The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  No one said anything. Then Emma finally spoke. “Marriage is about loving the other person enough to do some things just for them—even things you don’t want to do.”

  “Guess you’re right.” Stuart pulled his fingers through the top of his hair, making it stand nearly straight up. “So maybe I’ll change my mind and stick it out through the whole six weeks. Then I’ll see if Pam keeps her end of the bargain and goes fishing with me.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Jan spoke up. “Most of the women I’ve ever known say they’ll do one thing and end up doing just the opposite.”

  “Men are no better,” Star interjected. “All my mom’s wonderful boyfriends have been losers—promising this, promising that, and never keeping their word on anything.”

  Emma figured the conversation was becoming too negative and might lead to a disagreement, so she suggested that everyone take turns using the battery-operated sewing machines so they could get more of their pattern pieces sewn together.

  While they worked, Emma was surprised to see how much more easygoing and relaxed Stuart seemed to be. He even cracked a few jokes.

  “I may not be so good at sewing,” he said, “but there’s one thing I know I can do better than anyone else.”

  “What’s that?” Ruby Lee questioned.

  “I can read my own handwriting.”

  Ruby Lee chuckled; Paul grinned; Star rolled her eyes; and Jan just shook his head.

  Stuart held up the few pieces he’d managed to sew. “Now look at this mess. Good grief, it takes too many pieces of this little material to make up each point of the star, and to make things worse, I can’t even sew a straight seam!”

  “You’ll get a feel for it,” Emma said. “It just takes practice.”

  Stuart placed his material on the table and pointed out the window. “Those cows I see in that pasture across the way remind me of a story someone told me at the sporting goods store the other day.”

  “What was it?” Paul asked.

  “Well, a guy and a gal were walkin’ along a country road, and when they came to a bunch of cows, the guy said, ‘Would you just look at that cow and the bull rubbing noses?’ He glanced over at his girlfriend and smiled. ‘That sight makes me want to do the same.’ The girlfriend looked that fellow right in the eye and said, ‘If you’re not afraid of the bull, then go right ahead.’”

  Stuart’s joke brought a smile to everyone lips, including Jan’s.

  Emma wondered if perhaps Stuart felt freer to express himself when his wife wasn’t with him. If so, it was a shame, because God never intended for married couples to put each other down or argue about petty things.

  Ruby Lee had a hard time keeping her mind on the straight line she was trying to make while using Emma’s battery-operated sewing machine. Gene was having a meeting with the church board this morning, and she couldn’t help but worry about how things were going. Would they listen to what he had to say or insist on having their own way? She knew that earlier this week Gene had talked to each of the board members individually and hoped he’d been able to make them see that he wasn’t trying to get the church into debt. He just wanted to see the congregation take a step of faith so it could grow and reach out to more people in the area.

  Resolving to put her concerns aside, Ruby Lee looked over at Emma and said, “How are things with your goat? Maggie, is it?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Is she still getting out of her pen?”

  “Not since my son-in-law fixed the latch on the gate. But then, knowing that sneaky little goat, she might just find a way to open it.”

  “Boy, I can sure relate to that,” Jan said with a grunt. “My German shepherd, Brutus, has turned into the neighborhood thief, so I had to build him a dog pen. He’s managed to dig his way out of it a couple of times, but I fixed that by diggin’ a small trench all the way around the pen and then puttin’ some wire fencing in the ground.”

  “That was good thinking,” Star said, giving Jan a thumbs-up.

  “Yeah, but it didn’t solve the problem, ‘cause the other day Brutus got out again.” Jan’s forehead creased, but the stress lines disappeared under his biker’s bandanna. “Since I didn’t see no sign of a hole anywhere, I’m guessin’ he had to have climbed over the top.”

  “My folks used to have a dog that did that,” Stuart spoke up. “Dad put some wire fencing over the top of the dog pen, and that solved the problem.”

