Noreen drew in a calming voice. All eyes and ears seemed to be upon her, and she wished she could crawl under the table. “My sister is dead. She died from complications during childbirth.” She choked back the sob rising in her throat. Even after all these years, it was difficult to talk about. Now, with the father of Judy’s son staring at her from across the table, it was more painful than she ever thought possible.
B.J. winced as though he’d been slapped. “I—I’m so sorry about Judy. I had no idea. Why didn’t someone tell me this?”
“Would you have cared?” Noreen asked, searching through her tote bag for a tissue.
“Of course I would, and I still do.” He paused and clutched his chest, as though in pain. “What about the baby? Did he die, too?”
Noreen was tempted to say that Bruce’s son had also died, but she had a feeling he’d be able to see through her lie. “Judy’s baby was adopted by a good family,” she said, blowing her nose and dropping her gaze to the table.
“Do you know who they are? Do you have any information about the boy’s whereabouts?”
“No, I do not, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Dabbing at the moisture beneath her eyes, Noreen picked up her scissors to finish cutting the batting.
B.J.’s eyes narrowed. “I think you do know where he is. I have a feeling you’re keeping it from me.”
She shook her head vigorously. “I’ve told you all that I know. If you had wanted to be a part of your son’s life, then you shouldn’t have run off like you did.”
His jaw clenched. “I told you I did not know Judy was pregnant.”
Mike cleared his throat real loud, and everyone turned to look at him. “It’s obvious that you two have some issues, but this isn’t the place to be airing them out. The rest of us came here to learn how to quilt, and you’re taking up our time with your personal problems. You oughta deal with all of this after class. I can’t speak for everyone else, but you two going back and forth at each other is making me uncomfortable.”
“Mike is right,” Erika spoke up. “This isn’t the place to be airing out your differences.”
“Actually, it might be exactly the place,” Jan interjected. “During the quilt classes I took at Emma’s home up in Shipshe, everyone in the class had some sort of problem. We were all like a bunch of broken shells on the beach, and it seemed like there was no way to put the pieces together. But once we started talkin’ about things, we felt better.” Jan looked at Emma and smiled. “Our special teacher here not only taught us how to quilt, but gave us spiritual guidance as well.”
“I take no credit for that,” Emma was quick to say. “It was the Lord, guiding and directing my words. And because my students were open to change, He was able to heal hearts and give those who’d been hurting a new perspective.” She paused a moment. “In Ezekiel 34:16 it says, ‘I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away, and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick, saith the Lord God.’”
“That’s a great verse, Emma,” Jan said. “I think many of your students, includin’ yours truly, were broken people in need of healing.”
Noreen’s shoulders stiffened, wishing she could flee the room. Well, she’d run out last week, but she wouldn’t do it again. It would be a sign of weakness. “I don’t need any guidance, or a new perspective,” she muttered. “I signed up for these classes to learn how to quilt, and for no other reason. So let’s get on with our lesson.”
Emma looked at Lamar, hoping he might say something, but all he gave was a quick nod. Assuming that meant she should proceed with the lesson, Emma waited while everyone worked on their batting, and she sent up a silent prayer that this class would end on a good note. She never dreamed her quilt classes would hold so many surprises, but it seemed that each one of them had so far. Well, at least these quilting students were finally beginning to open up. She just hoped it would end with healing. For now, though, she needed to concentrate on teaching today’s lesson.
Once Emma saw that everyone had finished cutting their batting, she held up one of the small wooden frames Lamar had made. “In order to create a smooth, even quilting surface, all three layers of your quilt will need to be put in a frame like this,” she said. “If you were making a larger quilt, you would need a quilting frame that could stretch the entire quilt at one time.” Emma paused to be sure everyone was listening; then she continued. “Since your wall hangings are much smaller than a full-size quilt, you can use a smaller frame such as this.”
“That looks sort of like the embroidery hoop I’ve seen my grandma use,” Jennifer said.
Emma nodded. “That’s correct, and it’s important when using this type of hoop to baste your entire quilt together through all three layers. This will keep the layers stretched tightly while you are quilting.”
“Just be sure you don’t quilt over the basting,” Lamar added. “Because it will be hard to remove later on.” He snickered. “Oh, and be careful not to stitch your blouse or shirt to the quilt, like one of our previous students did.”
Jan rolled his eyes. “I’ll bet it was my buddy Terry. That sounds like something he’d end up doing.”
“You’re right. That did happen to Terry,” Emma agreed.
Jan slapped his knee. “Figured as much.”
Emma then told the class about needle sizes, pointing out that it was best to try several and see which one seemed the most comfortable to use. “It’s also a good idea to use a thimble on your middle finger for pushing the quilting needle, because the needle has to go through three layers of fabric to create the quilting pattern.” Following that, she passed around a tray full of various thimbles. “Now, if everyone will choose a needle and thimble, you can begin the quilting process.”
