The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Lamar’s cheeks reddened. “I used to work with my wife in her quilt shop. Believe me, I know what I’m doing.”

  Star, a little unsure, looked at Jan. When he gave her a smile and a nod, she pulled out a chair at the table and took a seat. Everyone else did the same.

  With the dubious expressions she saw from the others, Star was sure she wasn’t the only one in the room who thought it was a little strange that this Amish man could be capable of teaching a quilt class. But it was only fair to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  She glanced over at Pam, who still hadn’t said a word since she and Stuart arrived, which was strange, since all the other times Pam had been here, she’d had plenty to say. Star figured Pam and Stuart may have had a fight on their way here and weren’t speaking. Well, that suited Star just fine because the less snooty Pam had to say, the better it would be for everyone. It wouldn’t hurt her to sit and listen for once, instead of yammering away at Stuart so she could hear herself talk or make a point.

  “From what Emma has told me, I understand that each of you has been working on a wall hanging,” Lamar said, redirecting Star’s thoughts. “Now, I’m going to start by showing you a couple of patterns I designed myself, and then I’ll let you get to work on your projects.”

  “You’ve designed some quilts?” Ruby Lee asked, eyebrows lifted.

  A wide smile stretched across his face. “I’ve always been somewhat of an artist, and as I said, when my wife opened a quilt shop, I helped her sometimes. It didn’t take long before I was designing some new patterns.” Lamar reached into a large cardboard box set on one end of the table and withdrew a quilted wall hanging made from white and three shades of blue material. “I call this one Goose Feathers on the Loose.” He grinned. “Makes me think of the time one of our geese was chasing the dog. She flapped her wings so hard that she left a trail of feathers.”

  Laughter, as well as oohs and aahs came from everyone but Pam and Ruby Lee. They both, however, let their fingers trail over the design of feather-like stitches.

  “Here’s another one I created,” Lamar said, removing from the box a quilted pillow top in various shades of brown, designed to resemble some type of bird tracks. “This one I call Pheasant Trail, because some of the menfolk in my family like to hunt.”

  “Those are both really great,” Stuart said. “You’re sure talented, Lamar.”

  Star nodded in agreement. “I’ll say!’

  “Thank you,” Lamar said, blushing slightly. “It gives me pleasure to make nice things.”

  “So, is designin’ quilts what you do for a living?” Jan asked.

  “No, it’s just a hobby. My real craft is making hickory rocking chairs, and I’m only doing that part-time these days.”

  “Well, you certainly could design quilt patterns full-time,” Paul said, “because these are really unique.”

  Lamar gave a slight nod in response, and then he asked everyone to bring their wall hangings out and lay them on the table so he could see what they’d done.

  They all did as he asked—everyone but Ruby Lee. She just sat, staring out the window as though occupied with her own thoughts at the moment. She’d been so pleasant and talkative when Star had met her on the Pumpkinvine Trail the other day. Something was definitely wrong with her today.

  “Mine doesn’t look so good,” Stuart mumbled. “Some of my stitches are crooked, and some look like they’re only half-stitched ‘cause the sewing machine kept skipping or something. My wife said I didn’t have the tension set right, but even after she fixed it for me, things weren’t much better.” He pointed to the few pieces he’d sewn onto his wall hanging. “The thread broke on me a couple of times, too.”

  “Some people who are first learning to sew end up having to take a lot of their stitches out,” Lamar said. “You just have to watch and see that your stitches are straight, and that the tension is set right when you thread your needle and put the bobbin in place. We’ll work on the projects for a while, and then I’ll serve you some doughnuts that I bought fresh at the bakery this morning.”

  “That sounds good to me, so I’ll keep trying,” Stuart said. “But I’m still not sure I can sew a straight stitch.” He motioned to Pam’s quilted project. “Hers looks pretty good, though, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, it’s coming along real well,” Lamar said after he’d inspected the pieces Pam had stitched onto her wall hanging.

