As Ruby Lee’s fingers glided easily over the piano keys, she continued to play the rest of the song. No longer able to sing, her thoughts went to the quilting class she’d attended last Saturday. Emma Yoder seemed like such a pleasant, patient person. The kind she could easily make her friend.
In two days she would be going to Emma’s house for another lesson, and Ruby Lee wondered how things would go. Too bad I’m not Emma’s only student, she thought wistfully. It would be easier to learn quilting if the others weren’t there, asking so many unnecessary questions and making catty remarks, the way Stuart Johnston did last week.
It didn’t take a genius to see that Pam and Stuart’s marriage was strained—maybe even in deep trouble. During Gene’s years of preaching, he’d counseled many couples with marriage problems. Some listened to his advice, and others continued down the same old path that had brought them to his office for counseling. A good marriage took commitment and a desire to meet the needs of one’s spouse. When selfishness and always wanting to have one’s own way took over, it spelled trouble. And from what Ruby Lee had seen during the quilt class, both Pam and Stuart had issues they were dealing with—issues that had affected their marriage.
Then there was the young woman who called herself Star. From the way she talked, and her whole demeanor, it had been obvious to Ruby Lee that Star had a chip on her shoulder and probably needed to let her defenses down. Ruby Lee wondered why Star had worn a black sweatshirt with the hood up on her head the whole time they’d been in class. Was she trying to make some kind of statement, hiding something under that hood? Or could the defiant young woman be one of those “gothic” people Ruby Lee had seen around town? Star was a pretty girl, so why she would hide her natural beauty was a bit baffling to Ruby Lee. Perhaps Star needed some counseling, too.
The biker with the big biceps probably had a few issues as well. But with the exception of his encounter with Stuart, Jan had seemed fairly easygoing. And even though Jan looked like the type who might punch someone in the nose if they looked at him the wrong way, Ruby Lee had a hunch that he was a really just a big ole softy with a heart of gold.
The young Hispanic schoolteacher who’d recently lost his wife seemed fairly stable, yet Ruby Lee figured he must still be hurting pretty bad. Who wouldn’t hurt if they’d lost their spouse and been left with a baby to raise? It was a shame that Paul’s little girl would grow up never knowing her mother.
I should be very kind to these people, she thought. I’m a pastor’s wife, and it’s my duty to set a good example to others. But how can I do that when I feel so angry and depressed myself?
Ruby Lee leaned forward, resting her forehead on the piano keys. If You will, God, please give me a sense of peace.
As Star left the Goshen Walmart after working the early-morning shift where she stocked shelves, she frowned. It was raining hard, and by the time she reached her car, she was soaking wet.
Well, let it rain, she thought. I have no place but home to go today anyway. Still, she didn’t care for this drenching wet weather. It was depressing, and when it rained, she didn’t like being cooped up inside.
Star thought she might spend the rest of the day cutting out the pieces for the star pattern that would be in the center of her wall hanging. After that was done, she hoped to get some more lyrics written on the song she’d started a few weeks ago. Maybe someday she would find a way to get some of her music published. Maybe someday her musical abilities would be recognized. But for now, she’d have to be content with playing her guitar and singing her songs at the coffee shop in downtown Goshen on Friday nights. Some of the kids from the local college hung out there, and a few performed on the little stage; although no one but Star sang original songs.
Who knows? Star thought as she started her car’s engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Maybe the right person will be sitting in the coffee shop some night, and I’ll get discovered.
She let go of the steering wheel with one hand and slapped the side of her head. Dumb. Stupid. Like that’s ever gonna happen. I’m just a nobody who no one cares about. It’s just like Mom always says: I’m full of big ideas that will never come true. And now that Grandma’s gone, I’ll probably never find anyone who truly loves me for the person I am. I’ll always be lost—like a falling star that nobody ever noticed.
Some new words to one of the songs she’d been working on popped into Star’s head, and she began to sing in a whispered tone: “It’s hard to breathe; it’s hard to sleep; it’s hard to know who you are when you’re a lost and falling star.”
CHAPTER 9
Mishawaka, Indiana
I’m ready to work on my quilt project now,” Pam called to Stuart, who sat on the sofa in the family room watching TV with his feet propped on the coffee table.
No reply.
“Stuart, are you listening to me?”
Still no response.
Pam pushed her son’s toy truck out of the way with her foot and stepped in front of the TV.
“Hey! You’re blocking my view.” Stuart gave Pam a determined, angry look and waved her away.
She stood firm, both hands on her hips. “It’s the only way I can get your attention.”
“What do you want?” He peered around her to look at the TV.
She moved to the right so his view was still blocked. “I said I’m ready to work on my quilting project now.”
“That’s nice. Would you please move out of my way?”
Pointing a finger in his direction, Pam felt her face heat. “The next quilt class is only two days away, and you promised we could work on our wall hangings together this evening.”
Stuart shook his head. “I never promised anything of the sort. You said you wanted to work on your quilt project, and I said that was fine with me.” He pointed to the TV. “I’m watching a baseball game. At least I was until you interrupted me.”
