So she watched Kate work on a new project, one made of the fabric the Englisch called camouflage. “I was working on quilts for friends of my husband who are still in the military. Usually they like patriotic themes and colors. But then one day one of them wrote my husband and said they can’t take them into the field because they have to pack them in their knapsack, and it makes it hard to carry with everything they need.”
Kate held up the half-sewn quilt. “But they can roll these up and tie them on the outside of the knapsack with some fabric strips I’ll sew on, and they’ll blend in with the rest of their uniform.”
She resumed sewing. “A quilt gives them the feeling someone back home cares, and it keeps them warm on a cold night.” She glanced up to see if anyone needed them to help and focused again on her work. “Did Jenny Bontrager ever tell you how she came to live here?”
“I don’t know all the details.” Jenny was a member of their church—she hadn’t been born Amish, although her father had been Amish and he’d chosen not to join the church.
“Jenny was a television reporter who did stories overseas about children living in war zones. She was hurt in a bombing and flown back to the States.” She paused to make a knot and then rethread her needle. “Her grandmother, Phoebe King, sent a quilt to her hospital room and told her to come recuperate here. So Jenny came back and met Matthew Bontrager, the boy next door to Phoebe, and now they live ‘happily ever after.’”
“In a way, that quilt brought two people to your community,” Kate said, looking thoughtful. “Chris Matlock, Jenny’s brother-in-law, met her at a hospital up in New York. He was a soldier who’d been injured overseas. He came here after they wrote to each other, and she told him about Paradise. And he met Hannah, Jenny’s sister-in-law, and now they’re married.”
She set the quilt down and flexed her fingers. “And when Chris came to town, my husband, Malcolm, came here, too. They knew each other although Malcolm would be the first to tell you he didn’t come here because he and Chris were friends.”
“I remember when he came here,” Lavina said. Malcolm had been seeking revenge, blaming Chris for reporting him for a crime he’d committed.
“Just goes to show you how much a person can turn his life around when he wants to,” Kate said cheerfully. “He does volunteer work with veterans now, especially those who have drug and alcohol problems. I’m so lucky that he came into my life. I was thirty-five when I met him and didn’t think marriage was for me.”
Some days it seemed to Lavina like everyone she knew was married, going around two-by-two like the animals on Noah’s Ark. She shook her head as if to chase away the negative thought. Really, this was the second time this morning she’d found herself being negative. It wasn’t like her . . .
“I think I’ll walk around and see if anyone needs any help.”
“Thanks. I’ll confess I’m glad to be off my feet for a while. I just came off a long shift and haven’t been to bed yet.”
Now Lavina felt guilty. She didn’t have the workload or family responsibilities Kate did and hadn’t shown up on time.
She stayed a little longer so she could help the women put their project boxes up, and so Kate could leave on time.
So when she walked into Stitches in Time she found herself apologizing for the second time that day.
“Don’t worry about it,” Leah said. “I knew you’d be by.”
She pulled the top off the box of quilt orders, admiring the work as she always did. And then she frowned. “I thought you were bringing six. There’s five in the box, Lavina.”
Lavina counted. Leah was right.
“I have copies of the order in the drawer here,” Leah said. She pulled them from a drawer under the shop counter. “Let’s see what’s missing.”
They found that one of the quilts that Mary Elizabeth had sewn, a wedding ring quilt, was missing.
“I remember putting it into the box last night,” Lavina said, wondering what had happened. “Let me go out to the buggy and make sure it didn’t fall out of the box on the way in.”
But the quilt wasn’t in the buggy. She returned to the shop. “I don’t know what happened. I’ll go home and see if I left it there.”
“I’m sure you’ll find it. Let me give you a check.”
“Only for the five.”
“I know you’re good for the missing one.”
“Only for the five,” Lavina repeated firmly.
With a sigh, Leah wrote out the check for five. “Just give me a call so I’ll know when to tell the customer she can pick it up.”
“I will. And danki, Leah.”
“You’re wilkumm.” She smiled at Lavina. “We have some new fabric out on the table here,” she told her, gesturing at it.
“So I can spend the check before I leave?” Lavina joked.
But her smile was forced. What could have happened to the quilt? Her schweschders and mudder wouldn’t have removed it from the box . . .
She browsed the table even though she wanted to rush home and search for the missing quilt. But she forced herself to stay calm and look over the new fabric, telling herself the quilt was undoubtedly sitting on the table where she’d packed up the orders. Maybe she’d gotten distracted and not packed it, or Mary Elizabeth had taken it out to do one last thing to it and hadn’t put it back. They’d laugh about it when she got home.
Lavina found two bolts of fabric that she couldn’t resist, and soon was walking out the door and on her way home.
The quilt was nowhere to be found when she got home. And Mary Elizabeth said she had not only not taken it out for a last minute stitch or whatever—she’d watched Lavina pack it the night before.
They went out to the buggy to look and shook their heads when they didn’t find the quilt.
“Did you go straight to Leah’s?”
