The Healing Quilt

by Lauraine Snelling

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  “I can't believe you would do such a thing.”

  Beth stood in the arch to the living room and stared at her husband. His clothes from the day before were rumpled, his face unshaven, his hair in pillow-tossed spikes. But his eyes—Beth knew they would haunt her. Desolate, dark, as though anger had come and gone, leaving ashes in its wake. But, Lord, I have to hang on to you. I am forgiven—-you said so. Please, speak to Garth, heal his wounded heart.

  “Me, either.” But that was then and now is now. “Can I fix you breakfast?” You didnt eat dinner, and nothing around here shows you've even snacked.

  He shook his head. “Think I'll go for a run.”

  “Did you sleep?”

  He halfway shrugged. “I was searching.” He nodded toward his Bible. “God says I have to forgive you, but right now, Beth, I can't. You lived a lie all these years. Do I even know who you are?”

  She almost said, “I'm no different,” but she couldn't. For she was different. Inside, she knew freedom, for the first time in twelve years. It bubbled up like a clear mountain stream from under a storm-hewn rock. Water, life-giving water. The living water that washed her clean.

  Garth had not started the coffee maker, had not had a glass of juice, nor eaten one of the cinnamon rolls she'd made the day before. She got out the filter, measured the grounds, and poured in the water. With each action, a prayer for Garth rose with the fragrance. She wiped down the counters, set his place at the table, and warmed a cinnamon roll in the microwave. When the coffee maker beeped, she took her roll and coffee mug outside on the back deck.

  Dew coated the chairs and lounger. The cushions had been left out overnight. The cat jumped up on the deck and walked over to the dish, his tail straight in the air. He sniffed it, sat down, and looked at her as if to say, “Come on, get with the program. I'm hungry.”

  “You before me, right?”

  A mew answered her question. The cat yawned, barbed pink tongue curling between white teeth.

  When she poured the kibbles into his dish, he crouched down, tail wrapped around his body as he crunched away. Beth flipped the cushion over on the lounger and moved her plate and mug from the round glass-topped table to the low one where a pot of bronze and gold marigolds bloomed. Another one of the little things Garth did to show his love, put pots of flowers where she could enjoy them. Could he…? Would he…? She sat down and swung her legs up on the lounger. When she tried to think what she would do if Garth couldn't forgive her, the thoughts wouldn't come, only peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. Peace, such a precious gift. She sipped her coffee and nibbled the edge of her roll. When the cat finished his meal, he strolled over, leaped up on the lounger and, sitting by her knees, began his morning ablutions. Lick the paw, scrub the face and ears. Lick the chest, go to the other paw for the other side of face and ears.

  Slowly, afraid if she moved too fast, she reached out a finger and rubbed his head. When he stood and arched his back, she obliged and stroked his back. A purr rumbled in his throat and burst into fullblown kitty contentment. With two white front paws he kneaded her thigh, then hopped up in her lap to curl up and continued purring, his motor causing her and the entire lounger to vibrate.

  Trust. She'd finally earned his trust.

  Garth, freshly showered and shaved, poked his head out the door. “I have a meeting at church, but I'd appreciate it if you were here when I returned. Should be back in an hour or so.”

  “Okay.”

  “The cats in your lap.”

  “I know.” Beth smiled at her husband. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

  Beth stayed where she was, praying and listening. Praying for the right words to say to him, listening for what God had to say to her. His love songs flowed liquid joy like the Song Sparrows aria. One song pleased her ears. The other watered her heart so long dry and near parched to death.

  Her eyes closed and she slept.

  “Beth.” Garth touched her shoulder. “I'm home.”

  “Oh, Garth, I had the most wonderful dream.” She paused. “At least I think it was a dream.”

  “What?”

