The Healing Quilt

by Lauraine Snelling

  “We also discussed the state of the current mammogram unit.” Elaine flipped to some notes in her file folder. “There are sound financial reasons not to purchase a new one, things like Medicare cutting back on the amount they pay both for the mammogram and the doctor to read them, other insurances are following suit.

  “Well, if that don't beat ail. What is our government coming to?” Harriet looked up from her reading. “If you ask me—”

  “So what that really means to us is that we are on our own as far as the board is concerned, but then that is not unusual either. Through the years, the guild has picked up the slack on many needed projects, like the isolettes we just purchased for the neonatal unit,” Elaine continued.

  Harriet didn't seem to realize she'd been interrupted.

  “Yes, the guild has done a lot for our hospital. We are grateful for the work they do.” Sue poured herself another cup of coffee.

  “That is well and good,” Teza said, “but lets talk about the project at hand. Who knows what kind of good God is going to bring of this.” Teza looked at Kit in time to catch a flash of disagreement. Just you wait, my dear. God has some real surprises in store for you.

  “Thank you, Elaine, Teza. So, are we all in agreement that this is a project that is needed and that we'd like to do?” Kit reached down to the pile of pattern books at her feet while watching for nods. “Good. I marked some patterns I thought might be really lovely, and we're open for suggestions from all the group. I think once we've decided on a pattern and the colors, then I'll get an article in the paper so we can have a cutting day, opening it up for anyone who wants to take home blocks to stitch.”

  “Are we going to do this by hand or machine?” Sue asked.

  Kit looked around the group again. “I think machine stitch the blocks and the top, then hand quilt it. We also have to decide on size, king or queen. What do all of you think?”

  “I'd think king, then if someone had a smaller bed, it could hang down like a bedspread.” Elaine flipped pages in the book she'd picked up. “You do understand that the quilt would be more valuable if it is hand stitched?”

  “Anyone else?”

  The others shook their heads and continued searching for patterns.

  As the books were passed around, the women discussed different designs. Sue brought some pieced blocks out of her basket as examples, too, and Teza shared one with a star motif.

  “So we agree then on the Starburst pattern?” Kit finally asked, holding up the book to the correct page.

  “I think it would be lovely, and in shades of burgundy to rose to cream with that touch of blue, my, I would want to buy it myself.” Harriet stroked one of the squares, pointing to a dark royal blue in the pattern. “I don't know how I can commit to all the quilting, though. My Leslie's going to have her baby about the time we'd be ready to set up the quilting frame.”

  “No problem. I think getting the squares done will be the major part.” Kit studied the design they'd agreed upon.

  “Good, but I have another question.” Harriet shook her finger. “Who's going to head up this thing? You? Teza? You're both busier than a one-armed paper hanger.”

  “And who's going to pay for the supplies? We can't just piece this with leftovers. It has to be a work of art.” Sue set her coffee cup back on the tray.

  Kit looked around the group. “Any suggestions?”

  “We could ask for donations,” Beth offered. “I'd be willing to take charge ofthat part.”

  “Why, thank you, dear.” Teza leaned forward and patted Beth's arm. “Good of you to volunteer.”

  “As far as the leader, Teza, you are the best quilter and designer in four counties,” Harriet said.

  “Or the entire state of Washington,” Sue added.

  Teza shook her head. “Come now. I…” God, help me. How can I take on anything else right now?

  “You are.” Kit spoke with the kind of conviction that set everyone to nodding. “But I was kind of hoping we could do this by committee.”

  Sue groaned and flopped back in her chair. “You know what they say about committees. That's what created the camel.”

  The others chuckled, glancing at one another and chuckling again.

  “But think, if we each take responsibility for one part…” Beth added.

  “Of course we can do that, but you still need someone in charge to oversee and make sure things are rolling along.”

  “Are you volunteering?” Harriet, sitting on the glider with Sue, gave her an elbow nudge.

