Abby compressed her lips and kept right on sweeping.
Fannie sent up a quick prayer, determined to try one more time. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to work at the quilt shop on Monday of next week. Naomi’s made a doctor’s appointment for the boppli that day.”
Abby’s eyebrows drew together, and the floor creaked under her feet. “Is Susan sick?”
“It’s just for a checkup, and I suppose it might include a shot or two if the doctor says it’s time.”
Abby moved to the other side of the room, swishing the dust mop along the baseboard near the wall.
“Would you be willing to manage the quilt shop for Naomi that day?” Fannie persisted.
“I can’t, Mom. You know I can’t.”
“It’s hard for Naomi to haul both girls into town and try to watch them, plus help Caleb in the store, and wait on customers in the quilt shop, too.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Abby pushed the mop under Abraham’s favorite rocker, and then did the same to the chair beside it. “Can’t Matthew be there on Monday?”
“He’s got a dental appointment that day. Besides, now that he’s planning to open a woodworking shop—”
“I didn’t realize he was.”
Fannie nodded. “He’s been talking about it for some time. Haven’t you heard him mention it?”
Abby shrugged. “I thought he enjoyed working at the quilt shop.”
“He’s only been filling in, and I doubt he’d be happy doing that for the rest of his life.”
“What about Nancy? Can’t she work there on Monday?”
“Nancy started working as a maad for Anna Beechy last week. Have you forgotten?”
“Maybe you should close the shop until you’re ready to work full time again,” Abby said, making no comment on Nancy’s new job.
“That might not be for a while, if ever.” Fannie took a sip of tea, savoring the pleasant mint flavor and hoping it would help her relax. She wasn’t getting anywhere with her daughter and didn’t know if anything she could say would get through to her. “The twins are a handful, and I’m not sure how well it would work for me to take ’em to the quilt shop every day.”
“Naomi does it.”
“I know, but her girls are further apart in age than my two little fellows.”
“I can watch Timothy and Titus while you go to the quilt shop.”
Fannie shook her head. “You’re at home too much as it is. Wouldn’t you enjoy workin’ among the quilts again?”
Abby’s winced as though she’d pricked her finger with a needle. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Mom. If Lester hadn’t tried to rescue my quilts, he wouldn’t have been killed.” Abby sucked in a deep breath and released it with a moan. “I doubt I’ll ever have the desire to make another quilt, much less run a quilt shop.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to begin moving on with your life, Abby?”
“I am moving on.”
“No, you’re not. You stay cooped up here most of the time, minding the twins and working until you’re ready to drop.”
With no further comment, Abby headed for the door, holding the dust mop in front of her. A few seconds later, she stepped outside.
A blast of cold air whipped through the open doorway and Fannie shivered. She glanced out the window and saw Abby on the porch, shaking the mop so hard she feared the head might fly right off. Lord, please intervene on my daughter’s behalf. I fear if she doesn’t soon deal with her pain she’ll likely cave in.
Abby reentered the living room a few minutes later, leaned the mop in one corner, and grabbed the dust rag from the table where she’d placed it earlier. She swished it across the front windowsills and worked her way around the room, dusting every nook and cranny.
“Naomi told me that Gladys Yutzy and Rhoda Lapp were by the quilt shop the other day,” Fannie commented. “They both asked about you.”
No response.
“I think they’d like to get together and do some quilting.”
Still nothing from Abby.
“Rhoda thinks it would be fun to make a friendship quilt.”
“They can do that without me.”
“Gladys mentioned a quilt auction that’s to be held in Kentucky this spring. They’re looking for Amish quilts from all over the country, so I thought maybe we could send a few from my shop.”
“Whatever you want to do, Mom. It doesn’t concern me.”
Fannie set her cup on the coffee table and stood. “Oh, Abby, if you’d only get back into the routine of things maybe you would—”
“I won’t work at the quilt shop, and nothing is going to change my mind!” Abby whirled around and fled from the room.
Fannie flopped onto the couch with a groan. “Oh, Lord, what’s it gonna take to reach her?”
“Why do you have to leave for work so early this morning?” Linda asked Jim as he turned off the alarm clock and crawled out of bed.
“I’ve got an early job, and I told you that last night. Just go on back to sleep.”
“I’m already awake, so I may as well get up with you,” she murmured, although it was tempting to stay under the warmth of their cozy Amish quilt.
“I can make my own lunch. There’s no reason for you to get up,” he insisted.
“And let you leave the house with nothing but a thermos full of black coffee and a couple of donuts?” Linda pushed the covers aside and reached for her fuzzy yellow robe, lying on the chair near her dressing table.
“Yeah, okay, whatever.”
While Jim headed for the bathroom, Linda put on her slippers and padded down the hall. She stopped long enough to peek into Jimmy’s room and was relieved to see that he was still asleep.
A short time later, she and Jim were in the kitchen. He stood in front of the coffeepot while she worked at the counter making a ham and cheese sandwich. “Would you like me to fix some scrambled eggs?” she asked. “I can put some of this ham in with them.”
“Nope.”
“A bowl of oatmeal?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, how about—”
“I said no!”