“Nee, I was running late. I went to class first.” Lavina’s hand flew to her mouth. “Do you think someone took it?”
“That’s the only thing I can think of.”
“But why would someone take one and not the whole box?”
Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “Maybe they were hoping you wouldn’t notice one was gone?”
Lavina sighed. “I’ll have to let Leah know and ask if the customer can wait for us to sew another.”
“I’ll do it as quick as I can.” Mary Elizabeth rubbed her back.
“Nee, I should have to do it. It’s my fault it’s gone.”
“But the pattern’s one I’ve done a lot. It’ll go faster if I do it.”
“How can someone steal?” Lavina asked her. Her stomach churned. “Who would do such a thing?”
Mary Elizabeth slid her arm around her waist. “I don’t know. Maybe you should call Kate. Come on, let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.”
***
David hadn’t had a plan in mind when he came home. He’d just come back to help his mudder.
Other than doing his dat’s chores, he wasn’t certain he was really helping much. Although spring planting was months away, it required planning, ordering seeds, all manner of things. And his dat spent so much time in chemo, or doctor appointments, or in his room, resting or moping, he wasn’t doing any of it.
The farm had been his life’s work. David felt if he could get him thinking about the coming planting season, maybe it would help give him something to look forward to. Because his mudder had confided she was afraid he was giving up, David was worried, too. If anyone knew his dat, it was his mudder. The woman had been married to him for more than thirty years. Was she saint or martyr? he wondered.
They sat there, the three of them, eating supper and as usual, his mudder doing her best to look and act cheerful, while Amos glowered over his bowl of chili, one of his favorites. It wasn’t spicy enough, he said. Then, when Waneta jumped up for his favorite hot sauce, he added too much, tasted it, and said it was too spicy. So she took the bowl away and brought him a fresh one, and the complaints started again.
&nb
sp; David felt like he was living the children’s story Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Maybe it was time to shake things up, get his dat’s mind off himself as he’d thought earlier . . .
“I was thinking of spring planting,” he said and ignored the apprehensive look his mudder shot him. “I’m thinking it’s time to put into effect some of those ideas I’ve mentioned to you in the past.”
“I told you they’re stupid.”
He winced inwardly. It still hurt that the old man wouldn’t listen to any of his suggestions. But he had come to see that it came from his dat’s refusal to consider anything he hadn’t come up with—not that David was stupid. His dat was a man who had to be in charge of everything in his home, on his farm.
“Well, since you can’t do the planting . . .”
“Who says I can’t? I’m not dead yet!” he bellowed.
Waneta covered his hand with hers. “Amos, it’s not gut for you to get upset.”
“You’re not taking over my farm!” Amos shook off her hand and slammed his fist on the table, making the silverware jump. “I’m not ready to die yet!”
“Then maybe you’ll start doing some of the things Mamm says the doctor wants you to do.” He looked meaningfully at the uneaten supper sitting before his dat. “Like eating and getting some exercise. You can’t do the planting lying in bed most of the day.”
Amos turned red as a beet, and for a moment David thought he’d gone too far.
“Don’t you sit at my table eating my food and tell me what I can do!” he shouted. “I’m going to do my own planting, and you’re going to have to get your own farm if you want your changes, you hear me?”
“I think our neighbors two farms down can hear you,” David said mildly.
“Amos, here, take a drink of water.” Waneta pushed it toward him. “David’s only trying to help.”
Amos snorted and just glared at him. But he drank some water and the redness faded from his face. A few minutes later, he began eating and scraped the bottom of the bowl of chili, then the bowl of applesauce. He rose, announced he was going to sit in the living room and read, then left the room.
Later, after his dat shuffled up to bed, David went out to the barn and found the seed catalogs he knew were stored in an old battered desk there. He’d leave them on the kitchen table and see what happened.
Now if he could just come up with an idea of where to take Lavina that didn’t involve going to the coffee shop. His wallet was nearly empty.
When he walked into the kitchen a few days later, his mudder was just finishing up the dishes. She dried a baking dish and set it on the table.
“I need to return that and two more to Lavina,” she said.
David glanced at the kitchen clock. “I could do that.”
“You could, could you?” she asked with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“No bother at all.”
She found a tote bag and packed it. “It would be so nice if I could put in something as a thank you. Some cookies or bread or something.” She sighed.
“Everyone knows what you’re going through,” he told her. “Someday you’ll be the one baking or cooking for others just like you’ve done for years.”
“Ya,” she said and she smiled at him. “Danki for reminding me.”
David drove over to Lavina’s house. Mary Elizabeth answered the door and invited him in.
“Mamm wanted me to return these,” he told her, trying not to be obvious as he glanced around.
“Lavina’s in the kitchen,” she told him. “Why don’t you take them in to her?” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You know the way.”
He did indeed. He’d been invited to supper here many times when he and Lavina dated.
Lavina turned from the sink and saw him. “David!”
He held out the tote. “Bringing these back to you. Mamm said to say danki.”
“Tell her she’s wilkumm. It’s the least we can do. How is your dat?”