  “Nope. Ill take charge of getting all the supplies there the day we cut, but I don't want to head it up. Means I'd have to talk in front of a group, and I'd rather die than do that. Fact is, if I stood up there, I'd most likely keel right over.” Sue looked down at the floor as if expecting to see herself there.

  “I just cannot take on another new project before the farm is put to bed in the fall.” Teza looked to Kit. “But you know I'll do whatever I can.

  Kit squirmed in her chair. “Don't you all go looking at me. I…” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, at the same time chewing on the inside of her lip. Her sigh was one of resignation. I was really hoping Teza would offer. She's the best. “Just remember, if I oversee, you get to do all the work.”

  “Spoken like a true bird colonel,” Elaine said under her breath.

  A round of chuckles fluttered the leaves of the wisteria. A house finch flew to her nest at the opposite end of the porch. Missy whined at the screen door.

  “Okay, if Sue is in charge of cutting day, who will be responsible to make sure all the squares are done in time? I'd thought we should have it ready by October, which seems far away now, but time will go mighty fast.”

  “Do we have to have it ready for October? I mean, I know that's breast cancer awareness month, but what if we kicked this drive off in February or late January? Isn't that more realistic?” Sue counted the months off on her fingers. “That gives us less than three months to finish it, and that doesn't leave any time to display the finished quilt and build up an interest.”

  Kit nodded. “You're right. Unless we did it for next October.

  “Why wait that long? I'll contact some of the other women's organizations in town and see what they can do to help us promote this.” Elaine wrote herself a note on her calendar. “And I know the hospital guild will be excited about this too.”

  Kit nodded again. “So we are in agreement then on the pattern, and you'll trust Teza and me to do the designing and buying the fabric?”

  “I'll be happy to help with that too.” Elaine looked over her half glasses at Beth. “I'm sure Myrna would let me use my discount at her fabric store for this.”

  “And I'll make sure we get enough donations to pay you back,” Beth added.

  Teza rotated her shoulder. Reaching for the cherries must have aggravated that muscle even more. She caught Kit looking at her and shrugged. “Just a bit sore from picking cherries this morning. Thank you, Kit, for the delicious cake. That pound cake recipe is about perfect.”

  “Should be, I got it from you.”

  “And I got it from my mother who got it from her mother.

  “Don't you love family heirlooms like that?” Sue picked up her basket and got to her feet. “Here, I brought you a slip of my geranium that you so admired. This ones been in my family for generations too.”

  “That the one that blooms all winter long in your upstairs window?” Kit held out her hand with a smile.

  “You want a slip too?” At Harriets nod, Sue said, “Come on over right now and I'll get you one. I rooted this one for Kit, but you can get that thing to grow just by putting a slip in water.”

  Teza and Kit watched the others make their laughing way down the walk, waving good-bye and stopping to admire a spectacular rose bloom on the way. “You did fine, dear, even though you kind of got railroaded there at the end.”

  “That's the problem with having a good idea—you usually get appointed to be the one to ma
ke it work.” Kit let Missy out and began to clean up.

  “I think, if youd want, Elaine would gladly take over.”

  “Most likely. I get the feeling she likes to run things. But she didn't volunteer and I don't know her well enough to ask her. Do you?” Teza chuckled and gave a slight shrug.

  “Now, we have to discuss your mammogram. I got a letter from the traveling van that they had to pull it out of service for a time. I think we should go on up to Seattle to Virginia Mason. That's about the best hospital in the area.”

  “What a waste of time and effort. There's a perfectly fine hospital in Olympia and another in Tacoma. I can't take an entire day off right now, and you know it. Besides, this is all a tempest in a teapot.”

  “Teza, Marcy said that's what she thinks you should do, and she would know. Surely it's better not to take a chance. I want you around to see my grandchildren, you know. They need an Aunt Teza, just like I did.”

  “Mercy sakes, a couple of more months won't make any difference. I feel fine.”

