Seth held his gaze on Miriam until she looked into his eyes. “That is a beautiful color of dress she has on. Brighter than yours. No one would dare say the bishop’s wife wears anything improper.”
Miriam took a deep breath, nodded again, and squared her shoulders.
The corners of his lips curved up, and he patted her hand. “Gute. Will you sit by Laura? She needs a friend.”
Miriam nodded. She hooked an arm around Susie and led her to stand by Laura.
As she walked away, she realized she hadn’t said a word to Seth— not even a word of thanks for talking her heart off the ground. But she knew he had not been offended. He was a true friend.
* * * * *
“Do you think we will have enough food?” Mamm said.
Enough food? Miriam prayed they would not be overflowing with leftovers. She had assured Laura vigorously that everyone would be eager to come to her quilting circle. But as Tuesday approached, Miriam began to have her doubts. She had seen Ada Weaver and her sister, Sarah Schwartz, at the bulk food store and invited them to come and quilt. Ada told Miriam she and Sarah were dreadfully busy this time of year and couldn’t possibly spare the time.
Miriam had not expected more of them. But would the others come? Cousins Rebecca and Kate? Mary Shetler and Edna Miller? Would they see the circle as a chance to show charity or to make an unspoken statement about their feelings for Laura? Perhaps people would stay away because Susie would be there.
If the old Miriam had been invited to a quilting circle for Laura Lambright, she would have found a convenient excuse not to be there. After all, Laura had rejected the Ordnung and the church. Miriam would have considered Laura worldly and vain and would have made it a point to have nothing to do with her. Laura was not the sort of person the old Miriam would have wanted her name linked with.
Recognizing the change in her own attitude filled Miriam with astonishment. She was a new person, less judgmental, more accepting. And although she had lost Ephraim because of it, Miriam could not for a minute regret the person she left behind. She liked herself better these days.
Mamm and Susie would come, of course. Mamm had assured Miriam that helping Laura Lambright with a quilt was the charitable thing to do. “Seth cares for your foal,” she’d said. “It is kind of you to take an interest in his sister.”
Ellie would be there, but not to quilt. Quilting wreaked havoc on her fingernails, she had told Miriam.
So with at least five people at the quilting circle, it would not seem completely empty, and perhaps Laura would not recognize that she had been slighted. Miriam prayed hard that morning that, Lord willing, there would be a crowd. She would not for the world want Laura’s feelings hurt.
They knocked on the Lambrights’ door with Miriam toting a box of needles and tacks, thimbles, and thread. Susie held the plate of cold meats for dinner, and Mamm carried a large bowl of frog-eye salad— enough for twenty people.
As expected, Pookie barked right on cue. Laura threw open the door, her exuberant smile tainted by the uneasiness in her eyes.
They will come, Laura. Don’t worry about a thing. Everyone will come. I hope.
From her seat at the kitchen table Ellie scolded Pookie, and the dog stopped mid-bark and ran away. Miriam craned her neck to see if she could catch a glimpse of Seth. No such luck. He had probably removed himself as far as possible from the prospect of a quilting bee.
Laura took the bowl from Mamm. “Thank you for coming. You are so kind.”
Priscilla ran from the kitchen to her familiar place in Miriam’s arms.
“Priscilla! Don’t stomp your feet in the house,” Ellie yelled.
Miriam flinched at Ellie’s display of temper.
Priscilla tightened her arms around Miriam’s neck. “Sorry, Mamm.”
“Be more considerate next time.”
As if nothing were amiss, Priscilla gave Miriam an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. “I am so excited. Did you see Laura’s quilt?”
Miriam squeezed Priscilla tightly. “Are the frames outside?”
Laura nodded, almost breathless. “Jah, set up like you said. Come through the kitchen.”
Ellie, in bright yellow rubber gloves, sat at the table with an old toothbrush in her hand. “We needed one more good scrub before the quilting circle.” She glanced at Susie’s shoes as she shuffled to the back door. “Will people be walking in and out all day, do you think?”
The corners of Laura’s mouth sagged. “Just a few people, Mamm.”
