CHAPTER 12
Emma was about to show the class what they needed to do next when she heard a knock on the back door. “Excuse me a minute while I see who that is,” she said, hurrying out of the room.
When Emma opened the door, she was surprised to see Lamar holding a rectangular cardboard box. Oh dear, what does he want now? She’d told him earlier that she would be teaching her class until noon, so she couldn’t imagine what he was doing here again.
Before Emma could voice the question, Lamar smiled and held the box out to her. “I know you still have guests, and I didn’t mean to interrupt, but when I got to the bakery and discovered they had chocolate and powdered-sugar doughnuts on sale, I bought a dozen of each. Knowing it was more than I could eat, I decided to bring most of the doughnuts here, thinking you could share them with the people in your quilting class.”
Emma, still feeling a bit put out for the interruption, took the box of doughnuts, thanked Lamar, and said she needed to get back to her students.
“Oh, of course. Sorry for the intrusion. I’ll be on my way.”
Emma nodded and stepped back into the house, almost shutting the door in his face.
“Who was that?” Pam asked when Emma returned to her sewing room.
“Oh, it was just Lamar Miller—a man in my community. He was on his way home from the bakery and stopped by to give me these.” She lifted the box of doughnuts. “We can take a break soon, and I’ll share them with you.”
“Yum … doughnuts sure sound good,” Stuart said.
“I’d better pass,” Paul said. “I had some of my sister’s homemade tamales for breakfast this morning, and I’m still feeling kind of full.”
Jan’s eyebrows shot up. “You had tamales for breakfast?”
Paul nodded. “I could eat them any time of day.”
“Did you invite the nice man who brought the doughnuts to join us?” Ruby Lee asked Emma.
Emma’s face heated as she shook her head. So much for setting a good example for her quilting students. They probably thought she’d been rude for not asking Lamar if he wanted to come in and share the doughnuts. Well, they didn’t understand. If she’d invited him in, he would have seen it as an invitation to come here again—maybe even during one of her classes. It was bad enough that he’d been hanging around so much lately—doing little chores she hadn’t asked him to do and trying to have conversations she’d rather not get into. A few weeks ago, Lamar had stopped by when she wasn’t at home and mowed her lawn. Emma knew he had done it because he’d left his straw hat on one of the fence posts, and she’d discovered his name on the underside of the brim. Emma figured she’d better do something to discourage him soon or she might be looking at a marriage proposal.
“Are you all right, Emma?” Ruby Lee asked. “You look upset.”
“I’m fine,” Emma said, not wishing to discuss her thoughts. “I’ll take the doughnuts to the kitchen until it’s time for our break.” She hurried from the room, feeling more flustered than ever.
When Emma returned, fully composed, she overheard Paul talking to Jan about Sophia and how he hoped the quilt he wanted to finish after he learned the basics of quilting would be a keepsake for the baby. He explained that when Sophia was old enough he planned to tell her what a wonderful mother his wife had been.
Paul paused and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief as several tears trickled onto his cheeks.
Everyone in the room got deathly quiet. Obviously no one knew what to say.
“I’m sorry. I know Lorinda’s in a better place,” Paul said after he’d dried his tears and blown his nose. “But I—I miss her so much, and it pains me to think that Sophia will never know her mother.” Pausing to take a deep breath, he continued. “Then this past week was sort of a nightmare, with meetings, grading papers, and Sophia protesting through it all. The weekend just couldn’t get here fast enough.”
Emma stepped forward and placed her hand on Paul’s shoulder. “It’s never easy to lose a loved one. My husband’s been gone a little over a year, and I still miss him and wish he could come back to me.” She swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn’t give in to her own threatening tears. “When the death of a loved one occurs, everything changes, and you find yourself doing things you never thought you could do.”
“I miss my grandma, too.” Star’s forehead creased, and she opened her mouth like she might say more, but then she closed it and dropped her gaze to the floor.