“Doing a little better, I think. Can you go for a drive with me?”
She glanced at the clock. “Ya, if it’s not a long one.” She grabbed her jacket from a peg by the back door.
David hurried ahead to the truck to open her door and then, once she was inside, he got in the driver’s side, turned the ignition, and got the heater started.
“So what’s wrong?” she asked him before they left the driveway.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“When I asked you how your dat was you said he was a little better, but you frowned.”
“I did?”
She nodded.
He backed out carefully, watching for traffic. “I really do think he’s doing a little better. Mamm was worried that he seemed to be giving up. I noticed he was resting more and more lately. So I said I’d be happy to take care of ordering seed, planning for the spring planting. Maybe try some of those new ideas I’d mentioned to him in the past.”
She gasped. “You didn’t! That always caused a fight before!”
David glanced at her and grinned. “Ya.”
“But why would you deliberately pick a fight with him?”
“It schur perked him up,” he told her, turning down the road that led to their favorite ice cream shop. It might not be summer but he felt like ice cream. “I put the seed catalogs on the kitchen table and haven’t seen them since. Mamm said he’s been looking through them each day while I’m at work. And now he’s been eating better and actually getting a little exercise.”
“I always wondered which of you was the most stubborn.”
“Hey, I thought you were on my side.”
“I was. I am.”
He pulled into the parking lot of the ice cream store. “How about splitting a banana split with me.”
“Allrecht.”
“Stay here where it’s warm. I’ll run in and get it.”
When he returned, he had a dish in each hand. She rolled down the passenger side window and took one from him.
“I thought we were going to share. I can’t eat all this,” she protested.
“Schur you can. I always used to feel bad that we split one because you knew I was short on money.”
She dipped her plastic spoon into the whipped cream. “I’m surprised you have any money left after our fancy supper out.”
“I’ll be fine until payday on Friday. Gas tank’s full.”
“Gas is expensive,” she said as she spooned up a bite of banana. “It’s a lot cheaper to drive a buggy.”
“Well, Nellie expects a lot of apples for treats, not just oats and hay,” he joked, wondering why she suddenly looked so serious.
She looked up. “That’s not why you’re keeping the truck. You’re keeping it because you haven’t made a commitment to staying.”
***
The minute she said it, Lavina wished she could call it back. She glanced at him and saw that his hands had tightened on the steering wheel.
Silence stretched between them as the truck ate up the miles.
“You want me to give up the truck.”
“I didn’t say that. I said you were keeping it because you haven’t made a commitment to staying.”
He pulled over and looked at her. “How can I make a commitment? Any day my dat could ask me to leave. Then I wouldn’t have a way to get to my job, same as I didn’t when I left last time.”
“You think he’d do that?”
He leaned back, dropping his head against the headrest. “Who knows? I don’t have to tell you what a difficult man he’s always been.” He turned to her. “Do I?”
“Nee,” she said finally. “You don’t.”
“Look, this is going to sound awful, but sometimes I wonder if the only way this situation is going to be resolved is if he dies.”
“David! Don’t say such a thing!”
“I didn’t say I wanted it. But you know it’s true. He’s not going to change and decide to let me take over the farm.�
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Lavina stared out the window. What could she say? He was right.
“I won’t leave while Mamm needs my help,” he said quietly. “But I don’t see that I have a future there.”
He sat up, checked traffic, and moved back out onto the road. “I’d better take you home.”
They drove home in silence. He pulled into her driveway a few minutes later and when she reached for the door handle he touched her arm.
“I’m not sorry I came back,” he told her. “I don’t want you to think that. If I hadn’t, I’d have always wondered if I could have changed something between Daed and me. And you were right. Mamm needs the help. Hopefully Daed will get better.”
She nodded. “I’ll say a prayer for him. And you.”
Turning, she slipped from the truck and went into the house.
No one was downstairs when she went inside. Grateful she didn’t have to talk to anyone, she fixed a cup of tea and sat at the table to drink it. Life seemed so complicated. Somehow she’d thought it would get easier as she got older, but instead it just seemed harder, more complicated.
Rose Anna walked into the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were home. Did you have a good time with David?”
“It was allrecht.” She gave a lot of attention to stirring a teaspoon of sugar into her tea. “I thought I’d have a cup of tea before I go up to bed.”
“Did you hear Isaac Troyer and Katie Miller are getting married next week?”
Lavina closed her eyes. “Not another one. That makes three next week.”
Rose Anna reached over and covered her hand. “I’m sorry.”
She opened her eyes and saw the quiet sympathy in her schweschder’s eyes. “It was hard last year going to all the weddings after David left. It should be easier by now.”
“But it still hurts.”
She nodded and sighed. “It’s not just that. Did Mary Elizabeth tell you about the quilt being stolen?”
“Ya. She cut the pieces out for a new one tonight.”
Now Lavina felt guilty. “She had to work while I went out for a drive. It was my fault it got stolen. I should have taken the quilts to Leah’s instead of going to quilt class.”
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