  “I felt like I was being rocked in mighty arms, stronger than anything I've ever known, but so gentle, even more gentle than my mother's. I looked down to see a baby in my arms, a newborn so red of face but sleeping with long eyelashes on round cheeks. A fuzz of red crowned her perfect little head, two tiny fists, one by a cheek, the other under the dimpled chin. And is she mine?’ I asked. A deep voice rumbled in my ear, ‘No, mine, but safe from further harm.’ I dared to ask, ‘My first?’ My heart was about to leap out of my chest.” Beth put her hand to her ear. “Like I heard him through his chest, he said, ‘That one, I love with an eternal love, like I love you.’ ‘And will you trust me again?’ I asked. I felt a rumble in his mighty chest, and suddenly I was back in the lounger. And the cat was purring. And, Garth, it was so real.”

  “I'm glad. Beth, I think I need you to tell me the whole story.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I'm sure.” He rubbed his forehead. When she finished, he leaned back in the chair he'd moved to during her telling and closed his eyes. “I have to believe you had no idea what you were really doing.

  “Garth, I can remember the terror. I was frightened out of my mind. I think of all the ? should haves’, and I go crazy.”

  “Like you have been lately?”

  “Yes. But no longer. I know Jesus forgave me. I believe it now.”

  “As do 1.1 fought and wrestled with the Lord all night. I know how Jacob felt, and I know I must forgive you or be in direct opposition to God myself, where I really don't want to be. I want to be in his perfect will. But I tell you, I've never struggled with anything so hard in my entire life.”

  “I love you, Garth Donnelly.”

  “And I you. No more secrets, okay?”

  “Right.” A thought hit her so hard she blinked. “Uh, there is one more thing.”

  Garth stopped in his reaching for her and sat back in his chair. “What?”

  “I, uh, I've been talking with the quilters about starting a sewing business so that I could help with the money coming in. It may not be much, but you know how I love to sew, and, well, who knows if it will do anything or not. Do you mind?”

  “When were you planning on telling me about it?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “When I knew more about what I had to do.”

  “Beth, I don't mind if you start a business like this, but no more secrets. If either of us has an idea, we talk it over, up front not later.”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “You're sure there's nothing else?” When she shook her head, he stood and reached for her hand. “Good. Let's see if we can do some serious damage to those cinnamon rolls.”

  “Anybody heard from Beth?” Teza asked.

  Sue and Kit shook their heads. “No news is good news? If she needed something, she would call, right?”

  “Or else she's in such deep depression she can't call.” Sue laid out her needle case and sat down to begin threading. “How are you doing, Teza?”

  “Fair to middling. I'd be home working, but Kit there said I was needed more here today.”

  “Knock, knock.” Elsie Mae pushed open the door with a canvas-covered cooler swinging from one arm and her bag on the other. “I brought lunch.”

  “Do you need refrigerator space?”

  “No, this will stay cold that long. Ill just set it in the kitchen.”

  “I could have helped you, you know, if you'd waited only a moment more.” Elaine breezed in behind Elsie Mae. “Anyone heard from our child bride?”

  “If she doesn't show up pretty soon, I'm calling over there to check.” Kit set a plate of cookies on the coffee table. “Coffee's ready if anyone wants some. Tea's in the fridge.”

  “How come you two are back already? Or didn't you have radiation?” Elaine directed her question toward Teza.

  “I have an earlier
time now. We go at eight instead of nine-thirty.”

  “That gives you even less time at home in the morning.”

  “I know. Thank God for Ryan and Vinnie. They've been selling peaches like crazy, and the Gravenstien apples are especially good this year. I have a box out in the kitchen for you to all help yourselves.”

  About the time they all got sat down, Beth burst in the door. “Sorry I'm late, I overslept.” She stopped and looked around the group. “What's wrong, is my dress inside out or something? My makeup smeared?”

  “Were just makin sure you are still in one piece, darlin. You know you left here in a real hurry.”

  “Well, all through Monday night when Garth never came to bed or spoke to me or anything, I wasn't sure what was going to happen, but Tuesday morning we talked it out, and he said he forgives me.” She sagged against a chair. “What a relief.”

  “You notice anything different about her?” Elaine asked.

  “I do.” Teza held out a hand for Beth to take. “She was pretty before, but now she is radiantly beautiful.”