  Pam smiled but didn’t say a word.

  “What’s up with you today?” Star asked. “Do you have a sore throat or laryngitis?”

  Pam reached into her purse, pulled out a notebook and pen, and wrote a short message. “My throat’s fine. I promised Stuart I wouldn’t say anything today.”

  Star looked over at Stuart and frowned. “You asked your wife not to talk to anyone?”

  His face turned red as he shook his head. “I didn’t mean she couldn’t say anything at all. I just meant I didn’t want her talking about our problems or putting me down.” He nudged Pam’s arm. “Say something so they know you can talk.”

  Pam glared at him. “You’re so stupid.”

  Star laughed. She just couldn’t help herself. She looked over at Jan, and then he started laughing, too. Paul, Lamar, and Ruby Lee weren’t laughing, and of course neither was Stuart. He looked downright miffed.

  “No, you’re stupid, Pam,” Stuart mumbled.

  “Would you two please stop?” Ruby Lee’s hand trembled as she pointed first at Stuart, and then Pam. “You need to appreciate each other and stop quarreling all the time. Have you ever stopped to think about how things would be if something happened to one of you? Worse yet, what if one of you died, leaving the other alone?”

  “That’s right,” Paul chimed in. “Once your mate is gone, it’s too late to make amends for anything you may have said or done that was hurtful. I’m so thankful for all the good times my wife and I had together before she died. Lorinda and I didn’t have the perfect marriage, but we had a good one, and we loved each other very much. You need to remember that things can change in a blink,” he added, looking right at Stuart.

  Stuart lowered his gaze and gave a little grunt.

  “Do you have any idea how I felt when my wife died?” Paul continued. “It was like a part of me had died, and to make things worse, my wife’s sister blamed me for the accident. She’s made no contact with me since Lorinda’s funeral—not even to see how Sophia, her only niece, is doing.”

  Paul’s pained expression let Star know how much his sister-in-law’s accusation and avoidance had hurt him. “What makes her think the accident was your fault?” she questioned.

  “She said I should have been paying closer attention, and thinks if I’d seen the truck coming, I could have somehow gotten our car out of his way.” A muscle on the side of Paul’s cheek quivered. “I’ve spoken to my priest about this, and he says Carmen needed someone to blame.”

  “People often like to blame others for the bad things that happen to them,” Lamar interjected. “I believe it’s our human nature.”

  Paul nodded. “Sometimes people blame themselves. One thing I’ve learned through all this, though, is that life’s too short to hold grudges or play the blame game. Good communication and a loving relationship with your family—that’s what’s really important.”

  “I’m a widower, too,” Lamar said, “and my wife, Margaret, and I always tried to keep the lines of communication open. I’m thankful for the happy years we had together, which has left me with lots of good memories. Other than my children reminding me of what our love created, the memories I have of my wife are all I have left to hold on to.”

  Pam frowned and folded her arms, as though refusing to budge. “Well, if Stuart took more interest in me, it would be easier to make our marriage work.”

  Ruby Lee sucked in her breath as tears welled in her dark eyes and dribbled onto her flushed cheeks.

  “Are you okay?” Star asked, touching Ruby Lee’s arm. “Are you upset about
something today?”

  Ruby Lee gave a slow nod.

  “Would you like to talk about it?” Pam asked. “Tell us what you’re feeling right now?”

  Ruby emitted a soft little sob and covered her mouth. “I—I can’t go on like this. My faith is wavering, and I … I’m almost beginning to doubt that God is real.” She sniffed deeply. “If … if He’s truly the heavenly Father, then I don’t think He cares about His people.”

  The room got deathly quiet. Star couldn’t believe what Ruby Lee had just said. She’d thought the happy-go-lucky woman was strong in her beliefs. Up until now, she’d never let on that her faith in God had faltered. For Star to think God might not exist was one thing, but Ruby Lee was a pastor’s wife. As far as Star was concerned, Ruby Lee had no right to be saying such things.