Laura had set up her mother’s old quilting frames beneath a tall maple in the backyard. Ten folding chairs stood like sentinels in a circle around the frames. Laura’s quilt top and bottom and the batting sat patiently on one of the chairs.
“Okay, let’s get moving,” Mamm said. “The others will be here soon.”
The others. Yes, Lord willing.
Miriam and her mamm had set up so many quilts over the years, the process was almost like a dance. They folded the bottom fabric to find the center of each side then laid it facedown on the frames. Scilla raced from person to person, handing out tacks as if she were playing Button, Button. Susie and Laura quickly tacked the centers while Miriam and Mamm lightly tugged the fabric out toward the corners. When the corners were secure, they pressed a few more tacks into each side, pulling gently to stretch the bottom nice and smooth.
The fluffy polyester batting came next. Miriam let Scilla pull it from the package. The little girl giggled when it seemed to grow twice its size once free from the plastic bag. “It’s like popcorn,” she said. She bounced it in her arms and handed it to Miriam.
Once they unfolded the batting, fitted it to the bottom, and trimmed it, the top went on easily. They again started at the centers, adjusting the corners and securing the clamps a final time. Mamm and Susie oohed and aahed at the beautiful colors and striking pattern. Priscilla danced around the frames, waving her hands in the air and shouting at the top of her lungs, “It is the most beautifulest quilt in the world! Look at me, I am Lady Dancing!”
Laura beamed happily, but Miriam noticed her hands shaking slightly. They were both nervous wrecks.
Mamm pulled a chair up to the quilt and started threading needles. She rested her glasses on the end of her nose and looked over the rims. “How do you want it quilted, Laura? Around the edge of each square? Or we could stitch a star in the middle of each one. That would be cute.”
“Oh my,” said Laura, sinking into a chair as if the entire quilt were a lost cause. “I do not know. What shall we do, Miriam?”
“You can do it like my quilt,” Scilla said. “It was for Lady Dancing. I stitched around the squares.”
“Cum, Priscilla,” Susie said, grinning at the little girl’s exuberance, “I will show you how to start.”
“I know how to start. I made a quilt that I gave to Miriam.”
“I know you did,” Susie said. “It is on Miriam’s bed. Lady Dancing is sleeping under it.”
Priscilla smiled. “Jah. I know.”
Miriam studied the quilt top. “What would you like, Laura? I thought a line two inches on the inside of the edges would be nice. And simple. But stars would be darling. We would have to draw them in.”
“Let’s do lines two inches in,” Laura said. “I think even I can manage that.”
Edna Miller and her sister Naomi came around the side of the house just then. Edna had the spring in her step of a much younger woman, while Naomi plodded stiffly along as if she were marching to her own grave.
Miriam’s relief was palpable. If anyone would make the effort to come, it was Edna. Miriam wanted to jump to her feet and throw her arms around the dear woman. She opted for a wide smile. “I am so glad to see you.”
“The note on the door said to walk around the house to the back,” Edna said.
Naomi fanned herself with a handkerchief. “It is a miserable hike. The rocks are nasty on that side of the house.”
Edna planted an affectionate kiss on Laura’s che
ek. “Look at you. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of you for going on three years. You are so grown-up, I hardly recognize you. And Priscilla. You are so tall. How old are you now?”
“Six.”
“Six! I had not thought it possible.”
“I am helping with the quilt,” Priscilla said.
“You are? Then you are more grown-up than I thought. Any girl who can quilt is as smart as a tack.”
Naomi headed for the nearest chair.
Edna embraced Miriam. “Oh, my darling girl,” she whispered. “I heard what happened with Ephraim. That poor boy can’t see past the nose on his own face.”
Miriam resisted the urge to cry and let the pain wash through her. “I will be all right.”
“I know you will. Broken hearts mend in time, Lord willing. But Ephraim will come to regret it. I am sorry for it. When you feel extra sad, know that I say a prayer for you every day. I hope it will make you feel better.” Edna pulled away, patted Miriam’s arm, then moved a chair close to the quilt. “Cum, Naomi. Sit here and I will be next to you.”