Emma waited until everyone had done as she asked, the whole time watching the body language between Noreen and B.J. They obviously both carried a lot of pain, and perhaps some serious regrets. She hoped they would be able to work it out and prayed that God would show Lamar and her if there was anything they could do. The Lord seemed to be using this quilt class already, by bringing B.J. and Noreen together after all these years. It had happened before, when Star and Jan learned they were father and daughter during Emma’s first set of quilting classes. Then last year, Emma had been reunited with her sister, Betty, whom she hadn’t even known about. Surely it was no coincidence in how that had all happened. If Noreen and B.J. could just set their hostilities aside and talk things through, perhaps their reunion might turn into something good.
Setting aside her thoughts, Emma explained that the next step would be to mark the design they wanted on their quilt top. “However,” she added, “if you just want to outline the patches you’ve sewn with quilting stitches, no marking is necessary.”
“You’ll need to quilt close to the seam so the patch will be emphasized,” Lamar interjected. “Oh, and don’t forget, your stitches should be small and even. They also need to be snug but not so tight that they’ll cause any puckering.”
“I’ll demonstrate on my own quilt patch,” Emma said, picking it up and showing everyone the correct way to pull the needle and thread through the material to create the quilting pattern.
Mike’s forehead wrinkled. “That looks too hard for me. My hands are big and the only thing I’ve ever sewn is a button on my shirt—and Phyllis had to help me with that.”
“Speaking of Phyllis, how is her sister doing these days?” Emma asked.
“Better, but her leg’s not healed well enough so she can be on her own yet,” Mike replied. “They’ve been having some nasty weather in North Dakota lately, so Phyllis won’t come home until she’s sure Penny can manage okay without her.”
“That’s understandable,” Kim spoke up. “It would be bad enough to be laid up with a broken leg, but trying to get around on crutches while wearing a cast could be dangerous, not to mention difficult.”
“You’ve got that right,” Mike agreed.
“Can we get back to our lesson now?” Noreen looked at Emma. “Will we be expected to finish the quilting process today?”
Emma shook her head. “Whatever you don’t get done can be finished next week. During our final lesson, you will finish your wall hanging by putting the binding on.” Emma glanced at B.J., who now seemed almost subdued as he continued to work on his project. “Now if any of you needs help today, just let either Lamar or me know.” Emma motioned to Jan, sitting close to Kim. “I’m sure Jan would be willing to help out, too, since he’s taken the class and is familiar with the procedure.”
“I’d be more than willing to help.” Jan smiled at Kim. “So don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.”
She smiled in return. “Thanks, Jan. If I keep sticking myself with this needle, I may turn the whole project over to you.”
He shook his head. “Naw, you’re doin’ just fine.”
Emma moved over to stand beside Erika. “How are things going with you? Are you getting the feel for quilting?”
Erika shrugged. “I guess so. It seems easy enough.”
“Not for me,” Mike said. “I’m all thumbs. Some people think baiting a hook is hard, but that’s nothin’ compared to quilting.”
“It just takes practice,” Emma said. She gave Erika’s shoulders a tender squeeze. “What you’ve done so far looks very nice. I think you have a knack for quilting.”
Erika looked over her shoulder at Emma, and the faintest smile crossed her lips. “Thanks.”
At least that’s a step in the right direction, Emma thought as she moved back to the head of the table. Now if we could just help Noreen and B.J. resolve their differences, I’d feel a lot better about things today.
C
HAPTER 27
At eleven o’clock, Emma suggested that everyone stop quilting and she served a snack of orange slices, fresh strawberries, and banana bread. That was fine with Jennifer. Her back was beginning to ache from sitting so long, and it made her uncomfortable to witness the undercurrent going on between B.J. and Noreen. Every time B.J. asked Emma a question or needed help with his stitching, Noreen said something derogatory.
That poor man, Jennifer thought as she bit into a juicy strawberry. I wonder if he and Noreen can work out their differences. Everyone makes mistakes. Besides, it doesn’t sound like B.J. knew anything about the consequences of his actions years ago.
Walking around for a bit to get the kinks out of her legs and back, Jennifer looked around the tidy room that Emma kept. A battery-operated clock on one wall, a quilted wall hanging on another—and then there were the sewing machines, lined up in a row along the windowed wall, with the table they’d all been sitting around in the center of the room. There was no clutter, for everything in the room seemed to have a purpose.
Jennifer pressed on the small of her back, and it relieved the pain somewhat. She was definitely ready for this baby to be born.
Her thoughts shifted as she looked at the clock on the far wall. She could hardly wait to get home today to talk to Randy and find out how things went at the restaurant. She was almost afraid to ask, but oh, how she hoped he’d gotten that job.
“If everyone is finished with their refreshments you can continue working on your quilting projects,” Emma instructed her students.
“I’m finished and ready to get back to work.” Noreen pushed away from the table. “But let me help you carry the empty plates to the kitchen.”
Emma’s first thought was to tell Noreen that she could manage the dishes on her own, but thinking this would be a good opportunity to speak with her about B.J., she changed her mind. “Thank you, Noreen. I appreciate that.”
“I can carry some dishes, too,” Kim spoke up.
“That’s alright,” Emma said with a shake of her head. “I appreciate your offer to help, but there aren’t many dishes, so I think Noreen and I can manage just fine.”
“Oh, okay.” Kim sat back down, and Emma and Noreen gathered up the dishes and left the room.
