The Quilter's Apprentice

by Jennifer Chiaverini

  “You were a decent sister,” Mrs. Emberly insisted. “I was a spoiled, flighty little child concerned for no one but myself. You cared about your family and your home, and I should have been more understanding.”

  “You may have been foolish, but that’s not as bad as being deliberately mean.”

  “Well, perhaps you were overbearing and bossy and always thought you knew better than everyone else, but at least you didn’t blunder in unwanted only to divide a family and place enmity between sisters.”

  “Nonsense. Claudia and I always squabbled, as far back as I can remember. You had nothing to do with that.”

  Sarah looked from one tear-stained face to the other. “Mrs. Compson, Mrs. Emberly—”

  Mrs. Compson didn’t even turn around. “Remember, Sarah, never interrupt your elders when they’re in the middle of making a point. Will you excuse us for a while? Agnes and I have some matters to discuss. It’s time for me to stop being a self-righteous old bag of wind and make amends while the sun shines.” She gave Mrs. Emberly a small, hesitant smile, which the other woman returned. Then Mrs. Compson gave Sarah a look over her shoulder that said as clearly as if she had spoken, As for you, young lady, I’ll deal with you later.

  Sarah nodded, then turned and hurried back to the house, leaving Mrs. Compson and Mrs. Emberly alone in the garden.

  Twenty-Eight

  Sarah waited outside on the back stairs for the other guests to arrive. A few minutes before five o’clock, Bonnie and Diane pulled up in Diane’s car.

  “How did it go?” Bonnie asked in a stage whisper as they walked toward the manor.

  “I don’t know yet. They’re still out in the garden.”

  Diane sat down on the steps beside her. “Well, at least they didn’t kill each other. That’s something, anyway.” She nudged Sarah and grinned.

  “I think it’s wonderful that you’re trying to bring those two together, Sarah,” Bonnie said. “It couldn’t have been easy, considering how long they’ve been estranged.”

  “Bonnie’s right. If you can pull it off, it’ll be a nice thing you’ve done for them.”

  Sarah reddened. “It’s no big deal. I’m just trying to save my job, that’s all.”

  Diane rolled her eyes. “Do you expect us to believe—”

  “Look, Judy’s here,” Sarah interrupted, relieved to be able to change the subject. She stood and waved to Judy as she pulled up in her minivan. Close behind came Gwen and Summer.

  As always, everyone had brought a dessert; Sarah guided them to the kitchen, where they set their trays and boxes next to the pile of goodies already awaiting them. Then she led them through the manor and out the front entry to the veranda. The others’ reactions made her smile. She had gawked even more her first days here, and that was a layer of dust or two ago. They still had more to do, Sarah reminded herself. Matt’s work and her own had done much to restore Elm Creek Manor, but they weren’t finished yet.

  They waited on the veranda in Adirondack chairs she and Matt had arranged there. Their conversation broke off when Mrs. Compson and Mrs. Emberly came around the north side of the building walking arm in arm. They hesitated at the foot of the stairs as the others watched them.

  “Well?” Mrs. Compson finally barked, glaring up at them. “What are you all looking at?”

  After the barest pause, Mrs. Emberly burst into laughter, and the others joined in.

  Mrs. Compson smiled sheepishly. “Not much of a welcome, was it? Please accept my apologies. It’s not every day hell freezes over.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “And now I’m cursing. Goodness, what has gotten into me?”

  They went inside to the ballroom, where everyone oohed and ahhed appropriately as Sarah showed them her quilt. Then they decided they were hungry, so Judy used her car phone to order pizza. By the time the delivery car pulled up behind the manor, all the women—including Mrs. Compson—were chatting and laughing like old friends.

  After a casual supper on the veranda, they got to work. Four people sat quilting on one side of the quilt frame and three on the other while the eighth person threaded needles, fetched quilting tools, or ran for snacks. Every so often the runner would trade places with one of the quilters so that everyone had a chance to rest their fingers. As they worked they talked about themselves, their quilts, their families, and their jobs, and often the ballroom would echo with laughter.

