Emma found what she was looking for a short way up the path. The area was overgrown, but she recognized the leafy branches of the huge maple tree, where several clumps of wild irises grew nearby. A large boulder sat beneath the tree—the perfect place for young lovers to sit and make plans for the future. It was here that Ivan had first declared his love and told Emma he wanted to marry her. It was here that Emma had agreed to become his wife. And yes, it was even here in this very spot that the birds still seemed to sing their sweetest, as if to serenade her every time she came to visit this special place.
Emma took a seat on the rock and looked up. Even after all these years, her and Ivan’s initials were still there—carved deep in the wood with Ivan’s pocketknife.
Tears welled in Emma’s eyes. “Dearest Ivan, oh, I still miss you so much.”
As a young woman, Emma had been courted by a few other men—one in particular, whom she’d rather forget. But she’d never loved anyone the way she had Ivan, and she thanked God for the precious years they’d had together. She wished all couples could be as happy as she and Ivan had been.
As Emma continued to contemplate things, she thought about Pam and Stuart Johnston and wondered how they’d been getting along this week. Had Pam managed to get the chocolate stain out of her blouse? Had she accepted Stuart’s apology and forgiven him for bumping her arm? Emma was sure Stuart hadn’t done it on purpose. I wonder if they ever have any fun together, without all that strife.
Emma closed her eyes and whispered a prayer. “Dear Lord, please be with that troubled couple and heal their marriage. When they come to my class next week, help me to be an example of Your love—to Stuart and Pam, as well as the others in my quilting class.”
When her prayer ended, she opened her eyes just in time to see a butterfly, with its colorful wings of yellow and black, flitting around her head. Emma smiled, feeling peace and never tiring of God’s almighty showcase.
Mishawaka
As Pam stood in the laundry room staring at the ugly chocolate stain on her blouse, a sense of bitterness welled in her soul. Not only had Stuart’s carelessness ruined her new blouse, but he’d reneged on his promise to attend the quilting classes with her. It wasn’t right to make a promise and then break it, but Stuart didn’t seem to care. Well, maybe she’d enjoy the class more without him, and maybe after being stuck at home watching the kids this Saturday, he’d change his mind and agree to go with her for the three lessons after that. If he didn’t, she wouldn’t be going fishing or camping with him ever again. Not that she wanted to go anyway. She disliked sleeping in a tent, and sitting in a boat for hours on end was just as bad. She hated everything about spending time in the dirty, bug-infested woods.
When Pam first married Stuart, he’d mentioned wanting to go camping together, but she’d had no idea he meant in a tent. She’d suggested they get an RV, which had many of the conveniences she was used to at home, but Stuart shot that idea down, saying he preferred to rough it, and that he thought sleeping in a tent was a lot more fun.
Fun for him, maybe, Pam fumed, tossing her blouse into a bag of cleaning rags. That’s all it was good for now. She would never wear it again—not even around the house. I should go find that stupid flannel shirt of his and throw it in this bag, too. It would serve him right for ruining my blouse.
The sound of children’s laughter drifted through the open window of the laundry room, reminding Pam that Devin and Sherry were playing in the backyard. They’d gone outside shortly after they arrived home from school, and Pam figured they’d stay out there until she called them in for supper.
She glanced at the small clock she kept on the shelf above the dryer. It was almost four. Stuart should be getting home from work in the next hour or so. Since it was a warm spring evening, she hoped he’d be willing to cook some hot dogs and burgers on the grill. Those would be good with the potato salad she’d made earlier. If he wasn’t willing to barbecue, she’d have to broil the meat in the oven.
“Gimme that! Gimme that right now!” Devin’s angry voice pulled Pam’s thoughts aside. When she looked out the window, she saw Sherry running across the yard with a basketball. Devin was right on her heels.
Pam waited to see what her son would do, but when he pushed his sister down and the children started shouting and hitting each other, it was time to intervene.
“What’s the problem here?” Pam asked after she’d rushed out the door and up to the children.
Devin pointed to the ball.
“Now, just say what you mean, because I don’t understand pointing,” Pam said, trying to keep her voice calm.
“She took my ball and won’t give it back!” Devin’s brown eyes flashed angrily as he glared at his little sister and made a face.
Sherry’s lower lip protruded, and her blue eyes filled with tears. “He wouldn’t let me play with it.”
Devin wrinkled his freckled nose. “You can’t play basketball ‘cause you can’t throw the ball high enough to reach the hoop.”
“Can so.”
“Can not.”
“Can so, you stupid head.” Sherry raised her hand like she might slap her brother.
“I’m not a stupid head. You’re a—”
Pam stepped quickly between them. “That’s enough! There will be no more hitting, and it’s not nice to holler and call each other names.”
Sherry tipped her blond head back and looked up at Pam with a most serious expression. “You and Daddy holler at each other.”
A feeling of shame washed over Pam. Her daughter was right; she and Stuart did argue a lot.
Determined not to set a bad example for Devin and Sherry, Pam decided right then that she wouldn’t argue with Stuart anymore—at least not in front of the children. Of course, she would need help controlling her tongue, because Stuart seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons.