Emma’s heart ached for the members of her class who were so obviously grieving. Even though she still missed Ivan, she’d found joy in life again. She hoped she could share some of that joy with her class.
As Emma showed the class how to stitch the patterned pieces together, using one of the battery-powered sewing machines, Ruby Lee thought about how flustered Emma had seemed right after the Amish man brought the doughnuts by. At least she assumed he was Amish. While Ruby Lee hadn’t actually seen the man, she’d heard the distinctive clippety-clop of horse’s hooves and the rumble of wheels as the buggy pulled away.
Could there be something going on between Emma and that man? Ruby Lee wondered. If so, I guess it’s really none of my business.
Ruby Lee’s role as a pastor’s wife often put her in a position to know other people’s business—sometimes more than she wanted to know. She always kept quiet about the things she heard, knowing it wouldn’t be good to start any gossip. But there were others in the congregation who didn’t seem to care about that. Some, even those with well-meaning intentions, spread gossip like wildfire.
Ruby Lee winced. For the past several months, Gene had been the subject of gossip within their church, yet he wouldn’t do anything to stop it. He just continued to turn the other cheek and tried not to let the rumors and grumblings bother him. It was all Ruby Lee could do to keep from stepping into the pulpit some Sunday morning and chastising those who had gossiped and complained. The congregation needed to know that Gene had the church’s best interests at heart and that he didn’t deserve to be unjustly accused.
“And now I’d like each of you to spend the next half hour working on your quilt project,” Emma said.
With a sense of determination not to think about anything church-related, Ruby Lee picked up one of her pattern pieces and pinned it to another, making sure it was positioned correctly. She’d signed up for this class so she could forget about the church and its problems and was determined to do just that.
“Hey, watch out there, junior,” Jan said, pointing at Stuart. “You’re gonna stick yourself with a pin if you’re not careful.”
Stuart frowned. “Just worry about yourself; I’m doing fine over here.”
Jan shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’m just sayin’—”
“How does this look?” Ruby Lee asked, holding up the two pieces of material she’d sewn together and hoping to diffuse any more arguments between the men.
“That’s exactly right.” Emma smiled. “You know, I just thought of something.”
“What’s that?” Pam asked.
“My grandmother used to say that God stitches the fabric of our lives according to His purpose and perfect pattern in order to shape us into what He wants us to be, just as you are all shaping your quilt patterns here.”
“That’s a little over the top, don’t you think?” Star spoke up. “I mean, comparing God—if there really is a God—to us making a quilted wall hanging? That seems pretty far-fetched to me.”
“Of course there’s a God,” Ruby Lee was quick to say. While her faith in other Christians may have dwindled in the last few months, she’d never doubted God’s existence.
“I think anyone who doesn’t believe in God must have a problem,” Paul put in. “Why, I can see the hand of God everywhere.”
“That’s right,” Emma agreed. “God’s hand is in the flowers, the trees …”
“A baby’s sweet laugh,” Paul said, picking a piece of thread off his jeans.
Star shrugged her shoulders. �
�You can think whatever you like, but I’m not convinced that God exists, and I don’t have a problem.”
“Everyone has some kind of problem or somethin’ they’re tryin’ to hide,” Jan said. “Some of us just hide it better than others.” He looked right at Star. “What’s your problem, anyway?”
“I just told you, I don’t have a problem.” Star stared back at Jan defiantly. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t discuss my personal life with a bunch of strangers.”
“We’re not really strangers,” Pam interjected. “This is our second time together, and—”
“And with the exception of you and me, none of us knows each other at all.” Stuart removed the green baseball cap he’d worn today and pulled his fingers through the top of his hair, causing it to stand straight up. “Of course, there are days when I’m not sure I really know you all that well either.”
Pam blinked a couple of times. “I hope you’re kidding, Stuart. We’ve been married ten years, and we dated two years before we got married. If you don’t know me now, then I guess you never will.”
