“Is it because you want to do worldly things, or are you unhappy being Amish?” Carmen glanced down at her lap to be sure the tape recorder was working.
“It’s not that I have anything against the Amish way of life,” Anna replied quietly, looking around, as if afraid someone might hear. “I’m just not sure it’s meant for me. I mean, I don’t feel accepted by my family.”
“Why is that?”
“My folks treat me like a baby.” Anna frowned. “Most of my friends do things other than getting together for games and singings. But my parents don’t allow me to try anything new.”
Carmen leaned forward. “What kind of things?”
Anna shrugged, glancing around again while twirling her napkin around her fingers. Carmen had a hunch this was something Anna didn’t want to talk about. But it’s what I want to know. I need to keep pressing until she tells me more.
“Anna, do your friends drink or do drugs?” Carmen questioned. That was the kind of thing she’d seen on TV, and she needed to know how much of it was true.
“A couple of my friends have done some of those things,” Anna admitted. “But most just meet in town and do fun things together.”
“What kind of things?” Carmen questioned.
“Some of the girls wear English clothes when they’re away from home. Some wear jewelry and makeup, too.”
“Have you ever done any of those things?”
The middle-aged waitress came with their orders. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she said before turning away from the table.
Anna glanced around nervously, as though someone might be watching her. Then in a timid voice, she said, “I always say a silent prayer before meals. I hope that’s all right with you.”
“Of course. I’ll do that, too.” Carmen turned off the tape recorder and bowed her head. Even though she went to church occasionally, she’d never made a habit of praying in public. A silent prayer shouldn’t draw as much attention, so she had no problem with bowing her head. However, instead of thinking of something to pray about, a sense of guilt overtook her. She was not only trying to get information for her story from Anna, but she’d invited her out for the afternoon, knowing Anna hadn’t gotten permission from her parents.
But how else am I going to get the information I need? Carmen told herself. I need to keep asking Anna questions for the rest of the afternoon, and sometime this week I’ll stop by Emma’s and ask her about rumschpringe.
Shipshewana
Emma had just finished washing the lunch dishes when a knock sounded on the front door. Since Lamar had gone next door to visit Mary’s husband, Emma dried her hands and went to see who it was.
When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Pam Johnston on the porch, holding a large paper sack.
“It’s good to see you,” Emma said, giving Pam a hug. “How have you been?”
“I am doing well, and it’s nice to see you, too.” Pam smiled, pushing a strand of long blond hair behind her ears. “If you’re not too busy right now, I have a favor to ask.”
“I was just finishing up with the dishes, but that can wait.” Emma opened the door wider and motioned for Pam to come in. “What can I help you with?”
Pam lifted the paper sack. “I’m making a quilted table runner for one of my friends, and I’m having trouble with the binding.”
“It’s basically the same as you did for the wall hanging you made during the classes you took from me,” Emma explained.
“But that was over a year ago,” Pam said. “Since I haven’t done any quilting since then, I can’t remember how I did the binding. I think I’m supposed to sew the strips together at right angles somehow.”
“Come into the other room, and I’ll show you what to do,” Emma said, leading the way.
Pam took the table runner out of the sack and placed it on the table. She’d used material with varied colors of purple and pink and placed them in a simple star pattern.
“This is lovely,” Emma said. “You’ve done a good job so far.”
Pam smiled widely, revealing perfectly straight teeth. “Thanks, Emma. That means a lot coming from you. I would have never learned how to quilt if it hadn’t been for your patience and expertise.”
Emma’s face heated with embarrassment. “I enjoy what I do, which is why I’ve continued teaching quilting classes.”
“Speaking of which, how are things going with your new group of students?” Pam asked.
Emma pursed her lips. “Not as well as I’d like, but then it’s not the worst class I’ve ever taught, either.”
Pam rolled her eyes. “I’m guessing the class Stuart and I were in was your worst, right?”