  Occasionally everyone would take a break from quilting, and they would hurry to the kitchen for snacks and conversation, giggling like kids at recess, until their fingers felt ready to pick up their needles again. Sarah was delighted to see how quickly eight pairs of hands virtually flew over the fabric. Beside the more experienced hands, Sarah thought her own plodded along clumsily, but she had to admit her stitches were improving.

  As the evening waned, one by one the quilters sighed and stretched and pushed their chairs away from the quilting frame—Mrs. Emberly first, then Diane, then Judy, and then the others until only Sarah and Mrs. Compson were left.

  “It’s nearly midnight,” Mrs. Compson finally said, straightening and working out the kinks in her shoulders. “Perhaps it’s best to stop for the night.”

  Although they were tired, no one wanted to go to bed just yet, so they went out to the veranda to watch the fireflies flickering in a silent dance on the lawn. They chatted more quietly now, and Sarah could feel the gentle sound of the rearing stallion fountain lulling her to sleep.

  Her eyes were about to close for good when Mrs. Compson placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s show our guests to their rooms, shall we?”

  Sarah nodded and pulled herself up from her chair. Carrying Mrs. Emberly’s overnight bag, she led the others inside and upstairs to their rooms. Sleepy though they were, the Tangled Web Quilters were pleased with their suites, with the lovely Amish furniture, the pretty quilts on the beds, and the cut flowers Mrs. Compson had so carefully arranged. Sarah showed them where the bathrooms were and wished them good night.

  She carried Mrs. Emberly’s bag into her room for her and placed it in the corner. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, closing the door behind her.

  “Sarah?” Mrs. Emberly called before the door was completely shut.

  Sarah pushed the door open again. “Yes?”

  Mrs. Emberly stood in the center of the room, hands clasped at her waist. “Thank you for today.”

  Sarah smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

  Mrs. Emberly gave her a searching look. “Tell me something, Sarah. Did you select our rooms for us or did I end up with this room by chance?”

  “Well, actually—” Sarah hesitated, glancing over her shoulder to see if Mrs. Compson was near. “Originally we picked these rooms because they’re close together and already cleaned, and we were just going to have everyone pick whichever room they liked best. But when you were in the kitchen with Judy, Mrs. Compson told me to make sure you got this one. Why? Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, no. Quite the contrary.” She looked around the room, a thoughtful, sad smile on her lips. “This was my first husband’s room when he was young.” She pointed to a desk next to the door. “His initials are on that brass plate right there. We stayed here together before he went into the service.”

  “I see.”

  “And Sylvia wanted me to have this suite. What do you suppose she intended?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask her.”

  “No. That won’t be necessary. I think I know.”

  Sarah smiled, then nodded and left.

  Her own room was two doors down and across the hall. After changing into a short cotton nightgown, she padded down the hall in her slippers to the nearest bathroom. When she returned, she found Mrs. Compson sitting on the bed.

  “Well, young lady, you certainly had a busy day full of surprises, didn’t you?”

  “You aren’t angry, are you?”

  “Of course not.” She rose and gave Sarah a hug. “You forced me to do something I should h
ave done on my own a long time ago. I suppose I just needed a push.”

  “How did it go? In the garden, I mean, talking with Mrs. Emberly.”

  “Better than I could have expected or hoped.” Mrs. Compson sighed. “But we have a long way to go until we’re as close as sisters ought to be. As you know from my stories, we were never friends, and we’ve both changed so much since we knew each other last. Who can say? Perhaps those changes will allow us to be friends in a way that simply wasn’t possible then.” She gave Sarah an affectionate smile. “As I said, we have a long way to go, but at least we’ve finally begun a journey we should have made fifty years ago.” She turned and stepped through the open doorway. “Good night, Sarah.”

  “Good night.”

