Mary smiled. “If you’re feeling up to helping, that’s fine with me.”
Emma followed Mary to the basement and took a seat on a folding chair while Mary filled the gas-powered wringer-washer with water.
“It was nice of Lamar to stop by and check on you yesterday,” Mary said as she put some towels into the washer. “When I spoke to him after church, he seemed concerned about you not being there.”
Emma rubbed a spot on the front of her dress where some tea must have dripped.
“Lamar seems to be a very nice man,” Mary continued. “I also think he’s lonely.”
Emma folded her hands and began to twiddle her thumbs. She didn’t care for the way this conversation was going. “If he’s lonely, then he needs to find something to occupy his time. Keeping busy has helped me not to be so lonely since your daed died.”
“From what I can tell, Lamar keeps plenty busy with the hickory rocking chairs he makes. Besides, staying busy is no guarantee that a person won’t be lonely.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Despite Emma’s activities in her yard and with her quilting projects, she still felt lonely at times—especially in the evenings, which was when she and Ivan used to sit out on the porch or in the living room to relax and visit after a long day. Oh, how she missed those special times.
“I think Lamar would probably like to find another wife,” Mary said.
Emma clenched her fingers into a tight ball. “Jah, well, that’s fine. It’s just not going to be me.”
Star had just gotten off work, and instead of going straight home, she decided to drive over to Shipshewana to see Emma. She wanted to talk to her more about Mom’s new man friend—tell her what happened yesterday when Mike came over. She was still upset and needed someone to share her feelings with, and it sure couldn’t be Mom. Had Mom taken Star’s side yesterday when Mike jumped her about wearing dark-colored clothes and too much eye makeup? No! Had Mom told Mike to get his shoes off the couch when he’d sprawled out to watch TV for the day? Of course not! Mom pretty much let Mike do whatever he wanted, even though they weren’t married.
“And I hope they never are,” Star mumbled as she started her car’s engine.
As she pulled out from Walmart, she began to sing the lyrics to one of the songs she’d been working on. “Never gonna be the princess, holding tight to Daddy’s neck; never gonna be the apple of his eye. Never gonna walk the aisle hand in hand; a sweet vignette. Never gonna answer all the whys.”
Tears pricked the back of Star’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over. No point giving in to self-pity, because it wouldn’t change a thing. If Mom ended up marrying Mike, there wasn’t anything Star could do about it. She just needed to take one day at a time and try to focus on other things. Maybe someday one of her songs would be discovered and she’d become a real star; then she wouldn’t need anyone—not even Mom.
Star continued to sing as she drove toward Shipshewana. When she pulled into Emma’s yard sometime later, she saw Emma and a younger woman hanging clothes on the line.
Seeing that Emma wasn’t alone, Star was hesitant about getting out of the car. But when Emma looked her way and waved, she knew she couldn’t turn around and leave. That would be rude. So Star turned off her car’s engine, stepped out, and headed across the yard.
When she reached the clothesline, Emma smiled and said, “What a nice surprise. What brings you by here this Monday morning?”
Feeling suddenly shy and more than a bit uncomfortable due to the other woman’s curious expression, Star dropped her gaze to the ground and mumbled, “Just got off work.”
“I didn’t realize you worked in Shipshewana,” Emma said.
“I don’t. I work at the Walmart in Goshen.” Star dragged the toe of her sneaker along a clump of grass. “Thought maybe it would be a good time to visit with you awhile, but I can see that you’re busy right now.”
“I’m not too busy to talk.” Emma placed her hand on Star’s arm. “Besides, you just drove probably half an hour to get here, and I surely can’t send you away.”
Emma’s gentle touch felt warm and comforting. It made Star think of Grandma again, but she wasn’t sure how to respond. She really did need to talk to Emma but didn’t want to do it in front of the other woman.
“Oh, silly me,” Emma said. “I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter. Star, this is Mary. She lives next door and came over to help me with the laundry.”
“We did meet briefly on the first day of your quilting class, but we weren’t introduced.” Mary held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Star.”
Star, feeling a little more relaxed, shook Mary’s hand. “Yeah, I remember now. Nice to meet you, too.”
“What kind of work do you do at Walmart?” Emma asked as she hung one of her plain blue dresses on the line.
“I stock shelves in the wee hours of the morning.”
“That must be nice in some ways,” Mary said, “because it gives you the rest of the day to do other things.”
“Yeah.” Star bent down and picked up a wet towel from the wicker basket. “This looks like fun. Think I’ll help, if you don’t mind.”
Emma laughed. “We don’t mind at all, but I’m surprised you would think hanging out the laundry is fun.”
“Well, fun might not be the best word for it,” Star said, “but it’s different. With the exception of the time we’ve spent living in my grandma’s house, Mom and I have always washed and dried our clothes at the Laundromat.” Star pointed to a sheet flapping in the breeze. “Do you hang things out when the weather is nice and then use the dryer when it’s raining or snowing?”
Emma shook her head. “Oh no. We don’t have automatic clothes dryers, but if we did, I’d really miss the fresh scent that clings to the sheets. For me, it’s almost like sleeping in the outdoors when I cover up at night and smell the earth’s sweet fragrance on my bedding.”