Emma gave Pam’s arm a tender squeeze. “I wouldn’t say worst. I was just new at teaching and wasn’t quite prepared for the challenge of instructing such a unique group of people.”
“It’s true. We were people with problems,” Pam said. “And you helped all of us learn a lot more than just how to quilt.”
“I hope I can do that with this group of students, too. I’m just a bit worried because, with the exception of Cheryl, no one has really opened up to me yet.”
“Do you think they all have a problem?”
Emma nodded. “I believe so.”
“I can tell you what Blaine’s problem is, if you want to know.”
Emma hesitated a minute. As much as she did want to know, she didn’t think it would be right to hear it from Pam. It might be like listening to gossip, and she’d always tried to avoid that.
Turning to face Pam directly, Emma smiled and said, “I appreciate the offer, but I think it might be best to see if Blaine chooses to share his burdens with either Lamar or me.”
“Oh, I see.” Pam’s downcast eyes told Emma she was disappointed. “So who are your other students?” Pam asked, quickly revising their topic.
“In addition to Blaine, I have a young Amish woman named Anna. Then there’s Cheryl, Carmen, Selma, and Jan’s friend, Terry.”
Pam snickered. “I’ve never met Terry, but if he’s anything like Jan, I’m sure your class must be quite interesting.”
“Oh, it is,” Emma admitted. “But then I guess that’s why I like the challenge of teaching.” She motioned to the quilted table runner Pam had brought. “Now shall we get started with that?”
Goshen
When Cheryl entered the bowling alley that evening, she glanced around but didn’t see any sign of Blaine. Well, it wasn’t quite seven o’clock, so she’d just take a seat and watch the other bowlers until he showed up. Rubbing her hands, which had gotten quite cold, she realized a pair of gloves would have felt good driving over. It was almost the middle of October, but it felt more like November.
Cheryl watched the activity buzzing around her. The first couple of lanes were reserved for bowling leagues. It looked like the men were against the women. In another lane, an elderly couple seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Looking in the other direction, she noticed a young mother rocking her baby while cheering for her husband after he’d rolled a strike. Cheryl wondered how the baby could sleep with all the noise from people whooping and cheering, balls rolling down the lanes, and pins getting hit and scattering into the pit.
As food smells wafted from the snack bar in the eating area, Cheryl’s stomach growled. Several people stood in line, waiting for their orders, while others sat at tables, enjoying the food. She remembered long ago when she’d first bowled with some friends, how good the food at the snack bar had tasted. Maybe she would treat Blaine to a hot dog and a shake after they did a little bowling.
Cheryl took a seat where she could watch the people bowl, but she’d only been there a few minutes when someone tapped her shoulder. She turned her head and was surprised to see Terry.
“How’s it going?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Umm…okay. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“I come here a lot. Bowling’s one of my favorite
things to do on a Saturday night.” He flopped down in the seat beside her. “Wanna join me in a game?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m meeting someone.”
Terry quirked an eyebrow. “Blaine?”
Cheryl nodded. “How’d you know?”
“I saw the two of you talking today during class. Figured he might be trying to set up a date. When we went outside afterwards, I heard him ask you to go bowling.”
“Oh, so you followed us here?”
“Uh, not really. I actually have bowled here many times.”
Cheryl kept her focus on the bowlers in the lane in front of her.
“You thirsty? I could get us a couple of sodas,” Terry offered.
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“You like to ride motorcycles?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never ridden one, although it does sound exciting.”
“Wanna try it sometime? I’ve got a nice bike, and—”
“Oh, there you are,” Blaine said, stepping up to Cheryl and touching her arm. “Have you been here long?”
She smiled up at him. “Only a few minutes.”
Blaine’s forehead wrinkled as he looked at Terry. “What are you doing here?”
Terry lifted his shoulders in a brief shrug. “Came to bowl, same as you. Fact is, I’m meeting my friend Jan and his daughter soon. Any objections?”