  “Guess I might hafta do that if Brutus keeps gettin’ out. Sure can’t have him runnin’ all over the neighborhood stealin’ other people’s things. I just don’t have the time to be chasin’ all over the place, tryin’ to find out who the items belong to that Brutus keeps takin’. If he doesn’t quit it, I’m either gonna be the laughin’stock of the whole neighborhood, or no one will be speakin’ to me.” Chuckling, he added, “Guess there’s a positive side to all of this though.”

  “What’s that?” Paul asked.

  “I’m actually gettin’ to meet some of my neighbors when I go around lookin’ for the owner of the things Brutus has taken.”

  That comment got a good laugh from everyone.

  “I heard about a cat that was a kleptomaniac,” Ruby Lee said. “After talking to an expert on the subject, the people were told that the cat was probably bored and needed more attention. I guess the cat stole more than a hundred items before the owners finally figured out what to do about the problem.”

  “Lack of attention could be why your dog’s getting out of his pen,” Star said. “I visited a website once when I was doin’ a research paper for twelfth-grade English. The whole thing was about pets that escape from their pen and run off. Some animal psychologist came up with the idea that when a dog does that, it’s also in need of more attention.”

  Jan nodded as he popped a few of his knuckles. “I’ve been pretty busy with work lately, and so I haven’t spent much time with Brutus. Guess I’ll need to take more time out for him and see if it makes a difference. Maybe it’d be a good idea if I take him with me when I make my rounds through the neighborhood tryin’ to return all of the things he’s taken.”

  “I’ve always wanted a dog,” Star said wistfully. “But Mom and I have moved around so much it just never worked out for me to get one. I may get a dog when I have a place of my own someday though.”

  “Another reason you don’t want your dog running all over the place, Jan, is to keep him from getting out on the road where he might get hit by a car,” Emma said. “That’s why I asked my son-in-law to fix the gate on the goat pen. Maggie’s a bad one, but I would hate to see anything happen to her.”

  “That’s right,” Paul interjected. “On my way here this morning, I saw a German shepherd lying dead in the road. Apparently someone hit the poor dog and then fled the scene, because I didn’t see anyone standing around or even a car parked near the shoulder of the road.”

  “What’d the dog look like?” Jan asked, concern showing clearly on his face.

  “Traffic was almost at a standstill, and from what I could tell when I passed the animal, it was black and tan.”

  Jan’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds like my Brutus. Where exactly did you see the dog?”

  “He was on the main road coming into Shipshewana, near the 5 and 20 Country Kitchen,” Paul replied.

  “That’s not far from my place!” Jan leaped out of his chair then turned to Emma. “Sorry, but I’ve gotta go.” Leaving his quilt project on the table, he rushed out the door.

  “That poor man sure looked upset,” Emma said. “I hope his dog is all right.”

  Ruby Lee nodded. “Some people’s pets are very important to them—almost like children. When my boys were six years old and their cat died, they insisted their dad do a little burial service in our backyard.”

  “Did he do it?” Star asked.

  Ruby Lee nodded. “The boys carried on so much that Gene could hardly say no.”

  “My kids have been after me to get them a dog, but pets are
a lot of work, and I’m not sure they’re ready for the responsibility.” Stuart’s stomach growled, and he covered it with his hands, probably hoping to quiet the noise. “Oops … sorry about that. Pam was busy caring for Sherry this morning, and she didn’t have time to fix me anything for breakfast. So I just grabbed a cup of coffee and headed out the door.”

  “Why didn’t you fix yourself something to eat? You look capable enough to me,” Star said, looking thoroughly disgusted with Stuart.

  Stuart shrugged. “Never thought about it ‘cause Pam has always made my breakfast.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything. Maybe you oughta help your wife out once in a while,” Star muttered.

  “I do plenty of things to help out.”

  “Uh, let’s take a break, and I’ll bring out a treat. Then we can continue working on the wall hangings after that,” Emma said with a cheerful smile.

