The Healing Quilt

by Lauraine Snelling

  “What do you like to do now?”

  “Read, sew, decorate our house…We don't have a piano so…so I play at the guitar sometimes. I usually like to entertain but…” But I can't invite people over now. I dont know anyone and I just dont have the energy.

  “This move was hard on you.”

  “I had to leave my baby behind.”

  “The one that died prematurely?”

  “Yes.” And the other one, too, but I left that one a long time ago.

  “Depression isn't unusual after losing a baby.”

  “But I should just get over it and get on with my life, right?” The venom in her voice shocked even her.

  “I didn't say that.”

  “No, but you…”

  “But I what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Have you kept a journal?”

  “No, I started a baby book but…” She shook her head again, then tucked the right side of her hair behind her ear. “I didnt have any more to add, so I put it away.”

  “I suggest you start a journal for yourself this time and just write down whatever comes to you. You might be amazed at what you learn. Will you do that?”

  “I'll see.”

  “Does that mean you'll think about it or you're just brushing me off?”

  She could feel a smile tug gently at the corner of her mouth. “I'll think about it.”

  “Good.” He pulled out the side drawer of his desk and laid his prescription pad on it. After writing on it, he passed it over to her. “I'd like you to continue taking these for the next week, one half an hour or so before bedtime, as you've been doing. And then come back so we can talk some more. If you will.”

  Beth stared at the birds outside. “All right.” She took the paper and stood. “Thank you.” I guess.

  “I have something else for you.” He handed her a card from a little basket on his desk. Business card size, it looked rather innocuous.

  Beth glanced from the printing on it to his face.

  “It's a verse I use to get me through things that seem beyond my ability. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’ ”

  She started to shake her head but put the card in her pocket. If he only knew what she had to get through.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Who would be calling this early? Elaine reached for the phone. “Hello.”

  “Good morning, Elaine. I needed to reach you before I went into court.”

  “Good morning to you, too. I have a feeling this is not good news.” Since when did attorneys call early or late without it being bad news?

  “This is more in the way of a pain in the neck.

  “Ah, delightfol Mrs. Smyth.”

  “You got it. As you know, she went ahead with her threat and filed a case. Her regular lawyer turned it down, but she found someone else who is pursuing this like it was his ticket to the big time.”

  “And your advice?” Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?

  “I'd say settle and get her off your back but.

  Elaine didn't hear the but. “Settle? No way! That woman won't be satisfied until she owns our house, Georges practice, and our retirement.”

  “Elaine, calm down.” His chuckle broke through her diatribe. “I know what she is after, and people like her keep many lawyers in business.”

  “Along with cluttering up our court system.”

  “That too, but here's what I propose we do. Her insurance covered the damages, and yours declined that, right?”

  “Yes. They think she's full of hot air, too. I've thought of buying her out, but that place would need some major work to make it saleable, and she'd charge me an arm and both legs.”

  “Might not be a bad idea, considering the stress she adds to your life, but that's not what I was going to say. I'm suggesting either mediation or binding arbitration. Either way, she has to accept the ruling. I'm sure they will see right through her verbosity and can'tankerous-ness. Or there is always Judge Judy. She loves stuff like this. You talk it over with George and get back to me.”

  Elaine hung up the phone still chuckling. Wait until George and Ramsey hear this one.

  She looked down at the little dog on her lap. “Maybe I should just sic you after that mangy beast of hers. Think you could take a chunk out of Bootsie?” She cuddled Bug to her chest and kissed his soft ears, crooning love to him at the same time.

  Doodlebug kissed her ear and closed his big eyes in bliss. This was the way a morning was supposed to be spent. After all, what was more important in life's scheme of things than cuddling the dog? Keeping him from slipping off her lap with one hand, she pulled out the file drawer and retrieved her work on the grant proposal and her outline for the dream. She checked her watch. An hour and a half until the board meeting, then the regular meeting following the lunch. Getting the guild board behind her would be the first step.

  “Sorry, Bug, but you need to go get in your bed.” She set him on the floor and tried to ignore the sorrow in his eyes, the look of abused dog he assumed at will, tail dragging, ears down. She'd swear he was going to cry big tears at any second.

  “Good dog.”

  He slunk up in his new bed with the arched half cover and lined with half of his favorite soft blanket. Turning around once, he gave her another soulful look, this one accompanied by a deep and heart-wrenchingly sad sigh.

  “Doodlebug, you are the biggest ham I've ever seen.” She shook her head and started reading, making notes on a clipboard as she went along. She knew one reason she'd managed to obtain so many grants over the years. She made sure all the details were covered. Research and details; money was out there if one knew how to go find it.

  Finding the money in Jefferson City would be the job of those in the guild. They knew who had deep pockets and could figure out how to convince those folks to part with some of their largess.

  Winston Henry Jefferson IV was at the top of her list. If she could convince him that her dream was his dream…hmm. She flipped through her Rolodex, stopped at his business card, read it, thought a moment, and dialed.

  “Hello, this is Elaine Giovanni and I'd like to speak to Mr. Jefferson please.”

  “Ill see if he's available.”