Blaine shook his head. “It’s a free country.” He held his hand out to Cheryl. “Ready to bowl and have some fun?”
She quickly rose to her feet. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
CHAPTER 19
Shipshewana
Would you like a cup of mint tea and one of those chocolate faasnachtkuche left over from today?” Emma asked when she entered the living room and found Lamar seated in his recliner near the fireplace.
“That sounds good,” he replied, “but I’m surprised there are any doughnuts left.”
“Most everyone went for the maple bars,” Emma explained.
“Guess I wasn’t paying close attention to who ate what. I was more interested in the look on Terry’s face when he was watching Blaine talk to Cheryl.”
“What kind of a look?” Emma asked.
“Irritation…jealousy…desperation.” Lamar gave his right earlobe a tug. “If I was a betting man, I’d say Terry’s interested in Cheryl.”
“What about Blaine? Do you think he likes her, too?”
Lamar shrugged. “He acts interested, but not in the same way as Terry. Blaine seems to be…Well, he wears kind of a placid expression when he looks at Cheryl. It makes me wonder if he’s only showing interest in her to irritate Terry.”
“Why would he do that?” Emma questioned.
“I don’t know, but I’d like to find out.”
“Pam Johnston came by this afternoon, and Blaine’s name came up.” Emma’s glasses slipped down her nose, and she pushed them back into place. “Pam wanted to tell me something about Blaine, but I didn’t think it would be right, so I moved our conversation in another direction.”
“Maybe I should pay more attention to Blaine,” Lamar said. “He might need a friend.”
Emma nodded. “You could invite him to go fishing with you sometime. That’s something you both have in common.”
“That’s a good idea, Emma. Maybe we could go some Saturday after class.” Lamar rose to his feet. “But enough about your students right now. Let’s head out to the kitchen and get our evening snack.”
Goshen
“What are you doing over there?” Blaine asked when Terry plopped down in the scorekeeper’s chair next to him.
“I’m gettin’ ready to bowl, same as you. Besides, this is the lane I was assigned,” Terry replied with a smirk. At least that was how Blaine interpreted the smug-looking smile on Terry’s face. What was the guy really doing here, anyway? Could he have known they were coming and showed up at the bowling alley on purpose, just to make trouble? Did he request the lane next to them, or had it really been assigned?
“Where are your friends?” Blaine asked. “Didn’t you say you were meeting them here?”
“I am. They just haven’t shown up yet.” Terry left his chair and took a seat on the bench beside Cheryl as she put on her bowling shoes. “Do you come here often?” he asked.
She shook her head as she finished tying the shoelaces. “This is my first time since I moved to Goshen. But even when I lived in Oregon, I didn’t bowl that often. Back home at our local alley, I remember enjoying the hot dogs and milk shakes and just hanging out with my friends. It’s fun to bowl, but I’m really not that good at it, and I’ve never had lessons.”
“I’d be happy to teach you,” Terry said, a little too eagerly.
“I’m Cheryl’s date, so if there’s any teaching to be done, I’m the one who’ll be doing it,” Blaine called over his shoulder. He’d be glad when Terry’s friends arrived. Maybe then he’d mind his own business and quit bothering Cheryl.
Terry didn’t seem to notice Blaine’s irritation; he was too busy grinning at Cheryl. The guy was clearly interested in her, but Blaine was sure the feeling wasn’t mutual. After all, she was too refined for a rough-around-the-edges kind of guy like Terry.
“Would you like me to help you pick out a ball?” Blaine asked, leaving his seat and standing next to Cheryl.
“No thanks, I brought my own,” Terry quipped.
Blaine narrowed his eyes. “I was talking to Cheryl.”
Cheryl, looking a little flustered, giggled and stood. “Thanks for the offer, Blaine, but I think I can pick out my own ball. I need one that’s not too heavy and fits my small fingers.” She hurried off toward the rack of balls, leaving Blaine alone with Terry.
