“She said her dad made her come, and it was obvious that she didn’t want to be there.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Randy shook his head. “Most teenagers have other things they’d rather be doin’ besides sitting in a room with a bunch of women and one weird man, listening to the history of quilts.”
“B.J. isn’t weird,” Jennifer said protectively, although she had no idea why she felt the need to defend a man she barely knew. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say that the reason Erika’s dad made her take the class is because he wants her to learn something creative.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Randy reached for Jennifer’s hand. “Now, in answer to your question about the job hunting, I had no luck at all today. None of the restaurants in Sarasota need a cook right now. I’m thinkin’ I may have to start looking in Bradenton or one of the other towns nearby.”
“Maybe we should go back to Pennsylvania and move in with one of our folks,” she suggested.
He shook his head vigorously. “No way! I like the warm weather here, and I sure don’t miss those January temperatures in Pennsylvania. Besides, we moved to Sarasota for a new start and to be on our own, and one way or the other, we’re gonna make it work.”
C
HAPTER 6
Monday evening, B.J. sat in the living room of the small cottage he’d rented near the beach, looking at the pictures he’d taken of Lamar and Emma’s quilts after class on Saturday. He was pleased with how the photos had turned out and was even more impressed with the vivid shades and unusual designs. After B.J had taken the photos, he’d stayed awhile longer, visiting with Lamar and Emma. They’d even invited him to stay for lunch.
What a nice couple, B.J. thought. They had a welcoming home that reminded him of his grandparent’s house, where tempting aromas used to drift from the kitchen whenever Grandma had spent the day baking.
B.J. had considered sharing his health situation with the Millers during lunch but decided there wasn’t much point to that, since they couldn’t do anything to change his situation. They’d probably pity him, and B.J. didn’t want that. Sympathy wouldn’t change the fact that he was dying, nor would it make him feel better. He just wanted to make whatever time he had left seem as normal as possible.
B.J.’s cell phone rang, pulling his thoughts aside. He checked the caller ID. It was one of his daughters. “Hey, Jill. What’s up?”
“Hi, Dad. I’m calling to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine. How are you and the family?”
“We’re all good. Kenny and Diane miss their grandpa, though. When are you coming home?”
B.J. chuckled. “I’ve only been here a few days, and the quilt class I’m taking is for six weeks, so…”
“You’re taking a quilt class?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s not the kind of thing you’d expect me to do, huh?”
“It sure isn’t. What made you decide to take up quilting, Dad?”
He laughed again, hoping it didn’t sound forced. “I’m not planning to become a quilter, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just thought it would be interesting to learn how they’re made. I’m also hoping to do a few paintings of Amish quilts. Oh, and I took some pictures the other day after my first lesson. I’m using them as my guide while I paint.”
“Oh, I see. Well, the quilts I saw when we visited Arthur, Illinois, were beautiful, so I’m sure your paintings will be, too.”
“I hope so.” B.J. drew in a quick breath as he sank into a chair. Right about now, he felt as if he could use a nap.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Jill asked. “You sound tired, Dad.”
“Guess I am a little,” B.J. admitted, picking up the picture of Jill and her sister, Robyn, that he’d brought along. How much more time do I have to spend with them? he wondered. Should I have come here to Florida, knowing my time could be short?
Shaking his thoughts aside, B.J. said, “I got up early this morning to walk on the beach, and I’ve spent the rest of the day painting a seascape. I want to finish that before I get started on a quilt painting.”
“Sounds like you’re having fun.”
“Sure am. That’s why I came down here—to have fun and enjoy the sun.” B.J. stifled a yawn and put the framed picture back on the table.
“I’ll let you go, Dad, so you can rest. Talk to you again soon.”
“Okay, Jill. Tell the kids and your sister I said hello.” B.J. clicked off the phone and dropped his head forward into his hands. He felt like a heel keeping the truth from his daughters, but he wasn’t ready to tell them just yet.
“Hi, I’m Anna Lambright,” a young Amish woman with auburn hair peeking out from under her white head covering said to Kim.
Kim slipped on her work apron and extended her hand. She had the dinner shift this evening and had arrived at the restaurant a short time ago. “It’s nice to meet you, Anna. I’m Kim Morris. I assume you’re a waitress here, too?”
Anna nodded. “I’ve been working here for the last couple of months. I moved down from Middlebury, Indiana, with my friend Mandy Zimmerman.”
“Does Mandy work here, too?” Kim asked.
“Yes, but she worked the morning shift today.”
Kim smiled. “Maybe I’ll get the chance to meet her sometime.”
“I’m sure you will. We often have our shifts switched around, so one of these days you and Mandy will probably work the same hours.”
“Did your whole family move to Sarasota?” Kim questioned.
“No, they live in Middlebury, and I doubt that any of them would ever move here,” Anna replied. “My folks didn’t want me to move, but a woman I took quilting lessons from talked to them about it. After she explained that she and her husband were coming down here for the winter and would keep an eye on me, they finally agreed that I could go.” Anna’s eyebrows lowered. “I really don’t need anyone watching out for me. I’m nineteen years old, and I can take care of myself.”
“You took quilting lessons?” Kim asked.
