The Big, Shiny, Orange Button

Janey stood beside her Dad outside her grandmother’s house, waiting for her to answer the door. Janey loved visiting her grandmother; they always had fun together, but today Janey was sad, barely holding back tears. Her favorite blanket had lost a vital button to its secret compartment.

Grandma noticed the sad face the minute she opened the door. She gave Janey a sympathetic look and asked if she was okay.  Janey held up her blanket and started to cry, then ran past her to her couch. 

Grandma looked at her son, smiled, ” It will be okay, go do your errands.”

“Thanks, Mom.” he said appreciatively, then leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “I think this problem is one you are uniquely qualified to solve.”

His Mother’s eyes lit up. Immediately intrigued, he kissed her cheek, his eyes twinkling in that mischievous boyish smile of his as he turned to leave. 

Her eyes follow him, a warm smile on her face, as she closes the door. She stood frozen for moment in her entryway, lost in her memories, then sighed. She headed to the couch to find her sad, teary granddaughter sitting with her favorite blanket clutched to her chest. 

She hugs Janey and quietly asks, “What’s wrong?” 

Janey spreads out her favorite blanket on her lap and feels around for the hidden buttons that open the secret compartment.  She opens the flap that conceals the buttons, holds up the threads that once held the center button, and cries.  Hedgy, the Hedgehog, now falls out, and I almost lost him. 

Grandma pulls Janey close; the problem is now clear, and she understands her son’s cryptic message. She whispers, “I can fix that.” She handed Janey a tissue as she stood to grab an old cookie tin off the shelf. Janey looked up when she heard the soft sounds of rain coming from the large tin. When the lid was lifted, the light catching the inside created a glow from the gold interior finish.

Janey moved closer to peer inside, but before she could, Grandma spoke in a quiet voice, “These are the treasures of a seamstress.” Janey looked up at her in awe, then moved closer to look inside, the gold glow touching her face as she peered into the large tin filled with all kinds of buttons. Some were flat, some were metal, some were shaped like starfish and animals, while others had jewels in the center, or fabric covering them.

“There are so many kinds of buttons.” Janey whispered as her hand unconsciously reached inside to touch them. Grandma smiled at her granddaughter, mesmerized by the buttons, as she once had been by her mother’s button collection. All seamstresses had their collections of buttons, each one valued for its uniqueness.  

Janey picked up the pearl-looking ones, the light catching the pink and cream tones. An “oh” escaped as her hands felt the weight of the metal ones. The fabric ones had so many colors and textures. Then, as she dug her fingers through the jewelled treasures, her hand came up with a large button that fit perfectly in it.  It was shiny, smooth to the touch, with just the right amount of weight. Janey liked the feel.  Her grandmother tilted her head, looked it over, then caught Janey’s eye. 

You know, every button has its place. I have had this one for a long time. Your blanket will be the perfect place for this big orange button. 

Janey’s face lit up with pride over her choice. Grandma placed it on the blanket for Janey’s final approval; it was perfect against the white, soft, velvety fabric.  Janey looked at it and thought not only would it be easier to get her Hedgy out of the pocket, but it would be easier to find the opening. 

The other buttons are smaller and sometimes hide under the flap so well that I have had a hard time finding them. Janey explained. 

Grandma nodded in understanding. “Will it be alright if I keep your blanket for a day to make the adjustments for the new big orange button?” Janey looked worried.  Grandma caught it, touched her shoulder, “I promise to be very careful with it. I know how important it is to you.”  

Janey held the blanket in her hands, looking down at it, taking in every detail, and a little worried if she was making the right decision after all. The changes would give it a different look and feel. Grandma waited patiently, understanding the need to think through big decisions and the emotions change can bring. 

Would it be helpful if I showed you what I will do and how it will look? Grandma gently asked.

Janey nodded and moved a little closer to her grandmother to watch and listen.  Grandma went through each step one at a time and used visuals, so it was easy to see. She didn’t move on until the little girl was ready.  She explained where she would make a new button hole and how that would change the look. She explained that the other buttons could stay in place, but this bright orange, smooth button would not only be visible but also easy for her to run her finger over whenever she wanted. 

Janey smiled. She hadn’t let go of the button the whole time, except to place it, then immediately picked it up again, her thumb in constant motion, gliding over it. Janey asked questions. Grandma listened carefully, answered her, and offered suggestions when needed. 

Once she felt confident in their plan, Janey let go of her favorite blanket and the new favorite bright orange button and placed them in Grandma’s capable hands. Grandma knew she was being trusted with Janey’s most precious items. She carefully laid out her blanket, placed the button in the pocket, and then folded it up with great care. Grandma and Janey walked to her sewing room, carefully placing the blanket on the sewing machine. 

They stood side by side for a moment. Grandma gently nudged her, “You know we have some work to do.”  Janey looked puzzled. 

Grandma held out her hand, with a conspiratorial look, she said, “I have new ice cream flavors to be rated.” 

A large smile broke across Janey’s face. She enthusiastically grabbed her grandmother’s hand and led her to the kitchen. 

Grandma and Janey were amateur ice cream critics. Grandma always bought at least three different flavors at one time and had special glass bowls because color counted.  Janey got out the scooper while Grandma reached up for the bowls. Each bowl had three scoops, one of each flavor.  As part of their routine, they held up their bowls and looked at the colors. They guessed which color might be the tastiest and made notes in their small Ice cream taster notepads. Then they would sit and discuss each flavor, rate it, and decide if it was “repeat worthy”.  This was their special time; Janey knew no topic was off-limits or too crazy.  She would talk about everything, from elephant clouds to friends to her latest curiosities. Grandma would eat her ice cream, comment where necessary, but mainly listened and giggled along with Janey.  

