An Elm Creek Quilts Sampler

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An Elm Creek Quilts Sampler Page 94

by Jennier Chiaverini


  Vinnie nearly reeled from astonishment.

  One by one, the Cross-Country Quilters began to laugh as other campers surrounded their friend, hugging her and wishing her a happy birthday. Sylvia led them in singing “Happy Birthday” as she led Vinnie to a place of honor, a seat at a table with a birthday cake in the middle.

  “I can’t believe we forgot,” Donna whispered to Megan in dismay as Vinnie made a short speech thanking everyone for their good wishes.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Megan said with a shrug. “Vinnie forgot, too.”

  And it was true. This year, Vinnie’s Elm Creek Quilt Camp surprise birthday party was indeed a surprise.

  Sylvia’s prediction came true; after the birthday party, the Cross-Country Quilters were in such good spirits that they finished the quilt in no time. Each signed the back with her name, her city and state, and the name of the block she had made. All that remained was to admire their handiwork and praise themselves for the hard work, quilting and otherwise, they had put into their masterpiece.

  But then Vinnie frowned. “Who gets the quilt now?”

  All they could do was look at each other. Somehow, the thought of what would become of the quilt after its completion had never occurred to them. They could hardly divide it into equal shares, as they had the autumn leaf fabric the year before.

  “Maybe we should ask Sylvia to display it here,” Donna suggested. “To inspire other campers.”

  “Not on your life,” Vinnie retorted. “If that’s our best option, I’m taking it home.”

  “Why you?” Julia protested, nudging her.

  “I have seniority,” Vinnie said in a lofty voice, and they all laughed.

  “We could draw straws,” Megan said, but she didn’t look satisfied with that solution.

  “We should take turns,” Grace said, and soon it was decided that Vinnie would be allowed to take the quilt home first, since it was, after all, her birthday. Next year, and every year after that, they would meet at Elm Creek Quilt Camp to renew their friendship and pass on the quilt to the next in line.

  Vinnie was pleased that she got to be first, but she still looked doubtful. “A year is an awfully long time to wait.”

  Donna smiled. “Not if we keep busy with a new project.”

  She reached for her bag and brought out two yards of fabric she had been saving for exactly this occasion.

  Good-byes were even more difficult and tearful than they had been the year before, even though each knew she would be seeing her friends again the next summer. Megan reflected that if their friendship had survived that first, most difficult year, it would surely endure as long as they nurtured it.

  Julia left first, waving her fat quarter of Donna’s fabric out the window at her friends as her limousine pulled away. Donna and Grace rode the shuttle to the airport together, able to postpone their farewells for another two hours. Then only Megan and Vinnie remained in the parking lot behind Elm Creek Manor, waiting for Vinnie’s ride and watching other campers load their cars.

  Megan’s heart began to pound with nervousness as a familiar car crossed the bridge over Elm Creek, slowing as it approached them.

  “Well, there’s my ride,” Vinnie said, sighing. She hugged Megan and added, “Take care of yourself, dear.”

  “You, too,” Megan said. “I’ll see you next year.”

  Vinnie nodded, and they both fell silent as Adam got out of the car. “Hi, Nana,” he said, bending over to kiss her cheek. His eyes went to Megan. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “My goodness, my legs are so tired,” Vinnie said, hurrying toward the car with a speed that belied her words. “I’d better sit down.” She let herself in the passenger side and shut the door.

  Megan and Adam watched her, then looked at each other. “She’s still at it, I see,” Megan said.

  “She doesn’t give up easily.”

  Megan nodded, unable to think of anything more to say.

  “How’s Robby?” Adam asked.

  “Good. He’s good.”

  “Good.”

  Megan nodded again, pained by the deep loss she felt seeing him again, and wishing that things had turned out differently. “Well,” she said, when she could no longer bear the awkwardness between them. “I’d better get going.”

  “Me, too,” he said, indicating his car with a tilt of his head. Suddenly he extended his hand. “Have a safe trip.”

  She shook it. “You, too.”

  “Say hello to Robby for me.”

  “I will.”

  He nodded, and gave her a smile that was both wistful and understanding, then placed Vinnie’s suitcase in the trunk, got into his car, and drove away.

  Megan watched him go, then sighed and carried her bag across the parking lot to her own car. It had been difficult seeing him again, as she had imagined it would be, but her heart ached only a little, and she would get over it. Next year, she promised herself, she would be able to face him without the slightest hint of regret.

  Or maybe she would spare them both another awkward scene. Someone else could wait with Vinnie next time.

  “Well?” Nana asked as they drove through the forest toward the main road.

  “Well what?”

  “Did you apologize?”

  Adam glanced at her. “I apologized months ago. It didn’t do any good.”

  “So you’re just going to give up? Don’t you sit there and tell me you don’t care about her. I know you still love her.”

  At first Adam said nothing, reluctant to discuss the deepest feelings of his heart with his grandmother, who, it had to be said, didn’t always recognize the importance of keeping a secret. Then, suddenly, he didn’t care whom she told. She could tell all her quilting friends if she liked—she could even tell Megan if she was determined to do so. It was the truth, and he was tired of pretending otherwise.

  “I never stopped loving her,” he said quietly.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nana glaring at him. “You should have told her.”

  “She doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want me in her life, Nana. She’s made that perfectly clear.”

  “You should have told her anyway.”

