“I know. George is going to have a fit.” But I phn to do something about the cancer problem. I wonder what it would take to rally all the women in this country or if that is even possible?
“There're Kit and Teza now.” Myrna waved as the two cars drove into the parking lot.
“Afternoon, Myrna.” Teza hugged the store owner. “I suppose you've already heard that we're shopping for a special quilt.” She smiled at Elaine. “I saw some of your pillows over at the hospital gift shop. My, but you do beautiful work.”
“Thank you.” Elaine gestured toward the bags in the backseat. “Myrna has some lovely new fabrics. I'm sure we'll be able to find what we need here.”
The women made their way back into the store and ambled down the aisle to the calico section, all of them stroking bolts of fabric as they went, stopping to comment on something that caught their eye.
“What colors do you have in mind?” Myrna snagged a shopping cart and brought it with her.
Kit turned from pulling out a bolt of fabric with a deep burgundy background. “From this to mauve, then several shades of royal blue, with creams.”
“The pattern is a variation of the starburst.” Elaine stopped at the cream section. “King size.”
“Sounds lovely. Why don't we pull all the bolts that look like possibilities and then lay them out on the cutting table. I've installed a true color light above that table so we can really see the colors.”
“What a good idea. I have one of those in my workroom now.” Teza reached up to pull down a blue bolt and flinched before she could catch herself.
“Here, let me take that.” Kit took the one bolt down and another near it. “That shoulder getting worse?”
“No, but you know how long it takes for pulled muscles to heal. I put Ben-Gay on it at night and that helps.”
“Let's take some of those watercolor prints to the table too. They go really well in a quilt.” Myrna pointed to another row of fabrics.
By the time they finished pulling bolts they had twenty on the wide cutting table, all separated according to basic color.
“How many colors do you need?” Myrna looked to Elaine.
“Kit has the design. I'm just one of the worker bees on this project.”
“Oh.” Myrna turned to Kit. “Sorry.”
Kit laid her notebook open on the table and unfolded Beth's drawing, then turned the page to her list of supplies and fabrics. “We figured ten to twelve with six of the red family, three of the blue, and three creams. But that's why we're all here, to make those kinds of decisions.”
“Okay. Then let's do the reds first.” Myrna stacked the other bolts off to the side. They laid out ten ranging from light mauve to deep burgundy.
“Take this one away, too orange.” Elaine pulled out one bolt and folded the end over before setting it back in the cart.
They debated, put two of the watercolor bolts in with the others, moved them around, pulled out two more.
“This starts with creams in the middle, right?” Myrna studied the drawing again.
“Unless we start dark and go toward the light.” Teza laid one of the cream bolts at the dark end.
“No.” Both Elaine and Kit spoke at the same time, half smiling at each other.
“I like the way you planned it here, with the light in the center, going toward the dark. Seems richer that way.”
They finally settled on seven in the red tone. After stacking them up, they laid out the blue. Only two bolts worked, since some had too much yellow or green and others red.
“True royal blue isn't easy to come by.” Teza laid another bolt in between the two they had and took it away again. “I like that solid one and this one with the small white flower in it.”
“We could use the solid one for the backing too.” Elaine fingered the folded edge of the bolt. “There's plenty here for that.”
“I thought we'd back it in the dark burgundy.” Kit tapped the bolt on the bottom of the stack. “The blue is just for accent.”
“Hmm.” Teza studied both bolts. “I don't want to be the tiebreaker. Myrna, what do you think?”
“Either one will be beautiful.” She studied the fabrics. “What about the cream while we think on that.”
With only three creams that looked good together, that was easy.
Kit looked toward her aunt and saw that eyebrow rise. Did she want to chew on shoe leather again? Not really, but the picture in her mind said a burgundy backing. The eyebrow inched upward. Kit sighed.
“You're right. The lighter blue will look lovely, and our stitching will show up well on it too.” Tem, you doritpUy fair, not at all One would think you d back your niece, your only niece for that matter.
“Good.” Myrna flipped one of the cream bolts over a couple of times so the fabric lay flat for cutting. “How much of this one do you need?”
Kit numbered each of the bolts according to where it would fit in the design and laid out the list of required yardage. “I've added extra in case someone loses or ruins their square. The worst thing would be to run out of something after all the cutting.”
“Well, if that's the last decision, I need to run.” Elaine glanced at her watch. “Amazing how time can rip by in a fabric store.”
“Thanks for your help.” Kit reminded herself to warm up the smile and tone. “We'll be cutting next Wednesday.”
“You already put the article in the paper?”
“No, Harriet did. It will run on Friday.”
“Good. I'll see you then. Oh, who's going to wash all this?”
“I will, no big deal. They can iron it at the cutting.”
“Thanks, Myrna. And you'll do the discount?”
Myrna nodded. “I planned on it anyway.”
By the time they finished cutting fabric and batting, bagged it all, and Myrna figured the discount, most of another hour had passed. Teza looked around for her fruit prints while Kit chatted with Myrna.
“This is going to be a beauty,” Myrna said more than once. “I love seeing a quilt go from idea to finished product, and this one is going to do a lot of good. You mark my words, this quilt is destined to be a real blessing, most likely more than any of us know.”