  Ruby Lee was quite sure that Emma felt the tension between Star and Stuart. If she had to guess, she’d say that Star was probably angry with someone who’d treated her mother poorly.

  “A treat sounds good to me,” Stuart agreed. “Have you got any more of those tasty doughnuts you served us last week?”

  Emma shook her head. “No, but I do have an angel cream pie I baked yesterday, and there’s a pot of coffee on the stove. I’ll head out to the kitchen to get them right now.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Star left her seat and followed Emma out of the room, leaving Ruby Lee alone with the men.

  “Sure hope I get the hang of sewing,” Stuart said, motioning to the little he’d done on his wall hanging. “I feel like I’m all thumbs.” He held up his hands. “Sore thumbs at that, from getting stuck with the pins so many times. No wonder I’ve seen women use those little thimble contraptions to cover their fingers.”

  “I’ve pricked my finger a few times, too,” Paul said with a chuckle. “Makes me appreciate all the sewing my wife used to do.”

  Ruby Lee was about to comment when her cell phone rang. It was a number she didn’t recognize, so she was tempted to let the call go into voice mail. But something told her to answer, as it might be important.

  “Hello,” Ruby Lee said.

  “Is this Mrs. Williams?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Joan Hastings. I’m a nurse at the hospital in Goshen, and I’m calling to let you know that your husband’s here in the emergency room.”

  “Oh, can I speak to him?” Ruby Lee asked, thinking Gene must be with one of their parishioners who’d been hurt or had become ill.

  “He can’t talk to you at the moment,” the nurse replied. “He’s being examined by one of our doctors.”

  Ruby Lee’s heart started to pound. Gene was in the emergency room being examined by a doctor? Something terrible must have happened. “W–was he in an accident? Is he seriously hurt?”

  “He’s having trouble breathing and complained of feeling dizzy when he first came in. We’ve run some tests to see if it’s his heart, and—”

  “I’ll be right there!” Hands shaking, Ruby Lee ended the call and turned to face Paul and Stuart. “W–would you please let Emma know that I had to go? My husband’s been taken to the emergency room.” Without waiting for either man’s reply, she gathered up her sewing and rushed out the door.

  CHAPTER 18

  Mishawaka

  Pam glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was eleven o’clock, which meant the quilting class would be over in an hour.

  She opened the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of iced tea, wondering how Stuart was doing. She hated to see him go alone but knew her place was at home, taking care of the kids. Although Sherry was feeling a little better this morning, she wasn’t well enough to leave with a sitter. Poor little thing hadn’t been able to keep anything down until early this morning when Pam had given her some ginger tea and a small piece of toast.

  A niggle of guilt settled over Pam as she remembered that she hadn’t fixed Stuart any breakfast—although once in a while, he should be able to manage on his own. After all, he had to have known she was busy taking care of Sherry, and he wasn’t completely helpless in the kitchen—just lazy and too dependent on her.

  Pam glanced out the window to see what Devin was up to. She didn’t see him jumping on the trampoline, but then she remembered he’d said something about playing in the tree house. Stuart had built it last summer so that he and Devin could climb up there once in a while and have a little father-son time. Trouble was Devin was the only one who used it. Pam had seen Stuart go into the tree house just once, and that was right after he’d built it.

  If he didn’t spend so much time in front of the TV watching sports, he might take more of an interest in the kids, Pam fumed. Doesn’t he realize how quickly they’re growing? Soon they’ll be grown and moved out on their own, and then it’ll be impossible to get back those wasted years when he should have been doing more things with his family.

  Knowing she needed to focus on something positive, and confident that Sherry was still sleeping, Pam decided to take her iced tea outside on the porch where she could enjoy the breeze that had come up a short time ago.

  Stepping outside and taking a seat in one of the wicker chairs, Pam glanced toward the pink and purple petunias she’d planted in her flower garden last week. They were so beautiful and added just the right splash of color to the area where she’d put them.