Pam’s irritation mounted. “If you don’t work on your project tonight, you won’t have the first phase of your wall hanging done before Saturday.”
“I’ll work on it tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow’s Devin’s piano recital, and afterwards, we’re taking the kids out for ice cream. Remember?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. Okay then, I’ll work on the stupid wall hanging Saturday morning—before we head to Shipshewana.” He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Or maybe I won’t work on it at all. Maybe I won’t even go this week. I might sleep in on Saturday.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’d better not go back on your word.”
He leaned to the left, craning his neck to see the TV again. “Oh, great! I missed that last play, and now the other team is up to bat.”
Pam gritted her teeth. “Why is it that baseball is more important than me?”
“It’s not.”
“Yes it is. If it wasn’t, you’d turn off the TV, come into the dining room, and cut out the material for your star pattern. We can visit while we cut and pin the pieces in place.”
Stuart’s face tightened and tiny wrinkles formed across his forehead. “Look, Pam, when you went fishing with me, you didn’t have to do anything before we went.”
“And your point is?”
“I didn’t expect you to dig worms for bait or even get the fishing gear out of the closet. I did all those things for you. All you had to do was sit in the boat and fish.”
Her irritation increased. “Are you saying you think I should work on my quilt project and yours, too?”
A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “That’d be nice.”
“Oh sure! Then you can just show up at Emma’s on Saturday with a big smile on your face and let everyone think you’d done what she asked.”
He shrugged.
“If you don’t want to do your homework, that’s up to you, but don’t expect me to do it for you!” Pam turned on her heels and stomped out of the room. She didn’t think any amount of counseling or doing things together would save their marriage
. They were heading down a one-way street, and unless a miracle transpired, she feared their journey might end in divorce.
Elkhart
“Could this week get any worse?” Paul grumbled while his daughter fussed in her playpen. A parent/teacher conference one night and a meeting with the school principal the next evening was just too much for one week. Both times Paul had asked Carla, a teenager from church, to watch Sophia. Carla seemed capable enough, but both evenings when he’d arrived home, Sophia had been sobbing. It was bad enough that he had to drop his little girl off at the day care center every morning before school. He wished he didn’t have to leave her with a sitter whenever he had to be away during the evening. He wished, too, that his sister, Maria, could watch Sophia all the time, but with her part-time job at the bank, plus caring for her three active girls, that just wasn’t possible. On the days Paul took Sophia to day care, she still cried as soon as he pulled up in front of the building. It nearly broke his heart when she reached her little arms out, as though begging him to stay.
Paul hoped Maria could watch Sophia on the remaining Saturdays he’d be attending the quilt classes so he wouldn’t have to take her along, like he’d done last week, or worse yet, leave her with a sitter she didn’t know. Even though Sophia had been good during the two hours they were at Emma’s, it had been hard for Paul to concentrate on all that Emma had been trying to teach them. It was important for him to learn some quilting techniques, since he’d decided that he would definitely try to finish the quilt for Sophia, and he hoped by doing so it might bring him some closure.
Tonight, Paul was thankful to be home, but he had some papers to grade. Sophia was in the dining room with him, but she wasn’t happy being in the playpen rather than on her daddy’s lap, like she was accustomed to doing most evenings. Still, it was better than having someone else watch her.
“Oh Lorinda,” Paul whispered, rubbing a sore spot on his forehead. “How I wish you were here with me right now, holding our precious baby daughter.”
Shipshewana
Emma had just taken a seat in front of her treadle sewing machine when she heard the back door swing open. A few seconds later, her eight-year-old granddaughter, Lisa, skipped into the room.
“Daadi built a bonfire out back, and we’re gonna roast hot dogs and marshmallows soon,” the blond-haired, blue-eyed little girl announced. “Would you like to come over and eat with us, Grossmammi?”
Emma smiled and gave Lisa a hug. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve already had my supper.”
“Then come for some marshmallows.” Lisa grinned up at Emma and smacked her lips. “They taste wunderbaar gut.”
“I think marshmallows are wonderful good, too, but I’m busy sewing right now. Maybe some other time when your daed builds a bonfire I can join you,” Emma said.
Lisa’s lower lip protruded in a pout. Emma hated to disappoint the child, but if she didn’t get the piecing done on this quilt, she’d never have it finished in time for the benefit auction that would be held in a few months. She also hadn’t quite completed the quilt for the fall wedding she would attend. Still, she didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to be with some of her family.
She patted her granddaughter’s arm. “I’ll be over later on, after I get some sewing done. How’s that sound?”
A wide smile stretched across Lisa’s face. “Sew real fast, grossmammi!”
Emma smiled as the rosy-cheeked little girl scampered out of the room. It was nice living so close to Mary and her family. Not only could they be there whenever she had a need, but almost always someone was at home next door for Emma to visit when she felt lonely. Other times, especially during the warmer months when her windows were open, it was nice just hearing her grandchildren on the other side of the fence, laughing and playing in their yard. It made her feel connected to them.