Pam crossed her fingers and said a quick prayer. Maybe the two gestures didn’t mix, since crossing one’s fingers was superstitious, but if she was going to keep from arguing with Stuart, then she’d need all the help she could get.
She took the ball from Sherry and handed it to Devin. Then she reached for Sherry’s hand and said, “Why don’t you come in the house with me? You can help me bake a cake for dessert tonight. How’s that sound?”
The child nodded and walked obediently with Pam toward the house. They stopped to look at the tulips blooming around their deck. Pam was happy to see all the other flowers that were sprouting up and starting to bloom in the various nature gardens she’d created. All the pretty flowers and shrubs added just the right touch to their charming Cape Cod home.
When they stopped on the patio to bring in a plant Pam needed to repot, Sherry pivoted toward Devin and stuck out her tongue.
“That’s not nice,” Pam scolded, turning the girl toward the door. She couldn’t imagine where her daughter had picked up such a bad-mannered gesture.
“I saw you stick your tongue out at Daddy once,” Sherry said as they stepped into the kitchen.
Setting the plant near the window, Pam flinched. She really did need to set a better example for the children. Opening the curtains so the plant would get more sunlight, Pam sighed deeply and leaned her head against the window. It’s gotten so bad that even the kids are imitating us now.
Shipshewana
For the last three days, Jan had been working late, and by the time he got home from work, all he wanted to do was sleep. But Brutus had other ideas. Locked safely away in his new dog pen, which Jan had built a few days ago, the poor dog seemed to want Jan’s attention as soon as Terry dropped him off at the house.
“Oh. Oh. Looks like Brutus got out,” Terry said as he pulled his truck into Jan’s yard that afternoon.
Jan rubbed his tired eyes and squinted. Sure enough—there lay Brutus on the front porch. “For cryin’ out loud!” Jan opened the door and hopped out of the truck. When he stepped onto the porch, he noticed a blue cotton shirt lying beside Brutus.
; “What’s up, man? You look upset,” Terry said when he joined Jan on the porch.
Jan grunted and pointed to the shirt.
“Where’d that come from? Is it yours?”
“Nope, but I’ll bet somebody’s missin’ it, and only Brutus knows where it belongs.”
Terry’s brows lifted high, and then he leaned over the porch railing and spat on the ground. “Not only is your mutt an escape artist, but looks to me like he’s also a thief.”
Jan reached under his biker’s cap and scratched the side of his head. “Guess I’d better find out how he got out of his pen and make sure it don’t happen again.”
CHAPTER 16
Mishawaka
Whew! That was quite a workout we had today, wasn’t it?” Pam asked her friend Heather after they’d finished their aerobics class for the day.
Heather nodded and pushed a loose strand of jet-black hair behind her right ear. “It got my heart pumping pretty good. That’s for sure.”
“Do you have time to sit at the juice bar and visit a few minutes?” Pam asked. “I really need to talk.”
“Sure, no problem. Ron’s working late at the office like he usually does on Fridays, so I don’t have to be home for a couple more hours.”
They both found seats at the bar and ordered cranberry juice over ice.
“What’s up?” Heather asked. “Even after that workout we just had, you look kind of stressed.”
Pam drew in a quick breath and blew it out with a puff of air that lifted a piece of hair that had stuck to her sweaty forehead. “I’ve been stressed for several weeks, and it’s only gotten worse.”
“What’s wrong? Are the kids getting on your nerves?”
“It’s not the kids; it’s Stuart. Despite the fact that we’ve been seeing a counselor for the last month, things aren’t any better between us.”
“But you’re taking that quilting class together, right?”
“Well, we were, but Stuart hated it so much he said he didn’t want to go again.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t force the issue.”
Pam took a drink of juice and frowned. “I’m not trying to force him to take the class, Heather. At first he agreed to go if I promised to go fishing with him four more times.”
Heather’s eyebrows squeezed together. “I know how much you hate to fish, so why would you even agree to do such a thing?”
“I agreed to it because our counselor said we should do some things together, and also because I wanted Stuart to learn how to quilt with me.”
“But why? You had to know he wouldn’t like it. I mean, most men I know wouldn’t be caught dead with a needle and thread in their hands. And Stuart sure doesn’t seem like the type who’d want to learn how to sew.”
Pam wrinkled her nose. “You’re right about that. All he ever thinks about is hunting, fishing, and sports. And since I don’t enjoy any of those things, I decided it was time for him to do something just for me … something that would prove how much he loves me. But I’m beginning to think he doesn’t love me at all.”
“Has he said he doesn’t love you?” Heather asked.
“No, but he rarely says so anymore. And when he does, it’s usually because he wants me to do something for him. I can tell by the way Stuart acts that whatever love he used to feel for me has dried up and blown away.” Tears welled in Pam’s eyes and threatened to spill over. “I cook all his favorite foods, dress in stylish clothes, and work out here every week so I can keep my figure, but he barely notices me. When we were dating, he paid me compliments about my looks, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me. But that’s over now—just like our marriage.”
“You don’t think there’s another woman, do you?”