“Yeah, but not ’cause I wanted to. My mom signed me up for the class.”
“I’m taking quilting lessons, too,” Kim said enthusiastically. “From an Amish lady who lives in Pinecraft.”
“Her name wouldn’t be Emma Miller, would it?”
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
“Emma’s the one who taught me how to quilt—only it was at her home in Shipshewana, Indiana,” Anna said. “She and her husband, Lamar, bought a place down here because Lamar has arthritis and needed to get out of the cold winter weather.”
“That makes good sense.” Kim glanced at her watch. “It’s been nice talking to you, Anna, but I’d better get to work.”
“Same here.” Anna gave Kim’s arm a tap. “See you around.”
Kim gave a nod, then moved into the dining room. Anna seemed nice. She hoped she would have the opportunity to get to know her better.
Noreen tapped her foot impatiently, glancing around the room and then back at her watch. She’d come to this Amish-style restaurant for supper and had been sitting at a table for ten minutes, waiting for a waitress. The place was crowded, and maybe they were short-handed, but that was no excuse for poor service. If someone didn’t come to her table in the next five minutes, she was leaving.
Finally, a young woman with short blond hair stepped up to her and said, “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”
“Yes, I certainly have.” Noreen studied the woman’s face. “Say, didn’t I meet you at the quilt class last Saturday?”
“Yes, I’m Kim, and your name is Noreen, right?”
Noreen nodded. “I didn’t realize you worked at this restaurant. I’ve been here several times and never saw you waiting tables before.”
Kim smiled cheerfully. “I started a few weeks ago.” She motioned to the menu. “Have you decided what you want to eat or drink?”
“I’d like the chicken pot pie with a dinner salad. Oh, and a glass of unsweetened iced tea with
a slice of lemon.”
“Okay, I’ll put your order in right away,” Kim said before hurrying away.
Noreen sighed. She hoped Kim didn’t take as long to bring her meal as she had to wait on her. She may have said something to her about it if it hadn’t been for the fact that she and Kim were taking the same quilting class. Kim seemed like a nice person, and there was no point in causing dissension between them, especially since they’d be spending the next five Saturdays together.
Noreen glanced around the dining room again, wondering if she knew anyone else here. She didn’t recognize anyone in the sea of faces.
A short time later, Kim returned with a glass of iced tea, which she placed on the table.
Noreen picked it up and took a drink. “Eww…there’s sweetener in this. If you’ll recall, I asked for unsweetened tea.”
Kim’s cheeks reddened. “I am so sorry about that. I must have written it wrong on the order pad. I’ll get you another one right away.” She picked up the glass and hurried away.
Noreen crossed her arms and stared at the table. At this rate she’d never get anything.
Finally Kim showed up again. “Here you are, Noreen.” When she reached over to set the glass down, it wobbled and tipped, spilling some of the iced tea onto the table. The next thing Noreen knew, the icy cold liquid had dribbled onto her beige-colored slacks. “Oh no,” she groaned, heat rising to her cheeks. “This is probably going to leave a nasty stain!”
“I’m sorry again.” Kim grabbed some napkins and began wiping up the tea on the table, as Noreen blotted her slacks. “If you can’t get the stain out, I’ll buy you a new pair of slacks. Just please don’t say anything to my boss.”
Noreen could tell from the way Kim glanced over her shoulder that she was fearful of losing her job. “I won’t say anything,” Noreen promised. “Just relax. If I can’t get the stain out, I’ll let you know when we meet at the quilt class this Saturday.”
“Oh, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost this job.” Kim blew out her breath with obvious relief.
“Would you please pass the parmesan cheese?” Phyllis asked her husband as they sat on their deck together, eating supper.
Mike stared absently at his plate of spaghetti.
“Did you hear what I said, Mike? I asked you to pass the cheese.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” He handed her the jar and leaned back in his chair with a groan. “I know you worked hard making supper, honey, but I’m not really hungry tonight.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been tossing and turning in your sleep lately. Are you still stressing over your boat?” Phyllis questioned.
Mike grunted. “How can I not be stressed? There’s more wrong with it than I was originally told, and now it looks like it’s gonna be out of commission for at least five weeks. Maybe longer.”
“Try not to worry,” she said. “We have enough in our savings to get us by till you’re able to start working again.”
“It’s not just the money, Phyllis. I’m bored out of mind. All this sitting around doing nothing is making me feel like a slug.” He thumped his stomach. “Think I’m gaining weight, too. All I seem to want to do is nibble. Then I’m not hungry at mealtime.”
The phone rang, interrupting their conversation. “Want me to get it?” Phyllis asked, rising from her seat.
Mike nodded. “I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.”
Phyllis hurried into the other room. When she returned several minutes later, her brows were furrowed.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Mike asked. “You look upset.”
“It’s my sister, Penny. She slipped on the wet grass when she went out to get the mail this morning and broke her leg.”
“That’s too bad.” Mike reached for his glass of water and took a drink. “Is she gonna be okay?”
“I’m sure her leg will heal, but she’ll be wearing a cast for six weeks and could really use some assistance.” Phyllis placed her hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Would you mind very much if I went there to help out?”
