Quilts, Tacos & Tattoos

Candy & Her Baby

We weren't always at the quilt shop, and my mom wasn't always a single mother. She spent her first year after high school trying to figure out what to do with her life. She went to Texas Tech to get away from her parents. She didn't really have an idea of what she wanted to be when she grew up, so she took a lot of P.E. classes her first semester. After one semester of bowling, tennis, archery and gymnastics, she dropped out. She moved to Dallas to try out life in the "Big D." Over the next year, she was a receptionist at a hair salon, a department store sales clerk and a dentist office assistant, all with no success. Then my grandmother encouraged her to be a flight attendant. "You should enjoy being young and travel the world."

Candy had been a dancer when she was younger and stayed fit. She was the perfect height and weight ratio for the job. She looked amazing in the flight attendant uniform and loved talking (i.e. flirting) with the customers. She always had a way with people and made everyone around her light up. Many boys wanted to date her in high school, but, from the age of sixteen, she only had eyes for my father. She had had a crush on him for three years and then dated him her junior and senior year in high school. After graduation, he signed up for the service, did boot camp at Lackland Air Force Base and then was deployed. They did their best to stay in touch. As a flight attendant, she was able to travel and meet him during his R&R. Two years into her flying career, she became pregnant with me. She was grounded as soon as her pregnancy began showing. Her wings clipped, she took a job behind the ticket counter.

She named me Christine Reese, but called me "Cricket" because I had a rattle I played with all the time as a baby that made a chirping sound.

Candy got her figure back right away. As a ticket agent, the uniforms were not as attractive as those of the flight attendants', but she managed to alter them to flatter her figure. Late at night she would use her Singer sewing machine to shorten her skirts and tighten the waist of her jackets. With her altered suit and high heels, she was hard to miss, even behind the counter, and her line was always the longest. Even though the heels killed her feet, she wore them to look and feel her best. She would often have to run in them as she chased a bag on the luggage belt for a customer who had forgotten to pack something. She loved her job at the airlines and worked very hard, very long hours.

Mom tried to make it work with my father. With a child, she was not as exotic and could not drop everything and meet him in Hawaii, California, or Mexico for the weekend.

When his parents found out about me, he decided to marry her and do the right thing. He was in and out of her life, and mine, for a few years. Nana and Pa purchased a little red house near theirs for us to live in, but he left the scene completely when I was six years old. I don't have a lot of good memories of our time as a family. I just remember it was a very sad time for Mom. And there was a lot of fighting and crying. Mom moved back to Dallas to work at the ticket counter again.

Mom worked and I stayed home alone a lot. Summer was my favorite time of year because I would stay with Nana and Pa, at their lake house. I had the freedom there to be a kid and explore the boathouse, the wading pool, the island, Granite Mountain beside their property, and Ma and Pa Walker's house up the road with their big garden exploding with vegetables.

After about two days, I would become utterly bored, which is why I learned to sew. Nana first taught me how to cross-stitch small samplers, crochet baby booties and hats, make my own clothes, and finally, how to quilt. The projects kept me busy, out of her hair and away from her Bridge games. What had started out as a summer projects turned into a love for the art of quilting. To encourage me, Nana would say, "Quilting is in our blood and our blue jeans." I always had a project going, sometimes two or three. I simply could not sit still unless my hands were sewing.

During the school year, with Mom working at the ticket counter, I was the model latch key kid.

"Eat one bowl of Lucky Charms, watch Scooby Doo, and then off to school," she would shout as she closed the door and locked me inside the one bedroom apartment. After school, I would start dinner at the beginning of Electric Company so it would be ready when she got home. My favorite meal was Macaroni n' Cheese, a Pepperidge Farm sausage link, and applesauce on the side.

Pa came to Dallas once a month to take me home with him for the weekend to give my mother a break. Normally, he left his office after work, so he got to our house after dinner. He'd sleep on the sofa then wake me up bright and early. We'd go get doughnuts and hit the road.

One Friday afternoon, Pa showed up early. He knocked on the door, and I pulled a chair to the door and peeked out through the peephole.

"Hold on while I move the chain, Pa," I yelled through door.

Seeing I was alone and making dinner, he asked, "Where is your mother?"

"She's at work, Pa. She'll be home by the time Electric Company is over," I proudly answered and walked toward the kitchen to stir the macaroni. He grabbed my arm and marched me to the bedroom.

"She may be home then, but you won't." He quickly threw my clothes and Barbie dolls into a pink and purple Miss Piggy backpack and moved me to Marble Falls, Texas, that night.

"Pa, am I in trouble?" I asked from the backseat, holding my Cabbage Patch doll close to me.

"No honey. Your Mama is," he answered, staring straight ahead.

I quietly cried myself to sleep each night Mom and I were apart. I had been at my grandparents before for long periods of time, but this time I was not sure if Mom was coming to get me or to join me. Both options seemed scary. Several weeks passed before Mom brought the rest of our stuff and joined me.