  No one said anything at first; then Paul spoke up. “I suspect you’re speaking out of frustration, Ruby Lee. Please tell us what’s wrong. Is it your husband? Is he ill?”

  “No, he’s fine—at least physically.” Between sniffles and sobs, Ruby Lee shared with the class about the problems they’d been having at her husband’s church because he wanted to add on to the building. Then, after wiping her nose on the tissue Pam had handed her, Ruby Lee told how her friend had passed away two weeks ago, and she’d just found out about it the other day. “So much drama! I … I can’t take this anymore,” she said tearfully. “I used to be able to pray and feel some peace, but lately there just are no peaceful feelings for me.”

  I had no idea poor Ruby Lee’s been going through so much, Star thought. Sure wish she woulda said somethin’ to me about all this the other day. She glanced at Pam and noticed that even her eyes were glassy with tears. Maybe the prissy woman did care about someone other than herself.

  Rising to her feet and looking at Lamar, Ruby Lee said in a quivering voice, “I–I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I made a mistake coming here today.” She grabbed up her quilting project and rushed out the door.

  CHAPTER 25

  Emma yawned and stretched her arms over her head. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but it seemed like she’d been lying on her bed for a good long while. The ice bag that had been pressed against her stomach when she first lay down was now warm, so she assumed that several hours must have passed.

  She reached for her reading glasses lying on the table beside her bed and slipped them on after she sat up. Looking at the alarm clock, she realized it was half past noon.

  Emma removed her glasses and ambled over to the window. There were no cars in the driveway, so she figured all her quilting students must have gone home. Lamar probably had too, since she didn’t see any sign of his horse and buggy.

  Emma redid her hair into a bun at the back of her head and put her head covering in place. Smoothing the wrinkles in her dark green dress, she made her way to the kitchen. When she stepped inside, she opened her mouth in surprise. Lamar stood in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious.

  At her sharp intake of air, he turned from the stove. “Oh good, you ‘re up.”

  Leaning on the counter for support, all Emma could do was squeak, “Y–you’re still here?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Figured when you woke up you’d be hungry, so when I found some leftover soup in the refrigerator, I decided to heat it up for your lunch. Oh, and I added some canned peas and carrots that I found in your cupboard,” he added with a sheepish grin. “Hope that’s okay with you.”

  Emma gave a slow nod. “When I looked out my bedroom window, I didn’t see your horse and buggy, so I figured you’d gone home.”

  “Nope. I put Ebony in the corral and moved my buggy to the back of your shed where it’s in the shade.” Lamar turned back to the stove and gave the kettle of soup a few more stirs. “I think it’s about ready, so if you’ll take a seat at the table, I’ll dish you up a bowl.”

  Emma, unsure of what to say, stood staring at the back of Lamar’s head. She wasn’t used to having someone take over in her kitchen like this, and she sure hadn’t expected Lamar to fix her lunch.

  As though sensing her discomfort, he looked over his shoulder and said, “As soon as I serve up your soup, I’ll be on my way.”

  Not wishing to be rude, Emma smiled and said, “Why don’t you stay and join me? Unless you have other plans, that is.”

  “Nope. I have no plans at all for lunch.” Lamar smacked his lips. “This sure smells good. Can’t guarantee what it would taste like if I’d made it from scratch, though.” He chuckled and went on to tell Emma about some of the blunders he’d made in the kitchen since his wife died.

  “I may know how to craft a sturdy hickory rocking chair and design a quilt pattern, but I still don’t know my way around the kitchen that well,” he said. “One day I spent almost an hour searching for some salt I’d bought, only to find that I’d put it in the refrigerator by mistake.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Finally decided to quit worrying about things so much and just do the best I can, because one thing I’ve discovered is that a day of worry is more exhausting than a week’s worth of work.”

  Emma nodded. “That’s true enough.”

  Lamar ladled some soup into two bowls, and Emma set out a basket of crackers and a glass of water for each of them.

