Stitched Together

by Carol Dean Jones

  The women continued to talk for a while, and Sarah looked at the Asian fabrics with a new eye as the woman told them stories from her years spent in Japan.

  Later, Anna followed the woman to the cash register, where she rang up the book the woman was purchasing about traditional American quilts. “I don’t quilt, but I’m interested in learning someday.” Anna told her about Sarah’s class, and Amelia turned to wave at Sarah as she left the shop. “I just might be seeing you next fall,” she called to Sarah as she left the store.

  Returning to the fabric aisle, Anna asked Sarah if she were interested in making an Asian-inspired quilt.

  “Yes, but I have no idea what kind of pattern I would use. I wouldn’t want to cut this piece up,” she said, pointing to the geisha fabric, “but I really love it.”

  “That piece is a panel, Sarah, and is usually used as a center with borders or other blocks around it. We have several new books with patterns for Asian-inspired quilts if you would like to look at them. We haven’t even put them out yet.”

  While Anna walked to the back room to get the books, Sarah pulled several other bolts from the shelf and lined them on the table Ruth provided for her customers. Some of the bolts featured flowers alone, while others were interspersed with cranes, butterflies, and pagodas. By the time Anna returned with the books, Sarah had a dozen bolts of fabric lined up on the table.

  “I wonder if I could fussy cut the geisha out of the panel and use them with some of these other fabrics?”

  “Take a look at this pattern,” Anna said, pointing to the quilt on the cover of one of the books. “This is similar to what you’re describing.”

  “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m picturing, but it looks very complicated.”

  Anna opened the book and skimmed through the instructions. “I don’t think you’d have any trouble with this, Sarah. It looks complicated, but it’s primarily four-patches and half-square triangles. You can do this easily.”

  Sarah continued to run her hands over the fabrics. She sighed and said, “These fabrics touch me. There is something exciting about them. Something mysterious and exciting.”

  “I agree. Would you like to take this book? You could look at the other quilts and decide if you want to make one.”

  “I want to take the book, but I don’t need to decide. I already know that I want to make this one,” she responded, pointing to the quilt Anna had shown her. “How much fabric will I need?”

  Turning to the directions, Anna responded, “The pattern calls for ten different fabrics including the borders. Let’s see what we can put together.”

  The two women examined the bolts Sarah had placed on the table and added two more from the shelf. “What do you think?” Anna asked.

  “I was hoping to use parts of the panel. None of these has geisha.”

  “Okay. Let’s look at the pattern again,” Anna said, turning to a page with details about the layout. “How about you cut the geisha out of the panel and use them in these six-inch squares where they have the focus fabric?”

  “I love it,” Sarah said enthusiastically. “That’s perfect!” Sarah placed the panel on the table and removed her least favorite, allowing the panel to take its place. They decided which pieces would be the borders, and Anna put a sticky note on each bolt indicating the amount she would need to cut.

  “Okay—we’re ready to cut,” Anna said, and the two women carried the bolts to the cutting table.

  As Anna was cutting the panel, Sarah said, “Instead of two panels, I think I’ll take three since I might lose a few of the geisha when I’m fussy cutting.”

  Charles had teased her about fussy cutting. He had asked her what the term meant, and when she showed him how she would carefully cut around a design she wanted to feature, he started using the term copiously. In fact, when he served her a piece of birthday cake, he cut a round piece out of the middle of the cake, carefully cutting around the rose adornment and announced that it had been fussy cut just for her.

  By the time her students began to arrive for the afternoon class, Sarah had a bag of fabric, a book, and an excited expression on her face. “What’s going on?” Ruth asked Sarah as she was entering the classroom. Sarah told her about her plans, and as her students arrived, she was persuaded to take the fabric out and tell them about her project.

  As the students were taking their places at the machines, Ruth came back in and introduced a young man named Christopher. While he was getting acquainted with the other students, Ruth took a fourth machine out of the cupboard and set it up on the table next to Myrtle.

  “Just call me Chris,” he was telling the other students. Chris was in his mid-thirties and said he recently lost his job, and he wanted to spend some of his free time using the sewing machine and fabric his mother had left.

  They later learned that his mother had died several years ago, and her quilting supplies had been packed up and stored in the attic. Chris had been living there with a girlfriend but was alone now. “She wasn’t interested in a relationship with an unemployed store clerk,” he had said with an embarrassed chuckle.

  He told Sarah that his mother had been a gifted quilter, and he would like to learn the skill. “I think she would have liked that,” he said wistfully.

  Chris had grown up watching his mother sew, and he knew many of the basics. Ruth helped him choose his fabrics, and he caught up with the class quickly.

  The second class focused on cutting out fabric. Sarah went over the cutting instructions first; then she demonstrated using the rotary cutter. Although Sarah emphasized the importance of keeping the rotary cutter closed when not in use, Brenda Lee laid hers on the cutting mat still open and when she reached for it, she cut her finger. “My fabric is ruined,” she wailed as the blood dripped on the fabric she was preparing to cut.

  “It’s just on the corner, Brenda Lee. We can cut that part off.”