  Sarah shut the door behind her and switched off the light. She climbed into bed and inhaled the fragrance of the freshly washed, smooth cotton sheets. The room was cool and comfortable for a warm summer’s night. Moonlight spilled in through the open window, and a soft wind stirred the curtains. Sarah rolled over onto her side and ran her hand along the empty space in the bed beside her. This was the first time she had slept without Matt since they were married, and it felt strange. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling wide-eyed, memories of the day crowding into her thoughts. She knew she would never fall asleep with so much to think about.

  Then sunlight was dancing on the braided rug and someone was knocking on the door. Sarah leaped out of bed and fumbled on the bedside table for her watch.

  “Get up, sleepyhead,” Summer’s voice rang out on the other side of the door.

  “Come on in,” Sarah called.

  Summer entered, grinning. “Are you going to sleep all day while the rest of us work on your quilt?”

  “Is everyone else up already?” Sarah ran a comb through her long hair and snatched up her shower bag.

  Summer nodded. “Mom and I got up and went running early. She always does, rain or shine. The grounds are awesome. Mrs. Compson said to let you sleep until one of the showers was open. She said, and I quote, ‘All of that mischief Sarah’s been up to lately must have taken a lot out of her.’ ”

  “That sounds like her.” Sarah laughed. She hurried off to the shower while Summer joined the others downstairs.

  As quickly as she could, Sarah showered, dressed, and went down to the kitchen, where the other quilters were talking and laughing over coffee, bagels, and fruit. After breakfast they returned to the ballroom to finish the quilt.

  After they had been quilting and chatting for a while, Sarah looked around the quilt frame to Diane, Judy, Mrs. Emberly, and Gwen. “So,” she said, changing the subject. “Did you guys have fun at quilt camp the other week?”

  “Go on, tell us,” Bonnie urged. “Mrs. Compson didn’t get to hear you talk about it before.”

  Gwen launched into a vivid description of quilt camp, with the others occasionally speaking up to add a detail or share an anecdote. Sarah noted that Mrs. Compson seemed interested in the discussion, especially when Judy and Mrs. Emberly gushed about the new techniques they had learned in the different classes they had been able to take.

  “Sounds like fun, doesn’t it, Mrs. Compson?” Sarah asked when they had finished. To her satisfaction, Mrs. Compson agreed.

  At noon they broke for a picnic lunch in the north gardens. Matt met them there, and after pulling Sarah aside for a kiss and murmuring “I missed you last night” in her ear, he proceeded to badger the quilters with questions about this mysterious surprise for which an overnight party was necessary. He pretended to be crushed when they refused to divulge the secret, but they knew he was only teasing them. After a lunch of chicken salad sandwiches, fruit, and iced tea, Matt led them on a tour of the gardens, explaining the restorations he and his coworkers had completed so successfully.

  Before long Matt left for the orchards and the quilters returned to the ballroom. While the others put the last quilting stitches in Sarah’s sampler, Gwen and Summer created a long strip of binding for the raw edges of the quilt by cutting a large square of the cream fabric into two triangles, then seaming them together so that they formed an offset tube from which they cut the narrow bias strip.

  Then Sarah finished quilting the last section of the last design.

  Mrs. Emberly, Mrs. Compson, and Bonnie removed the quilt from the frame and spread it flat on the dance floor. While Sarah carefully trimmed the backing and batting even with the edges of the quilt top, Diane folded the long binding strip in half, wrong sides facing inward, and pressed it with a hot iron so the crease would stay. She explained to Sarah that doubling over the strip increased its durability, which was important because the edges of a quilt experienced so much wear and tear. When that task was completed, the others relaxed on the veranda while Mrs. Compson showed Sarah how to sew the binding strip around the edges of the top of the quilt with the sewing machine. Sarah had to pull out stitches and try again when it came to mitering the binding at the corners, but in the end she was pleased with the results.

  Sarah and Mrs. Compson carried the nearly finished quilt outside, where the others had arranged their chairs in a rectangle on the shady veranda. After a debate over whether blind stitches or whip stitches were best—the blind stitch advocates won—they showed Sarah how to fold the binding strip over the raw edges of the quilt and sew it to the quilt back. Each quilter worked on her one-eighth of the quilt circumference until the raw edges were covered by the smooth strip of fabric.