Naomi groaned and made a great show of rising from the seat she had occupied for less than a minute. “Why can’t you leave me be, Eddy?”
Edna smiled and winked at Laura. “Naomi is the fastest quilter I know. We’d never finish this quilt today without her.”
Naomi sat in her new chair and held out her hand. “Well, hand me a needle, then. And a good, small thimble. I don’t like when it slips off my fingers.”
Next, cousins Kate, Linda, and Rebecca came around back with much more enthusiasm than Naomi had. Linda and Rebecca carried two folding chairs each, and Kate balanced a chocolate sheet cake on top of a bowl of potato salad.
“Extra chairs,” said Kate. “In case we need them.”
The chairs were nice, but Miriam rejoiced over the extra people. Considering how sparse she thought the attendance might be, she could be perfectly content with the size of their little group.
Mary Shetler arrived with Deborah Yoder and Deborah’s two married daughters. Laura’s smile got wider with each new guest. This was a true quilting circle now.
Seeing Mary, Miriam couldn’t help but recall her conversation with Yost when he’d said that something was amiss between Seth and Mary. She had seen Mary at the stable the first day she went to visit the foals, and Mary’s presence had not felt quite right then. Miriam shook her head to clear out such dark thoughts. This was exactly why she’d chastised Yost. There was no end to the troubles started by a rumor like that.
Edna had spoken the honest truth. Naomi was a speedy quilter— partly because she refused to carry on a conversation with anyone. Naomi was as sour as a green cherry, but Edna didn’t cater to her moods, so no one else did either.
Once Priscilla had a needle threaded, she planted herself next to Naomi and began chatting merrily. She didn’t seem troubled by Naomi’s sour disposition. Perhaps she knew that Naomi was the only person there who would let her talk without one word of interruption.
Laura threaded her needle for the third time and came close to Miriam. “Denki, Miriam,” she said, her smile as wide as the sky. “This is better than my best imagination.”
Everyone treated Laura as a dear friend or favorite niece. Miriam breathed easier for Laura’s sake, but she watched Deborah Troyer and her daughters make a wide path around Susie and sit as far from her as they could. Miriam felt a momentary prick of pain for Susie, but since everyone else acted so graciously, she thought herself ungrateful to focus on the few unkind ones. A few months ago, she would have behaved precisely the same way. Today, she took pity on those who stumbled on their own pride.
With most of her fears put to rest, Miriam found a spot next to Mamm, picked up a needle, and began to stitch. She worked a needle almost as quickly as Naomi. Before long, Miriam had completed a straight row of tiny stitches. She sat back and heard six or seven conversations going on at once. She always fancied that was why it was called a quilting bee, because talk around the quilt sounded like a buzzing beehive.
Rebecca and Deborah Troyer’s oldest daughter, Millie, talked of Rebecca’s husband, Levi. “I didn’t think he could get more handsome,” Rebecca said, “but the beard suits him.”
“My dat saw Levi’s mamm with Isaac Yutzy, driving down the road in a courting buggy.”
Kate perked up her ears at the mention of Isaac Yutzy. “He works for Nathaniel. A very nice man, but a bit old for Levi’s mamm. He’s going on seventy.”
Rebecca kept her eyes on her stitches. “I don’t give my opinion to his mamm. She might find older men attractive.”
A few of the women giggled.
“No one can speak for anyone else in matters of the heart,” said Edna.
Mary Shetler and Mamm leaned their heads together and carried on a hushed conversation. Miriam sat close enough to hear every word if she paid close attention.
“And did you know there is an Englisch boy hanging about with them?” she heard Mary say.
Miriam should have known they were fretting over their sons who had decided to befriend one another. It was not a relationship that either mother celebrated.
Mamm pressed her lips into a thin line. “Jah, Miriam said as much.”
“I am all aflutter to know what to do about it. I’ve got all de youngie at home who don’t give a moment’s peace, and Reuben badgering me that the house ain’t clean enough, and me feeling so tired. I can’t pay Jonas no attention nor get him to finish his chores. Reuben yells at him until he’s blue in the face, but it don’t do no good.”