  Pam’s thoughts halted when she heard a whimpering noise. Glancing up at the tree house in the maple tree, she realized it must be Devin. She set down her glass and hurried across the yard.

  “Devin,” she called. “Are you okay?”

  More whimpering followed by some sniffles.

  Heart pounding, she climbed the ladder to the tree house where she found her son huddled in one corner, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks.

  “What’s wrong, Devin?” she asked, kneeling on the wooden floor beside him. “Are you hurt?”

  He shook his head. “I–I’m scared ‘cause Daddy might leave and never come back.”

  “Now why would you think that?”

  “My friend Andy’s dad left, and Andy never sees him no more.” Devin sniffed and swiped his hand over his damp cheeks. “If Daddy left, I’d really be sad.”

  Pam slipped her arm around Devin’s shoulders and drew him close. “Your daddy’s not going to move out of our house.”

  “Are—are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m very sure,” Pam said with a nod, although secretly she’d been worried about that very thing.

  Shipshewana

  “What did you say this is called?” Star asked when Emma placed the pie on the table and asked her to cut it into even pieces.

  “Angel cream pie,” Emma replied. “My grandmother used to make it, and she gave me the recipe when I got married.”

  “Speaking of grandmothers—you sort of remind me of my grandma. Not in the way you look, but the way you treat people. Your kindness and sense of humor make me think of her, too.”

  Emma smiled. Even though Star was wearing that black sweatshirt again, it was good to see that the hood wasn’t on her head today. The young woman had a pretty face, and it was nice to see her tender expression when she spoke of her grandmother—although Emma still didn’t understand why Star had purple streaks in her hair, wore a nose ring, and had a tattoo on her neck. But then, there were many things she didn’t understand—especially when it came to some Englishers. Even so, Emma knew God had created everyone, and that each person was special to Him.

  “I miss my grandma so much.” Star’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “She always did nice things for me. Not like my mom, who only thinks of herself.”

  “What about your father? Where is he?” Emma questioned, wondering how any mother could only think of herself. It wasn’t the Amish way to be selfish like that.

  “Beats me. I’ve never met him. He ran out on us when I was a baby, and Mom ended up marrying some loser when I was
eight years old.” Star’s forehead creased as she frowned. “His name was Wes Morgan, and he was really mean to Mom.”

  “Was he mean to you as well?”

  “Not really. He pretty much ignored me. Wes died a few years after they were married, when he stepped out into traffic and got hit by a car. Mom and I have been on our own ever since.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emma said, gently touching Star’s arm.

  “Yeah, it hasn’t been easy, but I’m glad Wes is out of the picture.” Star wrinkled her nose. “Now Mom’s thinkin’ of marrying this guy named Mike.”

  “I take it you don’t care much for Mike?”

  “Nope. Don’t like him at all. He hangs out at our place all the time, expects Mom to wait on him, and tries to tell me how I should live.” Star motioned to the pie. “All the pieces are cut now. Is there anything else you want me to do?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  Emma handed Star a serving tray. “You can put the pie on this, along with some plates and forks.” She gathered up five plates and forks, which she then handed to Star. “Before you take these out to the others, I want you to know that you’re welcome to come by here anytime if you should ever need to talk.”

  Star blinked a couple of times and stared at Emma with a look of disbelief. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. I’m a good listener, and perhaps I may be able to offer you some advice.”

  “Thanks. I might take you up on that offer sometime.” Wearing a smile on her face, Star picked up the tray and headed into the next room. Emma followed with another tray that held the coffee and mugs.

  When Emma entered her sewing room, she was surprised to see only Paul and Stuart sitting at the table. “Where’s Ruby Lee?” she asked.

  “She got a phone call saying her husband had been taken to the emergency room, so she had to leave,” Paul explained.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma said, feeling concern. “I certainly hope Ruby Lee’s husband will be okay.”