  You bet your sweet Marianne he is. There were advantages sometimes in being the wife of the head of surgery. While she didn't call in her markers very often, when she did they were effective.

  “Good morning, Elaine. How are you?”

  “Good, good. I have a favor to ask if you don't mind.”

  “Ask away and I'll do what I can.”

  She could picture him leaning back in his cordovan leather chair, his feet up on the walnut desk that had belonged to his great-grandfather, like most of the other lovely antiques in his office and home.

  “Are you available for lunch tomorrow, or another day this week? I have some ideas that I think you might be interested in.”

  “Tomorrow would be fine if we could make it at one.”

  “Good, how about Joseph's?”

  “My favorite. I'll see you then.”

  I knew it was your favorite. You'Vesaidso often enough. “Thank you.”

  She hung up and wrote herself a note in her organizer. George was after her to use a Palm Pilot or handheld PC, but she held out on that.

  She quickly typed an outline for the board meeting, ran off ten copies, and put them in a file folder that joined the file folders already in her briefcase.

  “Ladies, can we come to order?” She waited in the conference room, looking around the board table at the hospital. “And please have your reports ready. We need to deal with plenty of business today.”

  The chatter settled down, along with the shuffling of paper.

  “Good. I call the August meeting of the Jefferson City Hospital Guild board meeting to order. Will you please read the minutes of the last meeting?” She nodded to the secretary.

  One by one she ticked down the items on her outline. Treasurers report, comm
ittee reports, and old business, in which they wrapped up details related to the isolettes and the festival booth. When she announced new business, a hand went up.

  “I think we need to discuss all that's already happened for the quilt event. I know that officially we aren't even a part of it yet, but there is plenty of excitement going around.”

  Elaine paused for a moment. “To remain within Roberts Rules of Order, I believe we need a motion first, signifying our intent.”

  The first woman who spoke rolled her eyes. “Okay, Madame Parliamentarian, I move that The Jefferson City Hospital Guild take an active part in the movement to purchase a new mammogram unit for the hospital, er, The Jefferson Memorial Hospital.”

  “I second it.”

  “All in favor.” Elaine paused for a moment. “All in favor, say aye.” A murmur rippled through the room. “The ayes have it.”

  “Now can we discuss it?” Silver-haired Sandy Stenerson looked Nordic enough to be a Viking queen. “Good. Let's each compile a list of anyone we think might be willing to donate. I know there will be more at the meeting later. And I volunteer to chair this part.”

  “Good. Thank you. Ladies, please pass your lists to Sandy. Make sure you have contact names and phone numbers, along with a good description of the donation.”

  “And tell them if they give us a picture of themselves and their donation, we will use it in the promotional material,” Sandy added.

  Elaine gave them all the particulars the quilt group had decided as to dates, place, and other activities. “Andy will take care of the golf tournament, Rhonda Pettinger will head up the 10K run/walk, but all of us can help by running or walking it ourselves and obtaining sponsors or sponsor someone else. Since we have until April, the possibilities are endless.”

  “You mentioned a cook-off?”

  “Either that or offer an area where chefs, restaurants, and such can showcase their specialties.”

  “Or both? A cook-off in the afternoon and the showcase that night? I mean, if we re going to do this, we might as well go all the way.” At their nods, another woman continued. “I think we should ask Mary and Peter Mangini to head that up. Since he retired, he's been a bit at loose ends, and a project like this would be perfect.”

  “You mean both the cook-off and the showcase?”

  “No, the showcase. He knows every chef from Portland to BC and east to the Mississippi. Well, maybe not all of them but.

  “The other thing, if we get official sponsors for each event, they would pay for the out-of-pocket expenses.”

  Elaine glanced at her watch. “I have one other thing that I'd like to bring up before we adjourn. While it's not something we can do immediately…”

  The group settled back down and all looked toward her.

  “You know that old saw, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade?” Nods greeted her comment. “Well, I believe that's what we need to do here in Jefferson City.” She paused, watching their faces, most of which looked confused. “I'm speaking of the high incidence of cancer in our area, specifically breast cancer.”

  “But is it proven we have a higher rate of cancer, or is it really the fault of late detection due to that dinosaur of a mammogram unit?”

  “No, the rate is indeed higher here. Many experts think it's caused by the high-voltage transmission lines.”

  “Are there any statistics for before the power lines went in? That's only been in the last twenty years.”

  “Good question. I didn't search back that far, but I'm sure someone has if we can just find the source.”

  “Let me look into that.” The woman on her right wrote herself a note.

  Ah, good, they are buying into this. Elaine pulled another paper out of her stack. “I believe our lemonade should come in the form of a specialized cancer center here in Jefferson City.” Another pause, this one pregnant by anyone's standards. “We can start out with breast cancer, and perhaps leave that as our focus, but the field for women's medicine is wide open for expansion. We have a good hospital, and we can attract specialists and become a satellite med school with oncology as our focus. We live in a beautiful region conducive to healing and could possibly encourage alternate forms of treatment so that everyone who came here would have the benefit of cutting-edge research regarding cancer treatment.”

  Comments from the group bombarded her.