  Kit stared at her, arms crossed, one foot tapping.

  “This is a preventive measure, you know. The doctor seems to think our machine here is all right.”

  More tapping. Kit's eyebrows drew closer together.

  “Oh, all right. Make the stupid appointment for when it is convenient for you. Just make sure you give me two weeks’ warning. They probably won't have an opening until September anyway.”

  “I know, and then the apples will be ready, but we'll be going before then. Mark my words, if I have to bribe the receptionist.”

  “You'll need a referral.”

  “I'll get the referral.” Kit softened her tone, adding a touch of wheedle. “We could stop at Pacific Fabrics in Puyallup and look at their fabrics.”

  “Kit Cooper, you could nag a saint to death.” Teza marched down the steps. “If I didn't love you so much, I could get real ticked off at your butting in, you know.”

  “I'll call and let you know as soon as I find out something. You want me to come out and pick cherries this afternoon?”

  “Suit yourself.” Teza ignored the butterflies sipping at the roses and the perfume that assailed her nose. Pesky, interfering woman, she knows things like this should be left for winter when I have more time.

  FOURTEEN

  “I think she's really mad at me.”

  Missy whimpered at Kit's feet.

  “No, I'm not talking about you, girl, or even to you, but Teza is in a snit. And I don't know how to handle it, really. Ignore her? Apologize? Why, when I am doing it for her own good? Tough as she is, I know it's not the pain of the mammogram but purely that she'd rather spend her time doing other things.”

  Missy bumped against Kit, a more determined tone in her voice also.

  “Okay, okay, I get the picture.” Kit leaned over and stroked the dog, rubbing her ears the way Missy liked. Kit moved over to the chair and sat down, the easier to pay attention to the dog, and continued thinking about her aunt. Something bothered her, but she couldn't quite get hold of it. Teza looked tan, or at least what Washingtonians thought of as tan, from her work in the yard, her voice had sounded the same as always; was it that she'd gotten testy over the mammogram thing? That wasn't like Teza. Kit closed her eyes, the better to see her aunt. Light bulb! Had Teza lost weight?

  The ringing phone drew her to her feet. Better get to drawing up a list of supplies for the quilt project and computing how much fabric to buy. One thing they hadn't done as a group was set up a timetable, but with a goal of a winter auction, that wouldn't be as difficult. Ha, as if finishing the quilt by October wasnt stress enough. She caught the phone just as the answering machine kicked in.

  “Hello. Sorry, can you wait until that thing runs through?” When the line clicked clear, she heard Ryan's voice.

  “Mom, why don't you learn how to turn that recording off?”

  Why didntyou learn to clean your room? “Most likely because I dont know where the instruction book is. How are you?”

  “Fine, and so is school. How come no one warned me summer could be hot over here?”

  “You think all the wheat fields would have been a clue?”

  “Mom, since when do I know zip about wheat fields?”

  “Sorry for the hole in your education. What's up?” It wasn't like Ryan to call during the day, on a weekday.

  “You talked to Dad lately?”

  How do you define lately? Within the last three months, then yes. Within the last seven days, then no. She allowed a noncommittal “urn” to fill in the gap. “Why?” Always safer to answer a question with a question.

  “Because I had the weirdest call from him last night.”

  “Oh?” She stretched the simple word into a question.

  “Is there something wrong between the two of you?”

  The question she'd been dreading for several months now. “What makes you ask?” Kit took refuge in another question while she struggled to come up with a workable answer.

  “I think he'd been drinking. He apologized for not being a better father and for letting us all down.”

  Oh, Mark, what is happening with you? “I see.” No I dont. What a lie. Good grief, I dont want to deal with stuff like this over the phone. And here, the morning had been going so well. Why, I havent even cried once. Or felt like it—until now.

  “Ryan, I think your father is struggling with…with… ” Do I call it a midlife crisis? Or grief that he doesnt want to admit? Or, a thought beyond bearing, is there someone ehe in his life? Was that what he was referring to by the “letting us down?