  “That's for sure.” Sue patted Beth's arm. “She's wearing the look of love.”

  Beth's cheeks turned a bright pink. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Well, I wasn't talking about that kind of love, but we'll take whatever kind we can get.”

  When the laughter receded, Beth fanned her face. “Teach me to come late.” She took out her needles, already threaded, then clasped her hands on the quilt frame. “I just want to thank all of you for being the kind of friends who…who…” She took in a deep breath and started again, her voice cracking. “Who knew how to be there to help me through this. Whoever dreamed that working on a quilt would change my whole life?”

  “Perhaps we should quit thinking of this as the cancer quilt and call it the healing quilt instead.” Sue smiled at Beth across the frame. “Who knows what else will happen?”

  “I know something that will happen.” Elaine stuck her needle in the quilt. “Ladies, on three. One, two, three.” All but Teza reached down in their bags, pulled out a hat, and put it on. “Teza Dennison, in honor of your presence, we call this the hat day, and all of these fine creations are for you, so that while you may go hairless for a time, you will never go hatless.”

  “Oh… I don't know what to say.” One by one, each woman stood, took off her hat, and placed it on Teza's head. A denim with sunflower from Kit, wild floral from Sue, blue and white gingham from Beth, red-and-white crocheted cap from Elsie Mae, and two turbans from Elaine, one in black silk with beads, bangles, and a feather, the other in red with white trim. “The black is for things like the gala, when you need to be dressed up.”

  Teza took her hats to the hall mirror and tried them all on again. “What a wonderful idea. I thought I'd go buy a wig but maybe not. These are”—she held her palms against her cheeks—“just too much. Thank you all.”

  “You are most welcome.” Elaine sat back down from giving Teza a hug and turned to Beth. “Hats are something you could sew. Let the oncology department know so they could send their clients to you. You could have some on display and take orders.” She stopped. “You did tell your husband about the business idea.”

  Beth nodded. “And he thought it would be a good thing. This would make it even better.”

  “If you'd like to put them on consignment at the hospital gift shop, I'm sure that could be arranged too.”

  “Thank you.” Beth reached down in her bag and brought up business cards. “Garth helped me with these last night.” She passed them both directions. “And everyone take two at least.” She tipped her head in Elaine's direction. “She said to do it that way, remember?”

  Needles flew for a time as they teased Sue about sewing a fidi wardrobe for Kelly, discussed plans for Labor Day, talked about the progress on all the other programs for earning money for the mam-mogram unit and other news about town.

  When they'd finished lunch, Beth stood in front of Kit's family picture wall and, to Kit, asked, “When will Mark be home again?”

  Kit felt as though she'd been jabbed with an ice pick, the pain slicing straight to her heart. “1… I dont know.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He's a computer consultant for a firm out of Tacoma.” Kit looked to Sue for help, but she half shrugged, half shook her head. No help there. And Teza looked about done in.

  “Shame you can't travel with him.” Beth followed the others over to the waiting frame.

  Kit looked up in time to catch a laser gaze from Elaine. Please, ignore her.

  “Your husband did some consulting for the hospital a couple of years ago, didn't he?” Elaine glanced up from her stitching.

  Kit nodded.

  “Shame he can't get more work locally.”

  “It is. Mark is so good at what he does, but then he's good at fixing or building most anything.” Teza smiled at Kit. “He built the most perfect window boxes. I planted annuals in them and sold them as fast as we could put them out.”

  “I have two. Change the plants each year. I love them, hanging on the railing around my deck.” Sue blinked and squinted to thread the needle. “I think they're making the eyes even smaller on these things.”

  “I could use some planter boxes like that.” Elaine looked back to Kit. “You think he would build me some?”

  Kit took a deep breath. “If I had any idea when Mark was coming home, I'd tell him, but I don't. He's been gone since January, and I really don't even know exactly where he is.”

  “Sad man on the run from God?”

  “Well put, Elsie Mae. Most likely from God and all the things here he said he could no longer handle.”

  “Like grieving for Amber?” Beth spoke softly.