“I hope so.”
“I don't just hope so, I know so.” Myrna patted the bags. “This is a God project. The blessings will be there.”
Kit stifled a sigh and pasted on a pleasant smile. Another one like Teza. Sometimes she felt ganged up on from every side.
EIGHTEEN
“I don't want to go back there again.”
“Come on, Beth, what was so terrible about it?” Garth pushed the coffee cup on the kitchen table to the side and leaned forward.
Beth forced herself to sit quietly. After all, this was just Garth across the table, and they were in their own home. Nothing to be afraid of here. Afraid. Where had that word come from? She tried to think, but the darkness seemed to seethe around her ankles like octopus arms, the sucking cups clinging to her, dragging her down.
“What are you afraid of?”
Now you sound like the doctor. “There must be some other way.”
“Some other way to what?” He smoothed his hair back with both hands, as if needing something for his hands to do.
“To…to help me.”
“You do agree that you need help?”
Beth stared down at her hands clenched in her lap, one thumb wearing the skin off the other. “I… I guess so. If… If I could just have a baby, everything would be all right. I know it would. So why won't God give us a baby?” You know why. In all your fault. You kiüed one, and God took the other. Why should he trust you with any more? Beth squeezed her eyes shut and tangled her fingers in her hair, pulling, moaning to block out the voices in her head.
“Beth! Beth! What are you doing?” Garth came around the table and grabbed her hands. “Stop, Bethy, honey. What is happening to you?”
She watched as if from the other side of a wide chasm, seeing herself writhin
g in the chair, long mahogany hairs floating to the floor, seeing the tears run down both their faces, feeling the despair that oozed up out of the cavern and enveloped her in blackness.
When she awoke some time later, she was lying in bed, Garth stretched out beside her, sound asleep. She lifted her hands to find them wrapped in towels with duct tape bracelets holding them in place. What. what have I done? Her scalp burned and itched. She wanted to scratch it, but that was impossible with the boxing gloves on. Think, what happened? She remembered sitting at the table, remembered the frantic feeling— from what? What had they been talking about? Think, Beth, think. But nothing would come, other than a blackness that, like a black paintbrush, painted over any thoughts that made sense.
Sleeping was far easier than thinking.
When she woke again to a raging thirst and an imperative need for the bathroom, Garth was gone and her hands were still covered and taped. She swung her feet to the side of the bed and stood. A wave of dizziness almost sat her down again. But she had to go too bad to wait.
“Garth! Garth!” The croak went no farther than the bedroom door. No way could she get her slacks down with the mitts on. She staggered to the door and out into the hall. “Garth!” She screamed his name. Nothing. Where had he gone? With the pressure mounting she tore at the duct tape with her teeth, catching the edge on her right wrist and peeling the tape off bit by bit. She shook off the towel and headed for the bathroom and relief. Her anger burned bright and quick. Whatever possessed him to bind her hands like that and then just leave her? What could she possibly have done to deserve such treatment?
She stormed down the hall, through the kitchen and out the back door, sure he must be working in the garden. But only the flowers and the birds with a butterfly or two filled their backyard. Next door the children were laughing and teasing, with the sound of an adult voice nearby. In the yard on the other side of theirs, the neighbor boy played with his dog, someone else laughing at their antics. All the world had children but her. She massaged her scalp with her fingertips and stared at the hairs that came out with her hands when she stopped. “Good grief, am I losing my hair now too?”
“No, not until you pulled it out.”
She jerked around to stare over her shoulder. She clapped a hand to her heart, felt it race under her palm. What he'd said penetrated, sending her heart tripping even faster. Her breath caught in her throat. “What do you mean?”
He sat down on the step beside her. “You don't remember?”
“I remember waking up with towels taped to my hands and having to go to the bathroom so bad I nearly wet my pants, and you were nowhere around to help me. Whatever got into you?”
“Into me?” He took a breath and lowered his voice. “Beth, you were screaming and pulling your hair out.”
“Don't be ridiculous!” Garth, what are you doing? Trying to make me insane? Or am I insane? “I remember we were sitting at the table talking, and the next thing I remember is waking up in bed and my hands were in mitts, but you were sound asleep beside me, and before I could say anything, I fell back asleep. And then you were gone.”
“I covered your hands so you wouldn't hurt yourself.”
Beth kept shaking her head as he continued.
“You tore at your hair and then you fainted, fell right off the chair. I carried you to bed and was going to call the doctor, but you seemed to be just sleeping, so I waited. You slept for a couple of hours. I knew you were exhausted, so I covered your hands and took a nap too. Dr. Kaplan said that a mild tranquilizer might help, so I went down and he gave me some samples. I thought I'd be back before you woke up.”
“You're not making this up, are you?” She knew the answer by the look on his face. One thing about Garth, he never told a lie. Not even a polite one. She covered her face with her hands, ashamed to look at him. “Garth, I'm so sorry. I'm so ashamed.”
“Ashamed for what?” He put his arm around her, but she pulled away.
“The way I acted.”