Oh no, here we go again. They’re going to start arguing now. These two really do need marriage counseling. Ruby Lee pushed her chair away from the table. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m hungry. Is it all right if we have those doughnuts now, Emma?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get them right away.” Emma scurried out of the room, and Ruby Lee was right behind her.
“What can I do to help?” she asked Emma as they stepped into her cozy kitchen.
“You can get some napkins and the box of doughnuts, and I’ll get the coffee and cups.” Emma smiled. “Maybe these doughnuts will sweeten everyone up and we’ll end our class on a pleasant note today. Oh, and be careful not to get any of that powdered sugar on yourself.” Nodding toward the doughnuts, she added, “There must be a hole in the bottom of the box, because I see some powder drifting out from underneath, and I’d hate to see any of it get on that pretty pink blouse you’re wearing today.”
Ruby Lee nodded, appreciating the warning and, even more, the compliment from Emma.
When they returned to Emma’s sewing room, Ruby Lee was glad to see that with the exception of Paul, who was talking on his cell phone, everyone was visiting. It seemed like they all might be warming up to each other a bit. She placed the doughnuts and napkins in the center of the table and took a seat.
“I have coffee to go with the doughnuts,” Emma said as she set a tray with the coffeepot and cups beside the doughnuts. “Go ahead and help yourselves.”
“I don’t really care much for coffee,” Pam said. “Do you have something else to drink?”
“There’s chocolate milk in the refrigerator, or you can have water,” Emma replied.
“Chocolate milk sounds good to me.” Pam started to rise from her chair, but Emma shook her head.
“Help yourself to a doughnut while I get the milk.”
By the time Emma returned from the kitchen with a glass of chocolate milk, Paul was off the phone and everyone had begun eating their doughnuts. Paul mentioned that he’d called his sister to check on Sophia and was relieved to hear that she was doing just fine. Then the talk around the table turned to the weather.
“Sure has been raining a lot this spring,” Ruby Lee commented. “I hope the sunshine we’re having today keeps on, because I would hate to have flooding like we did two years ago.”
“I remember it was so bad that some of our roads were closed,” Emma said. “One of my friends had so much water at her place that she couldn’t even get to her phone shack.”
“Phone shack?” Pam looked surprised. “Don’t you have a phone in the house?”
Emma shook her head. “Most of us share a phone with other family members or two or three close neighbors, and it’s in a small wooden building we call our ‘phone shack.’”
“Oh, I couldn’t handle not having a phone in the house,” Pam said, slowly shaking her head.
“And I couldn’t do without my cell phone.” Stuart reached across Pam to take another doughnut and bumped her arm just as she was about to take a drink.
The glass tipped, and chocolate milk spilled all over the front of Pam’s creamy-white blouse. “Oh no!” she gasped. “Just look what you’ve done now! My new blouse is ruined!”
“I–I’m sorry,” Stuart sputtered. “I didn’t mean to bump your arm.”
Red-faced, Pam jumped up from the table, her eyes flashing angrily. “Get up, Stuart; it’s time to go home!” With that, she raced out the front door.
Stuart, looking thoroughly embarrassed, grabbed his and Pam’s quilt projects, stuffed them into the canvas tote Pam had brought along, and turned to Emma. “Sorry, but I’d better go.” Before Emma had a chance to respond, he hurried out the door.
CHAPTER 13
Tears burned Pam’s eyes as she slid into the car feeling humiliated and angry with Stuart. How could he have been so careless and bumped her arm like that? Didn’t he ever watch what he was doing?
“Are you okay?” Stuart asked as he took his seat behind the wheel and fastened his seat belt.
“No, I’m not okay!” She sniffed and blotted the tears from her cheeks. “I just bought this beautiful blouse, and now it’s ruined.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine once we get home and you’ve washed it.”
“I … I doubt it. Chocolate’s hard to get out, and it’ll probably leave a nasty stain.”
“If it does, you can buy a new blouse.”
“No, I can’t. This was the last one they had in my size in this style.”
“Then buy one in another style.”