“Oh that’s right. I forgot you don’t use electricity in your homes. So what do you do about washing your clothes? Do you have to wash ‘em in a big round tub with a washboard?”
“Some of the washing machines we use in this community are run with a generator, but Mom’s machine is run by a gas-powered motor that’s set up outside, and the drive shaft is run into the washing area,” Mary explained.
“Oh, I see.” Star couldn’t imagine living without the benefit of electricity and doing without all the modern conveniences. She did remember, though, how good the sheets smelled when she’d stayed at Grandma’s house a few times before Grandma had become so ill.
That must be what Emma meant about the fresh earthy scent. Grandma probably hung her clothes out to dry sometimes. Funny how I’d forgotten that little memory of Grandma’s sheets until Emma spoke of it.
They visited about other things until all the clothes were hung, and then Mary said she needed to do some things at her home, so she bid them good-bye.
“Would you like to take a seat on the porch?” Emma asked. “All that bending and stretching left me feeling rather worn out.”
Star nodded. “Then I guess we should both have a seat, because I’m kinda tired, too.”
As they walked to the porch, Star couldn’t help but notice Emma’s slow-moving gait. “Are you feeling all right today?” she asked, reaching out to steady Emma as they took seats on the porch swing.
“I’ve been feeling rather drained for the last few days. Just don’t quite feel like myself.” Emma smiled, although the usual sparkle in her blue eyes wasn’t there. “I stayed home from church yesterday to rest, but I guess it didn’t help because I don’t have much energy this morning either.”
“Maybe I oughta go so you can take a nap.” Star started to rise, but Emma shook her head and motioned for her to sit back down.
“There’s no need for you to rush off. I can rest right here while we visit.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Star seated herself again and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as a breez
e lifted it from her shoulder. It was warm out today, and she was wearing jeans and a black tank top instead of her usual hooded sweatshirt. She was glad the job of stocking shelves at Walmart didn’t require that she wear a uniform. She wouldn’t feel comfortable dressed in one of those.
“How was your weekend?” Emma asked.
Star shrugged. “Could have been better. At least Sunday sure could have.”
“What happened?”
Star began telling Emma how Mike had acted—controlling the TV remote, telling Star how she should dress, and complaining because he thought she wore too much eye makeup and too many rings on her fingers. He’d also griped about the small gold hoop in her nose, saying it looked ridiculous.
“I finally left the house and went for a walk just to get away from him. Don’t know what I’m gonna do if Mom marries that guy.” Star pursed her lips. “Mom’s so gullible when it comes to men, and I’m not sure she’s making a right decision where Mike is concerned. Fact is, she’s made many poor choices and hasn’t always been honest with me about things either. It really makes me mad.”
“People are human, Star, and sometimes due to circumstances or just plain immaturity, they make poor choices.” Emma sighed. “I made some poor choices myself when I was a young woman during my courting days.”
Star tipped her head. “Courting? Is that the same thing as dating?”
“Well, I believe it’s a little different,” Emma said. “Courting is done with the intention of discovering if you want to be with the person forever. Dating is not as serious. At least that’s how I understand it.”
“Well, dating or courting, I can’t imagine a nice lady like you making poor choices.”
“I did though. When I was seventeen, I chose the wrong boyfriend.” Emma stared into the yard as though remembering the past. “His name was Eli Raber, and he had a wild side to him. Eli liked to drink, smoke, and run around. He also had a bright red car he kept hidden behind his daddy’s barn.”
Star leaned forward, listening intently as Emma went on to tell that Eli had it in his mind to leave the Amish faith and wanted Emma to join him.
“I almost did, too,” Emma admitted. “Had it not been for Ivan coming along when he did, I might have run off with Eli and gotten into who knows what kind of trouble.” She smiled, and some of that sparkle returned to her eyes. “Ivan was so kind and polite. He had good morals and was a dependable worker—helping his father in his harness shop. It didn’t take me long at all to realize I’d found a good man.”
“Hmm … I see.”
“Does your mother love Mike?” Emma asked.
“I guess so. At least she says she does.”
“Is he in love with her?”
“Supposedly, but then who knows? He could just be putting on an act to impress her.”
“Does he have a steady job?”
“Yeah. He manages a restaurant in Goshen, and from the gifts he brings Mom, I’m guessin’ he makes pretty good money.”
“And is this man kind to your mother?”
“He seems to be—so far, anyway. According to Mom, Mike doesn’t drink, smoke, or do drugs either.”
“Then perhaps marrying him is what your mother needs.”
“Maybe so, but it’s sure not what I need.”
“What do you need, Star?”
Star drew in a deep breath, and when she released it, her bangs lifted up from her forehead. “I need someone who won’t look down their nose at me and criticize everything I say or do. I need someone who’ll be my friend. I need someone who’ll care about me the way Grandma did.”
Emma placed her hand gently on Star’s arm. “I care about you.”
“Even though I dress weird and say things in a different way than you do?”
Emma chuckled and motioned to her head covering. “Some people probably think I dress weird, too.”