Mamm turned her eyes to Miriam, put an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into the conversation since she was eavesdropping anyway. “Miriam makes Yost goodies, and we try to give him lots of hugs. But sometimes it is like hugging a porcupine.”
“Jonas says I am a bad mother, and his fater upholds him. Reuben tells me I cry too much at silly things.”
“Of course you are a gute mother. The little ones adore you. Surely Reuben can see that.”
“Nae, he is right. I am sorely lacking. I shouldn’t have come today, for all the work at home. My floor ain’t been mopped for three weeks, and the tomatoes are rotting on the vine. The thought of having to can tomatoes and peaches and corn makes me want to lie down and never get back up. Reuben says we will starve come wintertime because of me, because I won’t put up the tomatoes. And Jonas won’t heed a word I say. He thinks I am wicked.”
“Why would he think a thing like that?” Mamm said.
Miriam squirmed in her chair and buried her doubts. She had no reason to suspect Seth of any wrongdoing with another man’s wife. How dare Yost plant the seed?
When Mary didn’t answer, Mamm squeezed Miriam’s shoulder at the same time she patted Mary’s hand. “Do you have a canner?”
“As Reuben says, it sits idle in my cellar.”
“And bottles?”
“Jah, plenty of bottles.”
Mamm raised her eyebrows expectantly at Miriam and gave her a slight nod. “Okay, Miriam and I will come tomorrow after she gets home from work and help you can the tomatoes. Does that work for you, Miriam?”
“Jah. I would like to help.”
“I have two canners,” Mamm said. “That will be enough to keep us hopping.”
Mamm didn’t spend a lot of time talking about how people could solve their problems. She found something to do about it, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work, usually at the sacrifice of a great deal of time. Canning Mary’s tomatoes would not stop Reuben’s complaining or inspire Jonas to straighten up, but it would relieve some of Mary’s immediate burden.
“I am powerless to do anything about your marriage or your wayward son, but let me come to your house and make spaghetti sauce and ketchup”—that was the kind of thing Mamm did. And when all was said and done, it did make things better in some unexplainable way.
“Oh,” Mary said, trying to hide both her eagerness and her embarrassment, “I could not ask you to do that.”
“It will be fun. I will make sure Yost comes with us, and you tell Jonas too. Perhaps if we have them in the same room, we can scold them until they beg for mercy.”
Mary managed a half smile. “Or until they decide to abandon us altogether.”
The quilting progressed in earnest. Soon they were ready to roll the first side, and then the next. Miriam finished another row and stuck her head under the quilt. She loved to see the tiny points of light through the fabric that outlined the patterns on the top. The thread bonded the batting and fabric together, leaving the spaces in between the stitches puffy and raised—truly a three-dimensional work of art.
At this rate, the quilt would be done by dinnertime. They all could eat a good meal and still have time to make it home for afternoon chores.
Miriam threaded another needle. The last time she’d made a quilt for charity, Ephraim came over to the house and played volleyball with her brothers while she quilted. He came running into the house every ten minutes to check on her progress, teasing her that she was not fast enough and prodding her to hurry up so she could join them in volleyball.
Miriam ran her finger over the stitches and caught her breath. That was the first time she’d thought of Ephraim without being overcome with grief. Perhaps because it was a happy memory.
Volleyball in the backyard.
Miriam nearly laughed out loud when she thought of Seth playing volleyball at the Wengerds’ gathering. Her brothers would get a big laugh out of Seth’s skills. And he would laugh right along with them.
Her heart swelled. For the first time in a long time, she pictured happy days ahead.
* * * * *
Miriam carefully matched her corners and used about twice the pins she usually did to secure the last two panels together. She positioned the fabric under the presser foot and slowly moved her toes and heels up and down, up and down, in a methodical rhythm. The needle bobbed under the edge of her quilt squares and up again, sewing an orderly row of tiny stitches. At the end of the fabric, she doubled back to tack the thread in place, carefully cut the leftover threads, and pulled out all her pins. It was finished.
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