Linda recoiled, feeling like she had been slapped. “You don’t have to be so mean.”
“I get tired of you hounding me about things,” he muttered.
“I don’t do it on purpose.” She turned her attention back to the sandwich, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears clouding her vision.
“You push too hard and try to smother me the way you do with Jimmy,” he grumbled.
Linda grabbed a knife and slathered some mayonnaise on the bread, willing herself to keep quiet. Since she’d become a Christian, she had tried harder to please Jim, but she often fell short. In fact, it seemed that nothing she did or said was good enough. Jim had become critical, finding fault with even the smallest things.
“I think if you found something constructive to do, we’d all be happier,” Jim said with a grunt.
She whirled around to face him. “What is it you think I should be doing?”
He eyed her critically. “You’ve gained a few pounds since Christmas. It might not be a bad idea if you started exercising so you can shed some of it.”
Linda’s hands went immediately to her hips. Had she put on weight? Maybe a little. “I could enroll in the fitness center you painted. If you’ve changed your mind about me going there, that is.”
Jim’s face turned red, and his forehead wrinkled. “Forget I said anything. The fitness center’s a bad idea.”
“Maybe I could buy an exercise tape and get together with Beth to work out.”
“You already spend too much time with that religious fanatic!” He stomped across the room, jerked open the refrigerator door, and grabbed a carton of milk. Then he turned, marched over to the cupboard, and reached around her to retrieve a glass.
“I’m sorry you don’t approve of my new friend,” Linda said, her defenses rising further. �
��If you weren’t so unwilling to get together with Beth and her husband and weren’t too stubborn to attend church regularly, you might realize there are more important things in life than painting twelve hours a day or hanging out with the guys at the pool hall when you aren’t working!” Linda’s hands shook, and she berated herself for losing her temper. This was no way to set a Christian example for Jim.
He slammed the glass down hard on the counter, and she was surprised it didn’t shatter. “Don’t start with me this morning, Linda. I’m not in the mood!”
She moved slowly toward him, praying they might be able to resolve this before he left for work and hoping their shouting hadn’t roused Jimmy. “Let’s not argue, Jim. I love you, and—”
“Then get off my back!”
A knot formed in Linda’s throat as her eyes flooded with tears. What had happened to their storybook romance? Had they both changed so much over the last few years that everything they said to each other turned into a disagreement?
She slunk back to the cupboard to put Jim’s sandwich in some plastic wrap as a feeling of despair weighed her down. As soon as she got Jimmy off to school, she planned to give Rev. Deming a call. She’d put it off long enough.
Abby leaned over the crib and pinned Timothy’s diaper in place. Titus would be next, and then she planned to take the boys downstairs to the parlor, where Mom was working on a new Sunday dress.
Titus began to cry, thrashing his arms and legs. In the process, he bopped his brother on the nose, and Timothy started to howl.
“Hush now; I’ll be done in a minute.” Abby’s patience was beginning to wane. She loved her little brothers, but there were times when they got on her nerves. Of course, she’d never let Mom know that.
Abby finished diapering the other twin and reached into the crib. Timothy had settled down, so she figured he could wait a few minutes while she carried Titus downstairs. She had no more than picked the boy up, when Timothy let loose with an ear-piercing wail. “I can’t carry you both at the same time,” she said, remembering when they were newborns and she’d been able to manage two at once. But the boys had been growing quicker than summer grass and were turning into a couple of chunks.
Timothy let out another yelp, and Abby felt as if she could scream. She hurried out of the room and down the hall.
Downstairs, as she put Titus in the playpen, she could still hear Timothy’s desperate cries.
“I’d better get that little fellow,” Mom said, looking up from her sewing project at the treadle sewing machine.
Abby shook her head. “I’ll do it.” She rushed up the stairs and stopped at the top long enough to catch her breath. A pulsating throb in her right temple let her know a headache was forthcoming, and a wave of heaviness settled on her shoulders. Keep going. Keep working. Don’t stop. Don’t take time to think.
The baby’s cries seemed to bounce off the walls and echo into the hallway. Abby lifted her shoulders and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m coming, Timothy!”
I’m glad we decided to visit my daed and the family today,” Naomi said to Caleb as they loaded the girls into their sleigh. “We haven’t spent much time together since Christmas.”
Caleb nodded. “Jah, and since this is an off-Sunday and there’s no preaching, it’s the perfect time to get in a good visit.” He reached over and took her hand. “Besides, a sleigh ride in the snow is pretty romantic, don’t ya think?”
She chuckled. “It used to be, when we were courting.”
“Still can be,” he said with a wink. “We’ve just got ourselves a couple of chaperones now.”
“I hope Abby’s willing to sit awhile and visit with us,” Naomi said, changing the subject. “The last time I dropped by, she kept running all over the place, fiddling with this, fixing that, and fussing over the twins. If she doesn’t slow down, I fear she’ll end up sick in bed.”
“Each person deals with their grief in a different way,” Caleb said, picking up the reins. “Giddyup there, boy!”
“You think that’s why Abby works so hard and won’t go to any social functions?”