“I think you are real close to a nervous breakdown, and Dr. Kaplan agrees with me. He'd like you to call him. He'll see you anytime. I think he'd even make a house call if we asked him.”
Beth could tell Garth was trying to keep this light, as if they were discussing nothing more important than what to have for dinner. She clasped her arms around her legs and laid her cheek on her knees. Nervous breakdown. They put people in mental hospitals for nervous breakdowns.
“I'll take the pills, okay? Did he say what the side effects might be?”
“Sorry, I didn't ask, but they're probably on the package.” Garth rose and returned in a minute or so with a glass of water and a capsule, taking the steps down to the lawn so he could hand them to her, all the while watching her as if afraid she might go off again.
She put the pill on her tongue and chugged down half the water, then held the glass in both hands, resting it on her knees. / never dreamed Vd be taking pilL for my sanity. Good old anti-pill Beth, look what you've come to. When he sat down beside her, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Did we have lunch?”
“Nope, you didn't have breakfast either, other than a cup of coffee. You feel up to Jose's?”
“I'd rather stay home.”
“Fine. I'll go get tacos or something. You have a preference?”
“No. Whatever you decide.” She clasped her arms around her legs again.
“You sure you'll be all right here alone?” He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she laid her cheek against it. She nodded. He bent down and whispered in her ear. “I'm glad you took that pill.”
I hope I will be. “It's not Prozac, is it?”
“No. But I don't remember the name. You can look on the box. It's in the bathroom.”
“Umm.”
After Garth left, Beth moved over to the padded lounger and set the back at half reclining. A mew from bushes beside the patio made her sit upright again. “Hey, kitty, is that you?” While the half-grown cat had seemed to establish this yard as his territory, he still hadn't let Beth pick him up. She watched the rhododendrons, and sure enough, there he came, sneaking out from the safety of the bushes. He sat on the edge of the concrete patio and began to clean himself.
“You look more like a cat now than a roughneck stray.”
He stopped licking his front paw and looked over at her as if waiting to see what she would do next. When she neither moved nor spoke, he went back to his grooming.
“You've sure been cleaning up the food.”
Lick, scrub ear, lick, wipe eyebrows, lick, back to side of face. He changed paws and started on the other side of his mottled coat. With dusk coming on, he faded into the shadows without changing his position.
“I wish, if you really are going to be our cat, that you would let us help you. And I don't mean just feed you.” Anyone who came by here would think I truly am batty, talking to myself. She let herself sink into the cushions, her eyes drifting shut. Even clasping her hands over her middle became too much like work, so they fell by her sides.
At a sudden weight on the cushion by her knees, her eyes jerked open just in time to meet the gaze of the questing cat. She smiled and closed her eyes again. She felt him turn around and settle into a circle, the heat of him warming her knee. When he began to purr, she marveled at the depth of it for such a small cat, the sound sinking her ever deeper into peace. If only she could stay like this, neither awake nor sleeping. No nightmares, no pointed looks from Garth, no one yelling in her mind. Perhaps the pills weren't so bad after all.
Beth thought about the other evening working with Kit and Teza. Such nice people. / wish I'd stayed for iced tea. Perhaps the cancer quilt will help me make new friends.
The purring vibrated against her knee. The kitten trusted her enough to sleep beside her. Perhaps she could trust Dr. Kaplan. Or Kit. Kit had lost a child too. But will she hate me if I tell her my secreti
NINETEEN
“Have I forgotten anything?”
Missy followed
at her ankles as Kit returned from one more trip to the car.
“I know you don't like to be left alone so much, but this is really important.”
Kit bent down and rubbed Missy's ears. “Now its your job to take care of the house, you know.”
A sigh answered her admonishment, a sigh that only a put-upon basset could state so emphatically. Missy lay down, her chin on the floor, since her front feet didn't extend far enough to cushion her jaw. Her gaze followed Kit from kitchen to sewing room to retrieving her purse on the entry table to checking to make sure the back door was locked.
“You be good now.” The soulful gaze from the dog on the floor followed her out the door.
“Worse than a toddler, that's what she is.” Kit tossed her purse on the passenger seat and gave herself one more moment to check her inventory before heading to the Senior Center.
She'd washed all the fabric, but it needed to be ironed before it could be cut, so her haul included an ironing board. The Senior Center had another, and Teza was bringing a third.
Kit waved at her neighbor and took a sip from the silver-and-black stainless steel coffee mug with a top to keep the contents hot for a long time. Ah, modern conveniences did make life easier at times. On the other hand, she didn't used to drink so much coffee. Her full cup was always getting cold. She hated to think how many gallons of cold coffee she had poured down the drain.
She honked and waved at Thomas riding his bike on the sidewalk. Time to invite him back for a Missy tussle.
Unloading her things at the center, Kit stacked as much as possible on the luggage cart. At least she hadn't had to drag her sewing machine along too.
Inside, she glanced around the room, assessing how to set up most efficiently.
“Good article we had,” one of the women said, waving the clipping. “Did you write it?”
“No, that was Harriet's job. There was another one in the Shopper's Weekly, too.” Several women gathered round to help set up.
The Healing Quilt Page 15