  Doris had Band-Aids in her sewing basket and came to Brenda Lee’s aid. Once things had settled down again and the students began to cut, Myrtle’s ruler slipped when she was making a long cut, resulting in her two-inch strip now being two inches wide at one end and one and a half inches on the other. Sarah took the ruined piece out to Ruth and asked her to cut another strip from the bolt. While she was in the shop, she grabbed a package of rubber circles that could be attached to the back of the ruler to keep it from skidding. Everyone in the class decided to put them on their rulers as well.

  Chris was the only one who could handle the rotary cutter proficiently, and he ended up helping Myrtle, who continued to have problems.

  “If you have trouble with the other quilts you plan to make at home,” Sarah said to her after class, “come in and we’ll help you cut it out.”

  Everyone finished cutting and had their fabric labeled and ready to begin sewing the next week. As they were getting ready to leave, Doris asked if they could sew their strips at home.

  “No, Doris. Today we looked at the importance of precise, careful cutting, and next week we’ll be looking at the importance of the quarter-inch seam allowance. I’ll show you some techniques for ensuring that your seam is accurate. Then we’ll do our sewing together, and if we have time, we’ll make our four-patches.”

  Doris, who was more experienced than the other students, decided she wanted to make a second quilt at home using the same pattern. “I need a gift for my daughter’s birthday, and this would be a terrific surprise for her. She doesn’t know I’m taking this class.”

  Sarah was pleased that Doris was taking her experience beyond the class project. “I think that’s a fantastic idea, Doris. If you need any help choosing the fabrics, Ruth is out in the shop and will be happy to help you.”

  As they were leaving the classroom, Sarah noticed that Myrtle was having trouble getting up from her chair, and she hurried over to give her a hand. “I’m sorry,” Myrtle muttered. “This ol’ hip of mine is really acting up. The doc wants to give me a new one, and I guess I should do it. It really scares me
, though,” she added, shaking her head. “I just don’t know.”

  “Is someone picking you up, or did you drive here?” Sarah asked.

  “Oh, I just live a couple of blocks up the street. I walked over. The exercise is good for me.”

  “How about I drive you today, Myrtle? They’re predicting rain tonight, and if you’re anything like me, the old joints can really complain when the weather changes.”

  “That’s for sure!” Myrtle responded with a knowing grin. “But you’re a long way from old, Mrs. Parker.”

  “Call me Sarah, and I just had my seventieth birthday.”

  “See? You’re a youngster. I’ll be turning eighty next week.”

  “We’re both youngsters,” Sarah laughed. “Let me drive you today, okay?”

  “I’d be much appreciative,” Myrtle responded, leaving the room while leaning heavily on her cane. “I need thread, so I’ll go get that while you’re packing up. Don’t hurry.”

  Eighty years old and taking a class to learn something new! Sarah had tremendous respect for this woman who didn’t let her age or her pain keep her from life. She made a mental note to bring a cake to the next class so the group could celebrate Myrtle’s birthday.

  “What an adorable house,” Sarah commented as she pulled up to the curb where Myrtle had indicated. It was a small brick house with red shutters. A pink dogwood to the left of the walkway was in bloom, and a short picket fence enclosed a yard that was filled with spring flowers. “Do you do your own gardening?”

  “I found a young man to help me this year. Edward took care of it until he died last fall.” She looked away, avoiding Sarah’s eyes.

  “Your husband?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Realizing Myrtle didn’t want to talk about it, she quickly changed the subject. “I’m excited about the quilts you’re planning for your great-grandchildren. The one you are working on in class is adorable.” Myrtle had chosen brown and green fabrics with an animal motif, which she said the middle boy would love.

  “I hope you’ll bring the other quilts in to show us when you finish them.”

  “Lord willing,” she responded as she shuffled up the walkway toward her door. Sarah waited until she was inside before driving away. So many people carry sadness that they hide from the world.

  Sarah made the decision to have a serious talk with Charles about their future. “We’re not youngsters,” she had told Sophie the previous day. “How many years can we possibly have together? We shouldn’t waste a single day arguing about where to live.”

  “Would you move?” Sophie had asked.

  “If necessary,” she had responded, “but I hope it won’t come to that.” Lord willing.

  Chapter 6

  “Good morning, my love.” Charles had just come out of the bedroom, and as usual, he was cheerful, freshly showered, and fully dressed for the day. Sarah loved that about him. She was still in her dressing gown but only because she was letting him use their only facilities. “We need two bathrooms,” he said as if he read her thoughts.

  “Absolutely. We need two bathrooms and a larger house to wrap around them.” She poured their coffee, slipped freshly baked biscuits out of the oven, and served them along with a bowl of eggs scrambled with onions and mushrooms.

  “That’s what smelled so good!” Charles exclaimed as she set the food on the table.

  After they ate and she had poured their second cup of coffee, she looked at him seriously and said, “Charles, we need to talk.”

  “That sounds ominous,” he said, looking guilty. “What did I do wrong?”

  Despite the seriousness of the subject, Sarah couldn’t help but laugh at his response. “You’re such a little boy! You didn’t do a thing wrong. We just need to decide what we’re going to do about a home of our own.”