For the next hour, Emma worked on the quilt. As she sewed, she thought about her upcoming quilt class. She hoped it would go better than last week’s had, and that everyone would take an active interest in the things she planned to teach. Last Saturday, when Stuart had fallen asleep, she’d been worried that he might be bored or hadn’t understood what she’d been trying to explain. Even though Emma knew a lot about quilting, she wasn’t sure she’d presented the information clearly or interestingly enough. She would make sure to go a little slower this week and not let her nerves take over. And hopefully there would be no interruptions, like Maggie getting out of her pen, or Stuart and Jan exchanging heated words and nearly getting into a fight. Emma had found that most unsettling.
Emma’s thoughts came to a halt when she heard the wail of a siren, which seemed to be drawing closer all the time. When she saw red lights flashing through the window and realized they were coming up the driveway that separated her home from Mary’s, she became very concerned.
She sniffed the air. Is that smoke I smell?
Hurrying to the window, Emma gasped as two fire trucks pulled in. Moving to the side window, she noticed smoke and flames coming from the shed where her son-in-law kept their wood and gardening tools. The shed wasn’t far from the barn, and Emma feared that if they didn’t get the fire out soon, the barn might also catch on fire.
With a quick yet fervent prayer for everyone’s safety, Emma rushed out the back door as the sound of crackling wood reached her ears.
CHAPTER 10
Goshen
Star had just sat down at the kitchen table to cut out her pattern pieces when Mom entered the room.
“I just looked over the movie schedule,” Mom said, holding the newspaper out to Star. “That new romantic comedy we’ve seen advertised on TV is playing at Linway Cinema 14. Would you like to go?”
Star shook her head. “No, I’m good. I’m just gonna hang out here tonight.”
“Doing what?”
“I’ll be busy cutting out the pattern pieces that will make up my wall hanging. Gotta have this first part done before Saturday.” She pointed to the black-and-gold material she’d chosen.
Mom’s eyebrows drew together as she frowned. “I still think it’s a dumb idea for you to waste your time on that quilt class.”
Star gritted her teeth. Not this again. So much for trying to impress Mom with something I’m doing. “Grandma wanted me to go, or she wouldn’t have reserved a spot for me.”
Mom looked at Star like she still didn’t get it.
“I miss Grandma, and taking the class so I can learn how to quilt makes me feel closer to her,” Star said.
“You can miss her all you want, but I’m the only parent you have, and you ought to appreciate me and be willing to spend some time together when we have the chance.”
“I’d spend more time with you if we liked more of the same things.” What Star really wanted to say was, “Yeah, like all the time you spent with me when I was growing up?” But she couldn’t get the spiteful words out of her mouth.
“What kind of things are you talking about?” Mom asked.
Star placed her scissors on the table and looked up at Mom. “I like to play the guitar, sing, and write songs, and you don’t like music at all,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. One thing she didn’t need this evening was a blowup with Mom. They had those too often as it was.
“That’s not true. I just don’t care for the kind of music you sing and play.”
Star’s defenses began to rise, despite her resolve to keep things calm. “And just what do you think’s wrong with my music?”
“It’s slow and the lyrics you write are depressing.”
“Maybe that’s because I feel depressed a lot of the time.”
Mom folded her arms and glared at Star. “You have nothing more to be depressed about than I do, but I don’t go around singing doom and gloom.”
Star clenched her piece of material so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “It’s not doom and gloom. I’m just expressing the way I feel.”
“And how is that?”
“Alone and unloved.”
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“You have no call to feel unloved. Ever since you were a baby, I’ve taken care of you. That’s more than I can say for—”
Star lifted her hand. “Let’s not even go there, Mom. I’ve heard the old story so many times I know every word by heart.”
“Well, good. Then you ought to appreciate the sacrifices I’ve made for you and get that chip off your shoulder.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Star figured there was no point in saying anything more. Mom had raised her single-handedly and thought she deserved the Mother-of-the-Year award. Anything more Star had to say would only fall on deaf ears.
Deciding this might be a good time to change the subject, Star said, “You know, Mom, it wouldn’t hurt you to do something creative, something different for a change. I’ve actually met some rather interesting people at the quilt class. I really think I’m gonna enjoy getting to know them all better, too—especially Emma; she really seems nice.”
“You, making friends? You’ve pushed people away most of your life. What’s different now?”
“Well, there must be a reason Grandma wanted me to learn how to quilt. Who knows—maybe it goes beyond quilting; and to tell you the truth, I’m kind of anxious to find out.”
“Is that so?” Mom put her hands on her hips. “Well, we’ll just see how long that lasts.”
“Boy, Mom, you can be so negative.” Star flipped the ends of her hair over her shoulder. “I really don’t care what you think. I have a feeling that Emma’s classes are just what I need right now. Learning to quilt could even be a positive thing for me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding! It sounds to me like you’re putting more faith in this Amish woman than you ever have with me.”
The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club Page 7