  “And all the memories here. You can't really get away from them, but then I don't want to.”

  “You mean to say he left you all by yourself to grieve alone?” Elaine's question was rhetorical. “And you want him to come back?”

  Kit nodded.

  “I say send him packing. Ship him his things, and if and when he grows up, he can ask to begin all over again.” Elaine glared at her needle rocking in the quilt layers to form another stitch. “The nerve of him. So many of them do that to us, leave us alone to take care of all the stuff that comes along. It's just not fair. Why do you…we put up with it?”

  “You, too?” Elsie Mae raised an eyebrow.

  “No. I mean, I— We were talking about Mark.” Elaine let her hands fall in her lap. “Well, George has never left home. He's just married to the hospital.”

  “And would you throw him out?” Elsie Mae raised an eyebrow.

  “The thought has crossed my mind at times.”

  “Mine, too, but then I think, give him time to come to his senses or work through the grief or whatever he needs.” Kit sighed. “My marriage vows said for better or worse, in sickness and in health. We've had some of each…”

  “But you had them together—up until now?” Elsie Mae nodded, the small kind of nod that encouraged Kit to dig deeper into her thoughts, memories where she so often feared to venture.

  “Pretty much. I mean he was gone when Ryan broke his arm and through some of Amber's treatments, but he can't handle needles and… ”

  “And they call us the weaker sex.” Elaine threw herself back in her chair, arms dangling, eyes glaring at the ceiling. A chuckle that leaped the spaces between them made it around the frame.

  “So,” Elsie Mae continued, “does Mark know about Teza?”

  “Yes, we e-mail and he calls sometimes. He talks with Ryan and Jennifer. He sent me flowers with a card.”

  “And you know there's no one else in his life?” Elaine leaned on one elbow and stroked her chin between thumb and forefinger.

  Kit closed her eyes against the ice pick again. “I hope not.”

  “But it has crossed your mind.”

  “Hasn't it yours when George is late coming home and leaves again on an emergency and…” Kit banked the fire
before it flared beyond control. Why is she pushing me like this?

  “And yes, I've thought ofthat. But in a town this small, I'd have to be awfully dumb not to find out about it. And if he did have an affair, he'd be in the divorce court faster than he could don surgical scrubs.”

  “Maybe I needed some breathing room too. How could I help Mark when I was bleeding all over the place?” The tears that erupted for no reason or at any reason. Sleepless nights. Anger that would flare at some of the stupidest things. “It's been two years now, and while I've adjusted somewhat, I…” Kit grabbed for a tissue and blew her nose.

  “You need the other half of yourself holding you up.” Elsie Mae stood and came around behind Kit. “Lord in heaven, Kit here is hurting so bad.”

  “That's part of it!” She hunched her shoulders forward as if to get away from the calming hands. “Why do I want to pray to a God who took my daughter? He could have healed her, but he didn't. I've been asking why for two years now, and it still makes no sense whatsoever.”

  Beth knelt on the floor and put her arms around Kits waist. “You've helped us, now let us help you.”

  “I never thought my life would be like this, ripped up, torn apart. And yet, no matter how far or fast I try to run away, I know God is there. But sometimes I hate him for what he didn't do. What kind of a Christian am I to hate God?”

  “Funny who he brought to this group.” Elsie Mae looked to each of the women as she thought out loud. “Beth who couldn't forgive herself, and here's you who can't forgive God. And if I'm reading her right, Elaine can't forgive folks around her.”

  “Why should I forgive her, she's the one who's done all the rotten things?” Elaine glared at Elsie Mae as though she was dropping stitches as she sewed.

  “The letters,” Beth whispered. “Please write the letters. I know it helps.”

  “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us all.” Teza laid her hands on Beth's shoulder, and Sue, from the other side, laid hers on Elaine so that all of them were connected. “Heavenly Father, you know what we need, and we praise you for answering our heart cries. We thank you that you can heal us, that you never let us go, that you love us beyond time and measure. For your son's sake, have mercy on us all, O gracious Lord. Amen.”