  “Lady, when you start to dreaming, you sure do go for the top.”

  “And here I thought a new mammogram unit was most likely beyond possible.”

  “You wouldn't be mentioning this dream of yours if you hadn't done some more homework.”

  “True.” Elaine smiled and nodded at the same time. “I've started proposals for grants to help with the mammogram unit.”

  Elaine checked her watch and banged the gavel. “Ladies, time to adjourn so we are not late for lunch. We can continue the discussion into the general meeting.” Where I hope we'll be getting lots more ideas and volunteers,

  A hand went up at the end of the table. “What if the quilters don't want our help?”

  “Oh, we're already helping; this will just make it official. I know Kit Cooper well enough to know shell be overjoyed. When she introduced the quilt idea, she said she hoped the women of Jefferson City would work together to make this happen. And that's exactly what we are talking about.”

  Elaine gathered her papers together, making sure things were in order for the afternoon meeting, and followed the others out of the room. As usual, lunch would be in the meeting room at Miss Mary's Tea House, one street over and one block down. Elaine used her cell phone and, after checking for the number in her address file, dialed Kit's number. The answering machine picked up. She left a message and followed the others over to lunch.

  By the time the meeting ended, they had committees in place, and the women left sparkling with enthusiasm.

  Elaine tried Kit again and hung up when the answering machine clicked on.

  On her way home she swung by the dry cleaners to pick up George's shirts and stopped at the antique store to check out the latest needlework and linens she'd heard about. Antique lace, doilies, and trims were all things she incorporated into her pillows, so she was constantly on the prowl to add to her stash.

  “I picked these up with you in mind.” Celine brought some pieces out of the back room and laid them on the counter. “I don't put them out until I've shown you.”

  “Thank you.” Since I buy enough to keep you in business, I should hope so. Elaine flipped through a cutwork tablecloth and napkin set. She could cut around the stains if she couldn't remove them. She also looked through some tablecloths from the fifties, a stack of doilies, and odds and ends of lace.

  “I found you another hatpin, too.” Celine laid a hatpin trimmed in jets, the black beads catching the light. “Exquisite, isn't it?”

  Knowing that if she showed her pleasure, the piece would double in price, Elaine searched for a flaw to comment on. Finding none, she agreed and turned back to the linens.

  “I'll take these then.”

  “What about the hatpin?”

  “Oh, that's right. You said you wanted $25?” She named a price half of the original offer.

  “No, I said it was $49.50.”

  Elaine cupped her elbow in the opposite hand and tapped a forefinger on her chin. “Will you take $35, since I am buying all these?”

  “Elaine Giovanni, you will be the end of me yet. How can I stay in business and furnish you with all these lovely assets to your pillows when every time I show you something, you haggle about the price?”

  Elaine shrugged, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You know you love it just as much as I do, and in the end, we both come out with a good deal.” She handed over her credit card and waited while Celine rang up the sale and packaged the goods, making sure to double-wrap the hatpin. “Call me when you have more.”

  “I will.”

  “I'm especially looking for more cutwork, so if you see any.

&nb
sp; “Have you gone on the Internet?”

  “Not really. You having much luck there?”

  Celine waggled her hand in the universal win some, lose some sign.

  “As I said, if you find any, let me know.” Elaine left the shop and, after placing her purchases in the trunk, drove on home.

  Doodlebug met her at the door, yapping his pleasure at her return or scolding her for being gone so long, she wasn't sure which.

  “Easy, Bug, let me put these things down and then…” She turned at the fast clicking of his nails on the tile just in time to see the end of his tail going out the door. “Doodlebug, get back in here this instant!” She dropped her briefcase and packages on the chair by the entry table and headed back out the door.

  Ferocious growling and snorting doubled her pace. “Doodlebug!” She paused on the brick steps just long enough to glance to the right and see Doodlebug snapping and snarling at Bootsie, who had come to deposit his daily offering on their side lawn. Bootsie lunged at Doodlebug, but he leaped sideways and grabbed a chunk of Bootsie's jowl in the process. The bulldog set up a howl as though he'd been mortally wounded and headed for home, but not before Elaine could see blood staining the dog's white coat.

  “Bug, get over here.” Sure that Doodlebug had been injured, Elaine ran to where the little dog was kicking grass with his hind feet and barking the bigger dog away.

  Elaine snatched him up and checked for injuries. “Doodlebug, what have you done?”

  “Grrrrrrrr.” The growl continued as Bug warned off his long-gone adversary.

  “We're in trouble for sure now.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  “I no more feel like having the quilters here than running a marathon.”

  Missy followed Kit from the living room to the kitchen, to the bathroom to freshen up, to the garage to dump in a load of laundry, to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, and back to the living room to dust.

  “Dog, just go lie down.”

  Missy's tail drooped.

  “I'm sorry, girl. Taking my bad mood out on you isn't going to help a bit.” Kit bent down to rub the long catkin-soft ears and stroke down the dog's back. “Okay, now I have to get back to getting ready whether I want to or not. Feel like laying bets with me that Teza will call and say she is just too busy to come? Then I shall be in a real uproar, you just watch.”