Pam shook her head. “I just think he’s selfish and so into himself that he doesn’t see me or even acknowledge my needs. Besides, with the sloppy way he often dresses, I doubt any other woman would be attracted to him. I know I wouldn’t have been if he’d looked like that before we started dating.”
“Have you tried talking to him about the way he dresses and how he treats you?”
Pam flipped the ends of her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, dozens of times. He just shrugs it off and says I’m too demanding. The other day he even said I was a high-maintenance woman and that I should quit putting so many expectations on him.”
“What’d you say to that?”
“I said he was insensitive and only thinks of himself.”
Heather drank the rest of her juice. “Maybe you and Stuart should go away by yourselves for a few days and see if you can talk things through. A little romance wouldn’t hurt either,” she added with a grin.
Pam rolled her eyes. “If I suggested going away by ourselves, Stuart would probably want to go camping—in a tent, of all things.”
“Just put your foot down and tell him you want to stay at a nice hotel or a bed-and-breakfast. I hear there’s some lovely B&Bs between Middlebury and Shipshewana.”
Pam shook her head. “I doubt he’d go for that.”
“Well, you won’t know if you don’t ask. A little time alone might do wonders for your marriage.”
Pam sighed deeply. “That would be nice, but it would have to be on a weekend, and with the quilting class taking up most of my Saturdays, we couldn’t even think about going away by ourselves until the last class is over.”
Heather gave Pam’s arm a gentle pat. “Well, my good thoughts are with you, and remember, I’m here anytime you need to talk.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“Is everything okay?” Blaine Vickers, one of Stuart’s employees, asked as he joined Stuart in the break room. “You’ve been looking kind of stressed-out all day.”
“I am stressed,” Stuart admitted.
“Did something happen here at work?”
Stuart shook his head. “Everything’s going along fine here in the store. What has me stressed is what’s going on at home.”
“A little trouble in paradise?”
“More than a little; and our home is anything but paradise these days.”
“I’m a good listener if you want to talk about it,” Blaine said.
“Pam and I started seeing a counselor about a month ago, but it’s not helping. Things just seem to be getting worse.”
Blaine gave Stuart’s shoulder a light thump. “Well, give it a bit more time. There’s never been a city built in a day, you know.”
“I don’t think any amount of time will make Pam enjoy the same things I do.” Stuart scrubbed his hand down the side of his bristly face. He really should have shaved this morning. It wasn’t good for business to have the store manager looking scruffy, but he’d been upset with something Pam said and left the house in a hurry. Pam was always nagging him about the way he looked and dressed, and even though he knew she was probably right, it irritated him to have her telling him what to do all the time. He had to admit at times he deliberately wore clothes she didn’t like just to get back at her for harassing him.
“Maybe if you did more things your wife enjoys, she’d be willing to do some things you like to do.”
“I doubt that’s ever going to happen, but I did try something she wanted me to do.”
“What was that?”
“You’re probably not gonna believe this, but Pam actually talked me into going to some quilting classes with her.”
Blaine’s dark eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline. “Are you kidding me?”
Stuart shook his head. “She promised to go fishing with me four more times if I attended the six-week quilting class.”
“I can’t believe you’d agree to that. You’ve got more guts than I do.”
Stuart thumped the side of his head. “More to the point, I think I was just plain stupid.”
“So you’re actually going to learn how to make a quilt?”
“Well, I was supposed to be making a quilted wall hanging, but—”
“What will you do with the wal
l hanging when it’s done?” Blaine asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“If I were to finish mine, it would probably look so horrible I’d end up throwing it in the garbage.” Stuart grimaced. “Pam’s such a perfectionist; hers will probably be good enough for any wall in our house. You know, I thought at first that quilting would be easy, but after the second lesson, I realized there’s a lot more to it than I’d expected.”
Blaine sat staring at Stuart, slowly shaking his head. “You must love your wife a lot if you’d be willing to sit through six weeks of classes, playing with a needle and thread.”
“We made an agreement that I’d take the quilting classes with her, and then she’d have to go fishing with me four more times, but I—”
“That sounds tough. Besides the sewing thing, which I could never do, I’m not sure I could sit with a group of people I don’t even know while they carried on about material and quilts all day.”
“The class is only two hours every Saturday, and after the way things went last week, I decided I don’t want to go back.”
“So you’re reneging on your promise to Pam?”
Stuart shrugged. “If you want to call it that, then, yeah, guess I am.”
Blaine shook his head. “Oh boy, no wonder your marriage is in trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means if I’d made a promise to Sue and backed out, she’d never let me hear the end of it.” Blaine took another swig of coffee. “Was it really that bad sitting in class with a bunch of women?”
“This may surprise you, but I wasn’t the only man in the class.”
“Now that is a surprise. How many other men were there besides you?”
“Two. There’s this big biker fellow who likes to throw his weight around and a young Hispanic schoolteacher whose wife recently died. There are also three women taking the class: Pam; Ruby Lee, an African-American woman who’s a pastor’s wife; and Star.”
“Star?”
“She’s a young woman with a nose ring and an attitude that reeks of defiance.”
The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club Page 11