“Yep. Most likely she’s still pinin’ for Lester.”
“But it’s been three months since he died, and she never talks about her pain.”
Caleb shrugged. “Remember what I was goin’ through when I crushed my hand under Mose Kauffman’s rig and knew I could never work on buggies again?”
“Jah. You refused to see me or even talk about what had happened.”
“I thought if I didn’t discuss it, I wouldn’t have to deal with the agony. But after your daed set me straight on a few things, I finally came to realize that life goes on, despite the trials that come our way. It’s what we do about our situation that makes the difference.” Caleb gave Naomi a lopsided grin. “I’m glad I listened to Abraham and bought his store. Otherwise we might not have gotten married or become the parents of such siess little girls.”
Naomi glanced at the baby in her arms and then looked over her shoulder at their other daughter. “Jah, Sarah and Susan are both mighty sweet. Two more precious girls cannot be found in all of Lancaster County.”
“My advice is for you to continue being Abby’s friend, pray for her, and encourage her to get back to quiltin’ again.”
“You’re right, that is what she needs,” Naomi agreed. “Fannie confided in me the other day that Abby won’t work on quilts and has tried to take over the care of Timothy and Titus so much so that Fannie feels as if she’s not able to raise her own boys.”
“Can’t say as I blame her for feelin’ frustrated. I wouldn’t want someone else takin’ over the care of our kinner, would you?”
Naomi shook her head. “Not unless I was sick or injured and couldn’t do it. But Fannie’s been feeling fine for some time, so there’s no logical reason for Abby to take over the way she has.”
“No reason except she’s drivin’ herself in order to keep from dealin’ with her pain.”
“I asked Fannie to speak with Abby about filling in for me tomorrow while I take Susan to her doctor’s appointment.”
“You think she’ll do it?”
Naomi shrugged. “Guess I won’t know ’til we get to their place and I’ve had a chance to speak with her.”
Abby glanced out the kitchen window and saw the Hoffmeirs’ sleigh pull into their yard. The realization that she would never experience the joy of bundling up in the snow with her husband and children hit her like a vicious stab to the stomach. When her quilt shop went up in flames so did her hopes and dreams. When Lester was killed so was her chance to marry and raise a family.
“Naomi’s here!” Mary Ann hollered from across the room. “Now I get to play with my nieces.”
Abby was tempted to hurry upstairs to her room so she wouldn’t have to socialize, but she knew that would be rude. Instead, she scooted over to the stove and flicked the propane switch on. She would heat water for tea and serve it to their guests, along with the apple crumb pie she’d made yesterday.
A short time later, the adults gathered around the table, and Nancy, Mary Ann, and Samuel went to the living room to entertain the little ones.
“Umm. . .this is sure good pie,” Matthew said, smiling at Abby.
“Danki.”
Naomi nodded. “Apple crumb pie and hot cinnamon tea hits the spot on a cold, snowy day.”
Abraham chuckled and thumped his stomach. “I can eat pie most any time of the year. Or any time of the day or night for that matter.”
Abby’s mamm reached over and jabbed him in the ribs. “I knew you would say something like that, husband.”
He tickled her under the chin. “You know me so well.”
Tears pricked Abby’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over. All this happy talk was one more reminder of her great loss.
“My favorite pie is cherry,” Jake said, swiping a napkin across his chin.
“Mine’s peach, although I don’t get it as often as I’d like.” Caleb gave Naomi
a sidelong glance, but she just ignored him.
Mom pushed away from the table. “I think I hear my boys crying.”
Abby jumped up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. “I’ll see to them. You stay and visit with your company.”
“But they might need to be fed,” her mother said firmly. “Besides, our company came to see you, too.” She hurried out of the room before Abby had a chance to argue the point.
Feeling like a caged animal, Abby grabbed her shawl off a wall peg and made a beeline for the back door.
“Where ya goin’?” Abraham called after her.
“Just need a bit of fresh air.”
Outside, Abby stepped carefully over the ridges of frozen snow as she made her way to the barn. The ground was slippery beneath her feet, and she knew she mustn’t run. A few minutes later, she opened the barn door and stepped inside, relieved to discover a lantern had been lit and a fire blazed in the woodstove. She took a seat on a bale of straw and leaned her head against the wall. Everyone must think I’m terrible, but I couldn’t stay in there a minute longer.
A fluffy gray and white cat rubbed against Abby’s legs and purred. When she was a young girl, she’d enjoyed playing with the kittens in their barn and found comfort in holding one close and letting it lick her nose with its sandpapery tongue. Not anymore. Abby felt irritation as soon as the cat showed up.
She stood and moved closer to the stove. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I enjoy any of the things that used to bring me pleasure?
The door squeaked, and Abby turned to see who had entered the barn. It was Naomi.
“I came to see if you’re all right,” Naomi said, crossing the room.
“I’m fine.”
“Would you mind if I stay awhile so we can talk?”
Abby shrugged. “I’m not good company today.”
“That’s okay; you don’t have to be.” Naomi motioned to the bale of straw. “Let’s have a seat, shall we?”
The Quilter's Daughter Page 17