  Looking contrite, he responded, “I know, and I’m sorry to make light of it. We can’t keep putting this off. I’ve been thinking about this idea of mine that we move to Colorado.”

  “And …?”

  “I’m beginning to think it might be a bad idea,” he announced, much to Sarah’s surprise. “I look at you and your family, and I know it wouldn’t be right for you to be so far from them. And it probably wouldn’t solve my problem anyway. So I think we should give up on the idea of moving out there.”

  Sarah sighed with relief. “Thank you, Charles. Thank you for understanding that.”

  “But,” he continued, “I still want to build a relationship with my boys.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I was hoping that you and I could visit them once or twice a year, and maybe, off in the future, they’d be willing to come here for a visit.”

  “Also phone calls in the interim,” Sarah suggested. “And even emails?”

  “Yes. So how about we go out there for a few weeks? It would give us a chance to spend time with them, and it would be a little vacation for us. What do you think?”

  Sarah hesitated for a moment and then replied, “I’d need to think about this, Charles, but my immediate thought is that this first trip is something you should do alone. I think adding me to the equation just gives the boys another issue between you and them. I don’t think they’re comfortable with our marriage. They hardly acknowledged our wedding. I think you need to spend time with them by yourself first and see what you can do about reconnecting with them.”

  Charles looked down at his coffee cup and nodded his head. “I’m afraid you’re right. I’d miss you, but this is probably something I should do alone.” He sighed and gently pushed his coffee cup away. “I’ll think about it and maybe call John and sound him out about a visit.”

  “Will you call David?”

  “I’ll call John first, but then I’ll see if David will talk to me.”

  Sarah knew how important it was to Charles that he connected with his sons, but she felt it was going to be an uphill battle. He and his boys had never been a family. During their mother’s long illness, her sister, Sylvia, had provided much of the boys’ care. Charles worked long hours and was rarely home.

  After their mother’s death, the boys moved in with Sylvia. The year they graduated from high school, their Aunt Sylvia and her husband moved to Denver, and Charles agreed to let them take the boys. “I couldn’t take care of them,” he had told Sarah. “I was emotionally empty. I didn’t have anything to give.”

  Both of the boys chose to continue their education in Colorado and spent all their holidays with their aunt and uncle. After receiving their advanced degrees, they both accepted positions in Denver: John as an attorney with a major law firm and David as a high school principal. Ultimately, they both married, John first and later David. Neither invited their father to the wedding. John and his wife had a son that Charles had never met. David and his wife didn’t have children, at least as far as Charles knew. David was the angrier of the two and never communicated with his father. John was the one that had made the few calls over the years.

  “Have you ever talked to either of the boys about their anger or about what happened back then?” Sarah asked.

  “I tried once. John came to town when I had my stroke, but he didn’t want to talk about the past. I told him how much it meant to me for him to come, but he implied that he was only there to please his aunt.”

  “Why do you think they’re so angry?” Sarah asked, laying her hand on his.

  “They blame me for their mother’s death. It doesn’t make sense, but they were young. Then I think they believe I abandoned them. I guess in some ways I did,” he added softly.

  They sat quietly for a while, sipping their coffee. Finally, Charles stood and reached for Barney’s leash. “Come on, boy. We need fresh air.” The dog raised his head and looked at Charles with drowsy eyes, wagged his tail a couple of times, lifted his rear end into the air, and stretched his front paws as far as he could until all his parts were fully awake. He then got up and eagerly led Charles to the front d
oor, knowing that he was about to have an outdoor adventure. His tail was wagging vigorously by the time he got to the door. Everything was an adventure to Barney.

  Later that day, Charles said he was going over to his apartment. “I might spend the night there if that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s fine. I’m going to be sewing, and you know how my projects can run into the wee hours.” She knew he needed time alone to think things through, and alone time was impossible to get in her tiny house.

  “What are you working on?” he asked before leaving. She appreciated that he always took an interest in her quilting. She pulled out the oriental fabrics and the Asian-inspired quilt book and showed him the one she was planning to make. He said he loved it, but there was a sadness in his eyes which made her heart cry. She reached over and kissed him gently. He wrapped her in his arms and stood there quietly for a few minutes.

  After he left, the house felt very empty. Sarah reflected on the fact that she had lived there alone for nearly three years, and it had never felt empty until she let Charles into her heart.

  Chapter 7

  “Hey, Sarah! Stop in when you get back,” Sophie hollered. She was dressed in her tattered chartreuse robe and pink elephant pajamas, standing on her porch and waving at Sarah as she was walking toward the park with Barney.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sarah called to her. “We aren’t going far with this nip in the air.” It was early, but Barney had seemed desperate to get out.

  Sophie hurried in as fast as her arthritic knee would allow and started the coffeepot. She slipped the package of store-bought sticky buns into a warming oven and headed back into the living room to switch on her electric fireplace. “That looks cozy,” she said to herself as she walked back to the door to watch for Sarah. There was a strong wind blowing from the north, and she knew Sarah wouldn’t be out there long.