  “Mom?”

  “I'm here. Just trying to puzzle this out. Maybe you should call him back and just talk with him. Perhaps that would be best.” I dont want to be in the middle, not anymore, I've been there, done that, and I refuse to do it again.

  “I would, but he didn't give me his phone number. That's one of the reasons I called you.”

  Kit now understood what people meant when they said their hearts dropped to their shoes. Gotcha, an evil little voice snickered.

  “Mother?”

  “I always call his cell phone, since he's had to move around so much lately. Or you could send him an e-mail.” She flipped through pages in her address book until she found the number. “You have the number?”

  “Yeah, I just found it. Why do I get the feeling there is something going on here that you don't want me to know about?”

  Funny you should ask. “All families go through a difficult period after a child dies, Ryan, and we're no exception. Give it time. Things will work out.”

  She could hear doubt in his silence. “So you're still planning on coming home between semesters?”

  “Yes, I'll see you in a few weeks. I'm thinking of taking the train home unless I find someone to ride with.”

  “Good.” After a bit more discussion, she hung up and leaned her head against the cabinet. If only she could pray. But why pray to a God who says he will be there for you, then snatches your daughter away? If Teza knew how far from faith she had drifted, she'd be on her knees night and day.

  Kit poured herself another cup of cold coffee and popped it in the microwave. So much to do and so little will to do anything. She forced herself to put the dessert things in the dishwasher, wiped down the counters, and stared into the freezer to see what she should take out for dinner. It was about time to cook a big pot of something so she could eat leftovers and put a couple of baggies of the same in the freezer. Thinking along those lines, she took out hamburger and set it in the sink. Goulash sounded about as good as anything. If she hadn't promised Teza she would fix at least one meal a day, she'd most likely live on peanut butter and popcorn. Not combined, of course.

  What had Mark said to cause Ryan such consternation? And, the big question, was his call liquor induced? Had all of this driven him to drink?

  “Oh, Mark, come home where you are safe.” Were supposed to be holding each other up and drawing closer because of our ad
versity. That's what the book she'd been reading said. What a crock. If that is what happened in real life, where was he? Or were they going to become a statistic? The book also said 80 percent of marriages dissolved after a son or daughter died or experienced a life-threatening illness.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it!” She slammed her hand down on the counter, making Missy jump and look up, accusations wrinkling her already wrinkled face.

  “Sorry, girl, but there must be something I can do. If I had an address, I'd send a card or a letter. I can do e-mail, that's for sure.” She thought of the computer that got used for downloading sewing and craft things from the Internet. But if he wanted to keep in contact, wouldn't he have been e-mailing me?

  So when did you check last?

  To shut off the accusing voice, she climbed the stairs to the home office and turned on the computer. All the family knew how seldom she logged on, especially in the summer. Two or three times a week—max.

  While she waited for the computer to boot up, she straightened papers, filing some of the mail and putting the bills in the drawer to be paid. Another one of those things that Mark used to do. At least he had electronic deposit with his paycheck, so she didn't have to worry about money.

  Missy laid her chin on Kit's shoe and heaved a sigh.

  “You're feeling left out too? Well, join the club.” Kit sniffed back the tears that attacked without warning or provocation.

  After logging on, she waited again, idly scanning the subject lines as the e-mail downloaded. A joke from someone, two spams, a message from Jennifer and none from Mark. She read the joke, a poor one that she deleted instantly, ditto for the spams, and called up Jennifer's note.

  Her questions echoed Ryan's. What is going on with Dad? Are you all right? The job was going fine, but she missed the Northwest. Did Kit have any idea how hot and humid Texas could be?

  “That's one reason we live here, Jen,” Kit mumbled. “I hate humidity and melt in prolonged heat.” She clicked the reply icon and told Jennifer the same as she had Ryan. “Talk to your father yourself.” She mentioned the quilt project and deleted mention of Thomas.