“How many years have you been bowling?” Terry asked as he took his bowling ball out of the bag and wiped it down with a small towel.
“I bowled my first game when I was eight years old.”
“Guess you must be pretty good at it then.”
Blaine gave a nod, watching as Terry put his multicolored bowling ball on the ball return. “I used to play on a league, and my average is 190, but my highest score was 260.”
Terry snickered, stuffing the corner of the towel in his back pocket. “That’s nothing. My highest score was 275.”
“I’ll bet,” Blaine muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Blaine put his own ball on the ball return and seated himself in the scorekeeper’s chair again. He was beginning to wish he’d taken Cheryl out to dinner or to see a movie. He’d sure never expected to run into Terry here—not when the guy lived in Shipshewana.
Blaine inserted his and Cheryl’s names into the computer scoring system and felt relief when Cheryl returned with her ball, saying she was ready to start bowling.
Terry watched as Blaine showed Cheryl how to stand, hold the ball, and make her delivery. Everything was so precise—almost stiff-looking. Not the way Terry would do it, free and easy. Sure wish it was me teaching her, and not Blaine.
Terry studied Cheryl as she rolled her ball down the alley. It knocked down three pins and left seven standing.
“It’s okay, Cheryl,” Blaine said. “I bet you’ll pick them up on the next try.”
When her bright green ball returned, Cheryl tried again. This time she knocked down three more pins. “Guess it’s better than a gutter ball,” she said, smiling at Blaine. Then she glanced over at Terry and smiled at him, too. “Is it best for me to aim at the pins or the marks on the floor?”
“Aim at the pins,” Blaine said.
Terry shook his head. “I use the marks on the floor mostly.”
Cheryl lifted her hands. “That wasn’t much help. Guess I’ll figure it out for myself. Either way, or doing both, might make it easier.”
Boy, she sure is pretty—especially when she smiles, Terry thought. Sure wish she was my date tonight.
It was Blaine’s turn to bowl, and Cheryl sat beside Terry. As Blaine
stepped up to the line, Terry looked over at Cheryl and said, “Look at me over here by myself. I feel like the Lone Ranger.”
“Not anymore.” Cheryl gestured toward the entrance of the bowling alley. “It looks like your friend Jan just arrived.”
Terry swiveled in his seat. Sure enough, Jan was heading his way, and Star was right behind him. When they joined him a short time later, he introduced Star to Cheryl. “And you’ve already met my boss and good friend, Jan Sweet,” Terry added.
Cheryl smiled at Star. “It’s nice to meet you.” The young woman’s hair was straight and black, and she sported a small nose ring. Cheryl also noticed a little star tattooed on the young woman’s neck, but she wore a radiant smile and seemed quite bubbly.
“Same here,” Star said, shaking Cheryl’s hand. “Terry’s told us all about you.”
“It was all good, honest,” Terry said, his face turning slightly pink.
It was unexpected to see him blush like that. Cheryl was also surprised to hear that he’d been talking about her. Well, maybe it wasn’t just her he’d mentioned to Jan and Star. Terry might have talked about everyone in the class.
“Are we going to bowl, or stand around talking all night?” Blaine asked impatiently. He motioned to Cheryl’s ball. “It’s your turn now.”
“No, it’s not,” Terry spoke up. “You were about to bowl when Jan and Star showed up.”
Blaine’s face flamed as he glanced down at the ball in his hands. “Guess you’re right.”
Cheryl could see how embarrassed Blaine was, so she made light of it. “It’s no big deal. I do things like that all the time. The other day at work I went to the copy machine, and after I copied the document I’d taken there, I got distracted when someone asked me a question. Then when I went back to my desk I realized I didn’t have the copy I thought I’d made. So back to the copy machine I went, where I discovered that the original, as well as the copy, were still in the machine.”
The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt Page 13