She shook her head. “I like this one. Besides, I’m not like you. You’d be happy if the baseball cap, faded jeans, and red-checkered flannel shirt you wear so much of the time were the only pieces of clothing you owned. Don’t you ever get tired of wearing those things? Wouldn’t it be nice if just once in a while you’d dress in clothes that are a bit more tasteful—especially when we go someplace together?”
“You’re exaggerating, Pam. I don’t wear a flannel shirt and ball cap all the time. I sure don’t wear ‘em to work.”
“Don’t you realize how embarrassing it is for me when you dress like a slob?”
“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” Stuart slashed back. “Did it ever occur to you that I just might be comfortable in these clothes? Or should I say rags, which is probably what you think of them anyway. Now buckle up. We’re heading home.”
Pam said nothing as he started the engine and pulled out of Emma’s yard. What was the point? She was sure her blouse was ruined and equally sure that Stuart didn’t really care. He didn’t care about his sloppy appearance either.
They rode in silence until they were almost out of Shipshewana; then Stuart looked over at Pam and said, “This isn’t working out. I want—”
Pam’s heart hammered and her mouth went dry. “A divorce? Is that what you want?” She knew they were just holding on by a thread.
“Whoa! Who said anything about a divorce?”
“You said things aren’t working out, so I assumed you meant—”
“I was talking about the stupid quilting class.” He gave the steering wheel a whack. “I’m bored with the class, I’ll never catch on to sewing, and I’m getting sick and tired of hearing you talk about me to anyone who’ll listen. You make it sound like I’m the world’s worst husband, and you’re saying it to a bunch of people we don’t even know.” He groaned. “Why do you always have to make me look bad? Is it so you can make yourself look good?”
“Certainly not.” She folded her arms and stared straight ahead. “You’re just too sensitive, that’s all.”
For a few seconds, their conversation ebbed as traffic came to a halt in both directions. Pam watched as a mother duck, followed by seven scurrying ducklings, crossed the road in front of them to get to the area where water had formed a small pond after the recent rain. If only life were as simple as crossing the road to get to t
he other side, where something good awaited you.
Picking up their conversation as if they’d never seen the ducks, Stuart continued talking as traffic moved once again. “Humph! You think I’m too sensitive? You’re the one who lost it when I bumped your arm and the chocolate milk spilled on your blouse. It’s not like I did it on purpose, you know.”
“So you said.”
“Look, Pam, this whole quilting thing is only adding more stress to our marriage, and it’s sure not helping our relationship any. I think you should go without me next week.”
She sat quietly for several seconds, letting his words sink in; then with a quick nod she said, “Okay, I’ll go by myself, and you can stay home and watch the kids instead of asking our neighbor girl to babysit them.”
“Why can’t Cindy watch them again? She said she’d be available to sit with the kids for all six weeks.”
“It would be a waste of money to pay her when one of us isn’t going.”
A muscle on Stuart’s right cheek quivered, the way it always did whenever he was irritated with her. “Fine then. I’ll watch the kids!”
Pam was pretty sure Stuart wanted to do something else next Saturday—probably go fishing with one of his buddies. Well, that was too bad. If he wasn’t going to keep his promise and take the quilting class with her, then he could stay home and deal with the kids.
She leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to drift back to her childhood. Back then, the only thing she should have been worried about was having fun with her friends—deciding what to do for the day and what games they would play. Those should have been days filled with mindless entertainment, doing things kids enjoyed, like lying in the grass with no cares in the world and watching the clouds overhead form into all sorts of characters and shapes. It was a phase in her life when time schedules shouldn’t have been that important yet. Unfortunately, Pam’s childhood wasn’t that simple. As far back as she could remember, she’d felt like she had the weight of the world on her back. She’d never had those carefree days of youth. Instead, Pam constantly had her nose in a book and strived to be a straight-A student so Mom and Dad would be proud of her and say something that would let her know they approved. The hope of gaining their approval gave Pam the determination and drive to keep striving for perfection.
The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club Page 9