  Sarah thought the quilt was finished, but to her surprise, the others flipped the quilt over to the back and turned to Summer. The youngest quilter reached into her sewing kit and pulled out a rectangular patch trimmed in blue, which she placed in Sarah’s lap.

  “What’s this?” Sarah asked, lifting the piece and examining it. There were words printed on the right side, and she read them aloud:

  SARAH’S SAMPLER

  Pieced by Sarah Mallory McClure

  and Sylvia Bergstrom Compson

  Quilted by the Tangled Web Quilters

  August 3, 1996

  Elm Creek Manor, Waterford, Pennsylvania

  “It’s a tag to sew on the back,” Summer explained. “I ironed some fabric to freezer paper and ran it through my laser printer. That printing won’t wash out.”

  Sarah gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Summer. Thanks a lot.” She looked around at her friends’ smiling faces. “That goes for all of you. I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

  “Well, sew on the tag so we can declare this quilt officially finished,” Diane urged.

  Using an appliqué stitch, Sarah attached the tag to the back of the quilt in the lower-left-hand corner. She tied off the thread and rose, holding two corners of the quilt in outstretched arms. Mrs. Compson and Summer each took another corner, and the three women held the quilt open between them. The others stepped forward to look.

  Sarah’s first quilt was finished, and it was beautiful.

  Judy began to applaud and cheer, and the rest joined in.

  “You just finished your first quilt, Sarah,” Bonnie said. “How do you feel?”

  “Tired,” Sarah quipped, and the others laughed. Sarah realized she felt a little sad, too. She almost wished she hadn’t finished the quilt, because now she wouldn’t be able to work on it anymore.

  “What are you going to do for an encore?” Diane asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sarah said, then Mrs. Compson caught her eye. She was standing with an arm around Mrs. Emberly, smiling proudly at her student. Then again, maybe the perfect project already awaited her. Somewhere inside Elm Creek Manor there was a memorial quilt that needed to be completed.

  It was almost four o’clock when the Tangled Web Quilters finished gathering their things and loading their cars. They left thanking Mrs. Compson for the wonderful party and hoping they could do it again sometime. Mrs. Compson and Sarah stood on the back steps and waved to their departing guests as they drove away.

  Then they returned
inside and started cleaning up the mess.

  As Sarah finished washing the dishes, Mrs. Compson entered the kitchen carrying the last bundle of linens. “I’ll drop this off in the laundry room, but then let’s go sit outside on the veranda for a while. I’ll worry about the rest of this tomorrow.”

  Sarah drained the sink, dried her hands, and followed her outside. Mrs. Compson eased herself into one of the Adirondack chairs with a sigh. Sarah sat beside her on the floor and leaned back against the chair. Not speaking, they enjoyed the peaceful stillness of the sun-splashed front lawn and the distant forest, broken only by the soothing waterfall sound of the fountain and the music of songbirds.

  Then Sarah decided that she wasn’t likely to find a better time to speak. She turned and looked up at Mrs. Compson.

  “About that better offer I’m supposed to think up,” she said. “I can put on one of my interview suits and give you a formal proposal with visual aids and the works, or I can just tell you what I have in mind right now, as is. Which method would you prefer?”

  Twenty-Nine

  This will do,” Mrs. Compson said, folding her hands in her lap.

  Sarah rose and took the seat beside her. “You’re an art teacher, correct?”

  “If thirty years in the Allegheny County School District count for anything, yes.”

  “And you enjoyed giving that lecture for Gwen’s class, the party this weekend, and teaching me how to quilt, right?”

  Mrs. Compson nodded. “Especially your lessons.”

  “So I can conclude that you find fulfillment in many ways, three of the most significant being quilting, teaching, and being with people you care about, am I right?”

  “You demonstrate wisdom beyond your humble years.”

  “Thank you. I try. I also noticed that you paid particular attention to the Tangled Web Quilters’ conversation about the quilt camp they recently attended.”