When they entered the kitchen, Emma told Noreen that she could put the dishes in the sink. “I’ll wash them later this afternoon.”
“How do you deal with not having a dishwasher?” Noreen asked, looking around the room.
Emma laughed. “I can’t miss what I’ve never had. Why, I’ve been washing dishes by hand since I was a young girl. When my sister, Rachel, and I were too short to reach the sink, we had stools to stand on.”
Noreen grimaced. “Before I got married, I used to wash dishes by hand, too, but it was definitely not my favorite thing to do.”
“I guess we all have chores we’d rather not do.”
Noreen gave a nod. “I suppose I should go back and get busy on my wall hanging. I don’t want to get behind.”
When Noreen started for the door, Emma quickly said, “Before you go, there’s something I’d like to say.”
“What’s that, Emma?” Noreen asked, turning to face her.
Emma moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, hoping her words would be well-received. “I don’t mean to interfere, and I’m not trying to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but I wanted you to know that should you need to talk about your situation with B.J., I’m here to listen.”
Lowering her gaze to the floor, Noreen quietly said, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then she hurried into the next room.
Emma stayed in the kitchen a few moments longer, offering a prayer on Noreen’s behalf. She obviously didn’t want to discuss the situation, so Emma would just keep praying.
“You’re doin’ a great job with that,” Jan said, leaning over Kim’s shoulder.
She smiled up at him. “Thanks. The stitching is a little tedious, but it’s fun to be creative like this.”
“I know what you mean,” he agreed. “When I took Emma’s quilting class, on the advice of my probation officer, I think some of the other students thought it was kinda weird to see a big guy like me with a needle and thread in his hands.”
“You were on probation?” Erika jumped into the conversation.
Jan gave a nod.
“What’d you do?”
“Got busted for a DUI. Do you know what that means, Erika?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. I may be disabled, but I’m not stupid.”
“Never said you were.” Jan grunted. “You’re too sensitive about bein’ in that wheelchair, if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t ask,” she shot back.
Emma quickly stepped forward and said, “We only have a few minutes left today, so if anyone has a question, now is a good time to ask.”
Erika lifted her hand.
“What’s your question?” Emma asked.
“What are we supposed to do with our wall hangings after they’re done?”
“Whatever you like.” Emma smiled. “I’m sure most of you will want to keep yours, but of course, if you want to give the finished project to someone as a gift, that’s perfectly fine, too.”
“I might give mine to the hospital where my dad works,” Erika said. “I think it would look nice hanging in the waiting room inside the children’s wing. That’s why I’m including a smiley face in the center of my wall hanging.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Lamar spoke up. “Don’t you think so, Emma?”
Emma nodded. It was good to see Erika coming out of her shell. And the fact that she wanted to give her wall hanging away was a good indication that she was thinking beyond her own struggles.
“Erika, now that you know how to sew, maybe you could make some other things the children at the hospital could enjoy,” Emma said.
Erika tipped her head. “Like what?”
“What about some cloth dolls?” Jennifer suggested. “I’ll bet any of the little girl patients would like to have a doll to play with and cuddle.”
“That’s a good idea. What do you think about that, Erika?” Emma questioned.
Erika shrugged. “I’ll give it some t
hought.”
Well, at least she didn’t say no, Emma thought.
When Emma announced that class was over for the day, Noreen gathered up her things and skirted out the door. B.J. felt a sense of panic. He needed to talk to Noreen and try to find out more about his son. He felt sure she was hiding something.
Mumbling a quick good-bye to Emma and Lamar, B.J. rushed out the door. Seeing that Noreen was already at her car and about to get in, he hollered, “Please, wait, Noreen! I need to speak with you.”
Ignoring him, she jerked the car door open, but she dropped her purse and half of the belongings fell out. She bent to pick it up, throwing the contents back in, giving B.J. time to step up to her car.
“Here, you forgot this,” B.J. said, bending down to get the tube of lipstick that had rolled slightly under her car.
“I saw it.” Noreen grabbed the tube when he handed it to her and threw it in her purse. B.J. noticed how she wouldn’t even look at him, even though they were hunkered down, face-to-face.
“What are you afraid of, Noreen?” he asked. “Why won’t you tell me more about Judy’s death and the child you said was adopted?”
As Noreen rose to her feet, the turban on her head caught on the edge of the car door and ripped right off. “Oh no!” she gasped, as her midnight-black tresses tumbled out. “Now look what you made me do!”
B.J. bent to pick up the turban that had fallen on the ground. If he hadn’t been so concerned about getting answers from her about Judy and their child, he might have laughed, seeing Noreen standing there like that. Laughing at her was the last thing he wanted to do, however. She was already mad enough at him. No wonder she’d worn the turban to the last two quilt classes. Apparently she’d dyed her hair black and didn’t want any of the quilting students to see it. Well, he couldn’t blame her for that. It looked terrible!
“Give me that!” Noreen snatched the turban out of B.J.’s hands, hopped into her car, and slammed the door. Then she started her engine and peeled out of the driveway in a spray of gravel. B.J.’s shoulders slumped. At this rate he would never get the answers he sought.
The Healing Quilt Page 17