Still not quite comfortable talking about her life, Star pointed to the pretty flower arrangement in the corner of Emma’s yard. “That’s an unusual flowerpot. Did you get it at the Shipshewana flea market?”
Emma explained that one morning, rather than throwing her husband’s old work boots out, she’d planted carnations in them. “It’s a beautiful reminder of how hard Ivan worked to provide for me and our family,” she said. “I have the other boot in another nature garden out back, where I can see it when I’m looking out the kitchen window. I planted petunias in that one.”
Emma went on to tell Star that the rock in the front yard where the boot sat had been found by her husband while they’d been walking through the woods together one afternoon during their courting days.
Emma paused for a minute, and Star looked at her intently, thirsty to hear more.
“After Ivan and I got married, we lived on a farm, where we worked hard and soon became busy raising our children,” Emma continued. “No matter how busy things got, one thing we remembered to do was to make time for having fun.” She chuckled. “I can still recall a little joke I played on Ivan one time that had us all laughing.”
“What was it?”
“On his forty-ninth birthday, instead of throwing the newspaper away after he’d finished reading it, I hid the paper for a whole year. Then the following year on his birthday, I replaced the current newspaper with the one from the year before. It was hard to keep from laughing as I sat across from Ivan at the breakfast table, slyly watching as I finished my cup of coffee and he read the paper.”
“Did he catch on?” Star asked.
“He never noticed it was year-old news until he was almost done reading the entire paper.” Emma giggled as she touched her cheeks. “You should have seen Ivan’s expression when he commented about the articles sounding like news that had happened a year ago. And, oh my … I laughed so hard, I thought I was going to pop the seams in my dress.”
“How’d he take it when he realized it was an old newspaper?”
“He actually took it quite well. Even laughed about it and told the rest of our family how I’d fooled him real good on his fiftieth birthday.”
Star smiled and leaned back in her chair, noticing the laugh lines that had formed around Emma’s eyes. Something about being with Emma made Star feel good. She hadn’t felt this relaxed or lighthearted in years.
“You know, Star,” Emma said, “those are the kinds of joys, even though they’re simple, that help to keep a person grounded.”
Star was quiet for a moment, thinking how wonderful it must be to have such happiness being with another person. “I like you, Emma Yoder. Yeah, I like you a lot.”
Emma slipped her arm around Star’s waist and gave her a hug. “I like you, too.”
CHAPTER 21
You look like you’ve eaten a bowl of sour pickles for breakfast,” Terry said when Jan climbed into his truck that morning. “Are you dreadin’ going to work that much?”
“It’s not the work I dread; it’s the comin’ home.”
“Since when have you ever dreaded that?”
“Since my dog was killed.”
Terry’s eyes widened. “Brutus is dead?”
Jan nodded soberly.
“Oh man, how’d that happen?”
“He got out of his pen and was hit by a car.”
“But I thought you fixed the pen so he couldn’t get out.”
“I thought that, too, but I guess he must’ve climbed the fence and gone out over the top.”
“I’m real sorry to hear that. Did you bury him out back?”
Jan shook his head. “It didn’t happen here. Paul—one of the guys who attends the quiltin’ class on Saturdays—said he saw a dead dog on his way to Emma’s that looked just like Brutus. It was over by the 5 and 20 Country Kitchen.”
“Did you see the dog?”
“Nope. By the time I got there, the body was gone. Figured someone from Animal Control had probably hauled it off.” Jan nearly choked on the words. “And I was right, ‘cause when I called the Humane Society, they said a dead German sheph
erd had been brought in.”
“How do you know it was Brutus? Did they identify him by his tags?”
“Didn’t have any. I stupidly let the dog run around without a collar and never even bothered to get him a license or an ID tag. The description of the dog was the same, though, and when I came home on Saturday, Brutus wasn’t in his pen or anywhere in the yard.” Just talking about losing the dog made Jan feel sick. He’d been struggling with his emotions the entire weekend.
“That don’t actually prove the dead dog was Brutus.”
“Maybe not, but since Brutus didn’t come back, it’s pretty clear to me that it had to be him.”
“Guess you’re probably right,” Terry said as he pulled out of Jan’s driveway.
As they headed down the road, a thought popped into Jan’s head. “Say, would you mind makin’ a quick stop before we head on over to LaGrange to start our next roofin’ job?”
“Sure. Where do you want me to stop?”
“At the Amish woman’s home who teaches the quiltin’ classes. She lives a short ways from here.”
“Why do you wanna go there?” Terry asked.
“When I found out about the dog that had been hit, I left Emma’s in such a hurry I forgot and left my quiltin’ project on her table. If I don’t pick it up, I won’t be able to work on it this week.”
“I still don’t get why you’re takin’ that class, but to each his own, I guess.”
“You got that right.” Jan frowned when Terry lit up a cigarette. “Thought you’d given up that nasty habit.”
“I’ve been tryin’ to, but when I get stressed-out I need a smoke.”
“What’s got you feelin’ stressed?”
“My folks.” Terry groaned. “After being married thirty-five years, they’re talkin’ about splittin’ up.”
“That’s too bad, man. Now you know why I’ve never gotten married. Too many complications, and it seems like there ain’t much commitment anymore.”
The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club Page 15