  Frustrated by the suspicion that maybe she was right, Adam shot back, “Maybe I’m tired of humiliating myself.”

  “I’m ashamed of you,” Nana retorted. She folded her arms and turned her head firmly toward the window, as if she would have turned her back on him if the seat belt permitted. “My only comfort is that your grandfather isn’t here to witness this appalling display of cowardice. You are a prideful, ignorant young man, and because of it, you’re going to lose that lovely young woman.”

  Adam was about to protest when suddenly, with a flash of insight, he realized that if he let Megan drive away without attempting to talk to her, he would deserve every word of his grandmother’s criticism.

  He turned the car around.

  Nana started. “What are you doing?”

  Adam said nothing. Determined now, he sped along the highway back the way they had come and turned onto the road through the forest. He passed the fork that led to the front entrance of Elm Creek Manor and continued along the narrow road that wound through the trees toward the back of the building. Megan would have taken the same road he had traveled on, and since he hadn’t seen her, she must still be back here—

  “You’re driving like a madman,” Nana shrieked. “Do you want to crash us into a tree? If another car comes—”

  But just then the forest gave way to a clearing. Ahead of them on the right was a two-story red barn built into the side of a hill, and coming around it at that moment was Megan’s car.

  Adam honked his horn and flashed his lights, slowing his car and pulling off the narrow road onto the bordering grassy meadow. He parked and kept honking, knowing she would recognize his car, but watched with a sinking heart as she drove toward him without slowing, and then passed.

  She didn’t even stop, he thought, bitte
r with disappointment. She had kept driving as if he were invisible. He reached for the keys and was about to start the engine when a glance in the rearview mirror told him he was mistaken.

  Megan had pulled her car off the road.

  Quickly he left his car and went to meet her. By the time he crossed the distance that separated them, Megan had exited her car and stood, arms folded, beside it.

  He waited until he reached her before saying, “I’m glad you stopped.”

  “I thought it might be an emergency.”

  “It is.” He searched for the words, but before he could think of something gentle and romantic to say, the truth spilled out. “Megan, you haven’t been fair to me. I never gave you any reason to doubt me, or to doubt how I feel about you. I know you’ve been lied to in the past, but not by me. Never by me.”

  She watched him, her green eyes wide and calm. “I know that.”

  “Then how could you have assumed the worst instead of believing me when I told you what happened? You know what Natalie’s like; I told you what she was like. Couldn’t you see she was baiting you?”

  “Not at the time, I couldn’t.”

  “What about now?”

  “Now …” She hesitated and looked away. “Now I think I gave Natalie exactly what she wanted.”

  “Not everything she wanted.”

  “You went back to her.”

  “No, I didn’t,” he said firmly. How he regretted every minute he had tried to soothe his loneliness for Megan by giving in to Natalie’s requests to try again. “Not in the way you think.”

  She fixed him with an inscrutable look. “And how is that?”

  “You think I love her, but I don’t. I couldn’t. How could I love her, when I’m still in love with you?”

  She was silent. “Are you?” she asked softly.

  “Yes, I am. And you’d better get used to it, because you can doubt me as much as you like, but I’m not Keith and never will be. And I’m not going to stop loving you no matter how much you want me to. And if you don’t want to see me again, you’d better forget about ever coming to back quilt camp, because I’m going to be here every year to drop off Nana and pick her up again, and every time I see you here, I’m going to ask for another chance.”

  He had to pause to take a breath, but her expression would have cut him short anyway.

  She was smiling.

  Two sisters pulled out of the parking lot behind the manor and drove across the bridge over Elm Creek, discussing whether they should stop at the charming quilt shop in downtown Waterford on their way home, or if the delay would cause their husbands to worry. They had just decided to drop by for a moment when they rounded the bend beside the barn and spotted two cars parked at the bottom of the hill where the road disappeared into the trees. A man and a woman stood beside the car closest to the forest.

  “What’s this?” said the elder sister, who was driving.

  “I have no idea,” said the younger, who looked more carefully and added, “Isn’t that Vinnie in the first car?”

  Sure enough, Vinnie’s familiar cloud of white hair was visible above the front passenger seat headrest.

  “Has there been an accident?” the elder sister wondered aloud. Vinnie smiled brightly through the window and waved as they passed.

  They waved back, puzzled. “Should we stop and offer to help?” the younger sister asked.

  The elder sister, her eyes on the young couple by the second car, suddenly broke into laughter. “They must be all right,” she said. “She’s kissing him.”

  The younger sister let out a wry chuckle. “Maybe we should ask them to help us.”

  Laughing, the two sisters drove past the couple in their warm embrace and into the shade of the forest, while behind them, within gray stone walls just down the road and across the creek, Sylvia Compson and the Elm Creek Quilters were congratulating themselves on another week of camp successfully concluded and preparing to welcome the next group of quilters, friends, and friends-to-be.

  About the Author

  Jennifer Chiaverini lives with her husband and two sons in Madison, Wisconsin. In addition to the six volumes in the Elm Creek Quilts series, she is the author of Elm Creek Quilts: Quilt Projects Inspired by the Elm Creek Quilts Novels and the designer of the Elm Creek Quilts fabric line from Red Rooster Fabrics.

  Table of Contents

  The Quilter’s Apprentice

  Round Robin

  The Cross-Country Quilters

  Table of Contents

  The Quilter’s Apprentice

  Round Robin

  The Cross-Country Quilters

 

 

 


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