  Once they were seated, they bowed their heads for silent prayer. When they were both finished, Emma picked up her spoon and was about to take a bite of soup when Lamar said, “It’s pretty hot. Better give it a few minutes to cool.”

  Emma set her spoon down and ate a few crackers instead, since she really was quite hungry and didn’t want Lamar to hear her stomach growling.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “How’d it go today?”

  They’d both spoken at the same time; so Emma motioned to Lamar and said, “Sorry; you go first.”

  “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Are your shingles blisters still causing you a lot of pain?”

  “Jah, but I’m feeling a bit better than I did yesterday, so that’s a good sign.” Emma’s throat felt dry, so she reached for her glass of water and took a drink. “How’d things go with the quilt class today?”

  In response to Emma’s question, Lamar’s forehead wrinkled. “I think I did okay with the lesson, but that group of people you’re teaching are sure a bunch of half-stitched quilters.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’ve all got problems, Emma, and with the exception of Pam, none of ‘em can sew all that well.”

  “I know they have problems, but then who doesn’t?”

  “True.”

  Emma went on to explain that some of her students had opened up to her, and she’d been trying not only to teach them to quilt, but to help with their problems at home.

  “From what I can tell, they’ve got plenty of those.” Lamar took a bite of his soup. “It’s cool enough to eat now,” he announced.

  Emma began eating, too, and as they ate, they talked more about the people in her class.

  “That couple—the Johnstons—seem to be having trouble with their marriage,” Lamar said.

  Emma nodded. “They’re seeing a counselor who suggested they do more things together.”

  “Is that why they’re taking the quilt class?”

  “Jah, and hopefully it’ll help bring them closer.”

  “Even Paul, who seems to be fairly stable, opened up to the class and told how painful it is that his sister-in-law blames him for his wife’s death.”

  Emma frowned. “How can that be? From what Paul’s said, his wife was killed when a truck slammed into the side of their car.”

  “That’s right, but I guess Paul’s sister-in-law thinks he could have done something to prevent the accident.”

  “That’s lecherich,” Emma said with a shake of her head.

  “It may be ridiculous, but as I told Paul today, some people have to find someone to blame when things don’t go as they’d like.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true. Some
even blame God for all their troubles.”

  “What about the big fellow with the girl’s name tattooed on his arm? Why’s he taking the class?” Lamar asked, moving their conversation in a little different direction.

  Emma explained about Jan’s probation officer suggesting he find something creative to do, and then she told him the reasons the others had given for taking quilting lessons.

  “Ruby Lee had some problems today,” Lamar said, frowning.

  “With her quilting project?”

  He shook his head. “She shared with the class that her best friend had died two weeks ago, and she’d just found out about it.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame.”

  “Jah, and she also mentioned that they’ve been having problems in their church, and it’s affected her faith in God.”

  “What kind of problems?”

  Emma listened intently as Lamar repeated all that Ruby Lee had shared with the class. “She ended up leaving early, and I felt bad because I wasn’t sure what to say in order to help with her distress.”

  “It’s okay, Lamar. You don’t know those people very well.” Emma pursed her lips. “As soon as I’m done eating, I’m going out to the phone shack and give Ruby Lee a call. I just hope I’m up to teaching the class next week, because if anyone else shares their problems, I really want to be there for them.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Changing the subject,” Emma said, “Sometime I’d like to see those quilt designs you’ve created.”

  Lamar smiled and pushed back his chair. “No problem there. I brought two of ‘em with me today to show to your class.”

  He left the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a cardboard box, which he placed on the counter. “This one I call Pheasant Trail,” he said, holding up a quilted pillow slip.

  “Ach! That’s beautiful,” Emma said, amazed at not only the design of what looked like a trail made by a bird, but also the pretty shades of brown material that had been used.

  “This one I call Goose Feathers on the Loose,” Lamar said, reaching into the box again and retrieving a wall hanging done up in white and a few shades of blue. Emma thought it was even prettier than the other.