Their conversation had moved from seeing Orcas in the clouds to looking them up on the tablet. They had lost all track of time when the doorbell rang. Janey’s Mother had come to pick her up. Grandpa was returning from his errands. As he passed Janey, they performed a spy-worthy candy handoff. Grandma and Grandpa exchanged a glance. Elizabeth, Janey’s mother, caught it. She knew her in-laws were incorrigible when it came to Janey, but it was why she loved them. She smiled at them, and then, in a matter-of-fact voice, she said, “All candy is for after dinner.”  Janey looked at her grandfather, who just shrugged and acted innocent.  Elizabeth hugged them goodbye and whispered in Charlotte’s ear, “Thanks for taking care of the blanket situation.” Charlotte’s blue eyes lit up, always happy to be a part of things. Janey gave her a big hug, and Grandma said, ” I will have it done in a day and keep it safe. Okay?” Janey nodded and hugged her tighter for a moment, and then grabbed her mother’s hand to go, almost skipping down the brick walkway. 

George slipped an arm around Charlotte’s waist, and she felt something heavy drop into her sweater’s pocket. They smiled and waved to Elizabeth and Janey as they drove off. George shut the door as Charlotte checked her pocket for George’s thoughtful gift. She pulled out her favorite, a large peanut butter cup. She leaned against him and smiled, “Oh, George, you never forget!”   

I thought you might need it later when working on Janey’s blanket. Scott called me earlier.  

Later that evening, George came to look in on Charlotte. He found her in her chair, leaning over, focused on her work. The blanket was on her lap, spilling down her legs. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the familiar sight of his wife sewing, glancing at the counter, looking for her peanut butter cup. Sure enough, it was there, cut into neat, even slices for small breaks.   

As he focused on what she was doing, he noticed the bright, shiny, large orange button. He stepped into the room, and Charlotte looked up, a little startled. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t feel his presence.  George moved closer and reached out to touch the button. Muscle memory took over as his thumb ran over the center. 

Did Janey choose this button? He asked, a little surprised. 

Charlotte took a deep breath, looked at the button, then up at her husband. “Janey looked at a few different buttons, then plunged her hands into the bottom of the tin, and when she pulled them out, this button was in her hand. She couldn’t put it down, just kept rubbing it. It took me a minute to catch my breath. I had forgotten I still had it.”

Did you tell her? George asked quietly

No. Charlotte responded, equally quiet. I just told her every button has its place, and her blanket would be perfect for it. 

Charlotte’s eyes started to gloss up, but then George caught the twinkle in them. 

What did you do, Charlotte? George asked, smiling at her. 

“Let’s say I added a secret to the secret pocket.”  Charlotte grinned as she opened the pocket and turned it a little inside out.  A small scrap of soft, old, yellow cloth with pencil-thin plaid lines in orange and green anchored the back of the button.  In tiny stitching, the initials G.C., S.C., and J.C. were hand-stitched.  

George wiped his eyes. I didn’t know you kept that tiny remnant.  Charlotte gave a half laugh, you know, a seamstress never throws out any scrap of material, especially this one. They both let out small laughs to hold back tears. George would never push her to clean out her sewing room again.  

The next night, Elizabeth invited George and Charlotte to dinner. Scott was working late; it would be nice to have their company. Their presence anchored her worries about Scott when he had to work late. Janey opened the door, hugged her grandmother and her grandfather, and her grandfather quickly performed another candy handoff. The two of them were perfecting the basic spy move.   

Elizabeth came to greet them, just missing the handoff.  As they sat down on the couches,

Charlotte felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. George reached for her hand. Janey came over and gave her a big hug.

“It is perfect, Grandma, I love the big shiny orange button.”  Janey grabbed her grandmother’s hand. “Let’s see how Hedgy fits into it now.”  Janey led her grandmother back to her room and grabbed Hedgy off her bed.

“Hedgy fits perfectly and it’s easier to get him out now.” Janey froze as she noticed the small scrap of the soft old cloth along with the stitching hidden on the inside of the pocket. She looked closer. She turned to her grandmother, puzzled.  Then she saw a twinkle in her grandmother’s eye and waited; something fun and interesting always started with that twinkle. 

Grandma looked around to make sure no one could hear, moved closer to Janey, and lowered voice to a whisper. “I thought a secret compartment deserved a secret code. However, I will leave this one to you and your father. ” Grandma gave her a conspiratorial smile, then said, “I am hungry. Let’s see if dinner is ready. Last one to the dinner table is a rotten egg.” Janey started laughing and took off running.  

Late that evening, Scott came home and looked in on his daughter. She was in a deep sleep, holding her repaired blanket, her thumb still touching the center of the big shiny orange button.  He stepped into the room for a closer look, not sure if his tired eyes were playing tricks on him.  His finger reached out to trace the edge of the orange button out of muscle memory.  Janey woke up a little. She saw her father running his fingers over the button; she smiled. In a sleepy voice, he hears, ” Grandma says there is a secret code inside.” Scott knew his eyes were not playing tricks on him; he put his hand on Janey’s head and brushed her hair out of her face. “We will solve it together in the morning, Agent Colby.” A giggle came out of Janey as she turned over and went back to sleep. Her father covered her shoulders and tucked the blanket with the orange button right by her hand; he was familiar with the comfort that the smooth orange button could bring when attached to a favorite blanket.