he stood statue-still with a shovel in his hand.

  “Where’s Pepper?” Rebekah yelled.

  Reid pointed with the blade back toward the tree. The cougar screamed again—this time a hideous shriek. Rebekah shivered. Crouched fifty yards from the tree was the cougar. Pepper stood on the lowest limb and pointed at the cat.

  Elise dug her heels into the mare, trying to catch up with Rebekah.

  She didn’t want to be left alone in the back pasture with nothing between her and the cat.

  “Elise, stop!” Rebekah shouted. She turned toward Reid. “Where’s your dad?”

  “At the house.” The boy’s legs shook in his long basketball shorts.

  Rebekah raced Sky toward Reid and grabbed the shovel. “Go!” She whipped the horse’s backside with the end of the reins and headed toward Pepper.

  “Mom!” Pepper’s voice came from the tree. Crouching in the grass was the cougar. Elise almost screamed but then saw Rebekah stop Sky halfway between the cat and the tree, lift the shovel, and begin waving it back and forth.

  “Mom! Don’t let the cougar get Sky!” Pepper yelled.

  “Get Reid!” Rebekah shouted to Elise. “Then go to the house for Patrick.”

  Elise turned her horse. The mare lurched forward, galloping toward the fence as Elise motioned to Reid. He stood, paralyzed.