“How long would you be gone?” he asked.
“Until she’s out of her cast and able to get around on her own. Would you like to go with me, Mike? It might be a good time for you to get away while your boat is being fixed.”
He shook his head. “Think I need to stick around here in case the boat gets fixed sooner than expected.”
“Do you have any objections if I go? Penny said she’d pay for my plane ticket to North Dakota, but I’d be there for several weeks. Do you think you can survive without me for that long?”
“You go ahead and take care of your sister; that’s important—especially since she lives alone. I’ll miss you, of course, but I think I can manage okay while you’re gone.”
Phyllis smiled. “Great. I’ll call Penny back and let her know.” She started for the door but turned back around. “Oh. I forgot about the quilting class.”
“Just call the teacher and tell her something’s come up and you can’t finish the class.”
“But I paid for it already, Mike.” Phyllis moved back to the table. “Would you go in my place?”
“To the quilt class?”
“Of course. That’s what I was talking about. Weren’t you listening, Mike?”
“Yeah, I was listening.”
“Then would you finish the classes for me?”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not. You don’t have much else to do while you’re waiting for the boat to be fixed, so I thought—”
Mike held up his hand. “Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know a thing about quilting, Phyllis.”
“Neither do I, but I was planning to learn, and if you go in my place, you can show me what you’ve learned after I get home. Just think, Mike, we could quilt together and maybe make one for each of our daughters for Christmas next year.” She leaned over and kissed his neck. “If you do this for me, when your boat gets fixed and you get your next paying customer, I’ll go out with you and act as your bait boy.”
He hesitated but finally nodded. “All right then, it’s a deal. After all, how hard can quilting be?”
C
HAPTER 7
Emma had just taken a seat at her sewing machine to begin work on a quilt, when Lamar came into the room. “I know you’re busy, but could I talk to you for a minute, Emma?” he asked.
“Of course.” She set her sewing aside and turned to face him. “I wanted to ask you something, too, but you go first.”
He shifted his weight a couple of times, like he did whenever he was nervous or unsure of something.
Emma felt immediate concern. “What is it, Lamar? Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “Not wrong; I just have a favor to ask.”
“What’s that?”
“My friend Melvin Weaver wants to hire a driver and go down to Venice tomorrow to look for sharks’ teeth, and he invited me to go along.”
“But tomorrow is Saturday—our second quilt class, remember?” Emma reminded.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, scrubbing his hand down the side of his bearded face. “I just thought…. Well, if you think you can get along without me tomorrow, I’d like to go with Melvin. If not, then I’ll go some other time. Maybe you and I can hire a driver and look for sharks’ teeth together. Doesn’t that sound like fun to you?”
“It’s okay, Lamar. You go ahead. I’ll manage without your help on Saturday. After all, before I married you, I used to teach the classes on my own. And as far as me hunting for sharks’ teeth…Well, I’ve heard how it’s done, and the idea of standing in the surf, sifting through the sand with a bulky scoop, seems like hard work to me. Think I’d rather stay here and quilt.” Emma pursed her lips. “My only concern about you being gone this Saturday is that it’ll mean B.J. will be the only man in class. He might feel uncomfortable with that.”
Lamar’s forehead wrinkled. “I never thought of that. Maybe it wou
ld be better if I stayed here to help you. I can go hunting for sharks’ teeth some other time.”
“Are you sure about that?” Emma asked. “I don’t like to disappoint you.”
“It’s okay, really,” he said with a nod of his head. “I promised to help you teach this group of quilters, and that’s what I’m gonna do. I’ll get in touch with Melvin and take a rain check with him on that.”
Emma smiled. Like her first husband, Ivan, Lamar was a kind, caring man. She felt fortunate to have found love a second time.
“Now what was it you were going to ask me?” Lamar questioned, turning to look out the window.
“I was going to ask if you could pick some of the oranges from our tree later today or even tomorrow morning. I thought it would be nice to share some of them with everyone at the quilt class.”
“Sure thing. I was just about ready to pick us each one for a snack later on. If they’re ripe enough, I’ll pick some in the morning for everyone.” Lamar rubbed his hands briskly together. “Weren’t we lucky that this house had an orange tree in the backyard?”
Emma nodded. “It’ll be nice to send a healthy snack home with everyone tomorrow after class.”
Mike groaned as he rolled out of bed on Saturday morning, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to take Phyllis’s place at the quilt class in Pinecraft. “I must have been out of mind,” he muttered. The only good thing was that Phyllis had told him one of the teachers was a man and that another man was also taking the class, so Mike figured that might help him feel less out of place. Of course, he didn’t know a thing about sewing, nor did he want to know how to quilt. No matter what Phyllis thought, as far as Mike was concerned, anything that involved a needle and thread was for women, not a man who felt more at home on his boat than anywhere else.
Mike’s cell phone rang, and he picked it up off the dresser. After checking the caller ID, and realizing it was Phyllis, he answered. “Hi, honey. How’s your sister doing?”
“Penny’s still in a lot of pain, but she’s so appreciative that I’m here to help out. Thanks for allowing me to do this, Mike.”
The Healing Quilt Page 4