The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  “How about the two of us going fishing this afternoon?” Lamar suggested.

  “As nice as that sounds, I’ve made other arrangements for today,” Blaine said, with a feeling of regret. “If the weather’s decent, maybe we could go next week after class.”

  Lamar gave a nod. “That sounds like a plan.”

  When class was over, Anna hurried out the door behind Carmen. “I need to tell you something,” she said as they stepped into the yard.

  “What is it?” Carmen asked, halting her footsteps.

  “It’s about that bracelet you gave me.” Anna dropped her gaze to the ground. This was harder than she thought it would be. “As much as I’d like to, I—I just can’t keep it.”

  “How come?”

  “One of my sisters found it in my purse, and I’m afraid if I keep it my folks will find out.” Anna shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “I appreciate that you bought it for me, and I hope you’ll understand, but I need to give the bracelet back to you.”

  “I’ll take it back on one condition,” Carmen said as Anna handed her the bracelet.

  “What’s that?”

  “If you’ll allow me to buy you something else.”

  Anna shook her head. “That’s okay; I don’t really need anything.”

  “Oh please. I’d really like to get you something,” Carmen insisted. “Is there anything special you’d like?”

  Anna shook her head. “I’m fine, really.”

  Carmen looked disappointed, but she smiled and said, “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Terry grimaced as he watched Cheryl leave her car parked in Emma’s driveway and get into Blaine’s SUV. It was hard to see her go off with Blaine when he wished she was leaving with him. He consoled himself with the thought that he’d see Cheryl tomorrow at church and then they’d spend the afternoon together. Right now he needed to head over to Selma’s and take a look under her house. After that, he was anxious to take a ride on his Harley. He’d been struggling with an urge to smoke all morning and hoped that getting out on the open road might clear his head. Some days, Terry wondered if he’d ever lick his smoking habit, but because of Cheryl, he had a reason to conquer his addiction. She was a positive influence on his life in more ways than one. He actually found himself saying a little prayer that it would all work out.

  CHAPTER 28

  After Emma and Lamar finished eating their lunch, she returned to her quilting room to work on the quilt for Cheryl’s grandma. Taking a seat in front of her quilting frame, she studied the colorful quilt. A lump formed in her throat as she thought about the gift of love Cheryl wanted to bestow on her ailing grandmother. Emma hoped she could get it done in time for Cheryl to take to Oregon for her grandmother’s birthday. I wish I could be there to see the look of surprise on the old woman’s face when Cheryl presents her with the quilt, she thought. If Oregon wasn’t so far away, I’d ask if I could accompany Cheryl to the nursing home where her grandmother lives.

  “Are you sure you should be working on that quilt right now?” Lamar asked when he entered the room.

  Emma peered at him over the top of her glasses. “What do you mean?”

  “You look tired. I think you’ve been doing too much lately.” Lamar grabbed a chair, pulled it close to Emma, and took a seat. “I don’t want you to get sick or end up with a case of the shingles like you had a year ago in the spring.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” Emma said sweetly, “but I’m just fine. If I get tired, I’ll go take a nap.”

  “I have a better idea,” Lamar said. “Why don’t the two of us take a ride to Lake Shipshewana? We can either walk around for a bit or just sit on a bench and watch people fish. It’s a bit chilly outside, but not too cold yet, so it should be just right for a little relaxation together and a chance for some fresh air.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather go alone, so you can fish?” she asked, knowing how much her husband enjoyed his time at the lake and the opportunity to bring home his catch for supper.

  “That’d be nice, but I’ve made plans to go fishing with Blaine after class next week, so I can wait till then.” Lamar leaned over and kissed Emma’s cheek. “I’d like to spend this afternoon with you. It’s a good day to be out among nature.”

  Emma smiled. “A trip to the lake does sound nice. I’ll set the quilt aside for now, and return to it after we get back. Why don’t I fix a thermos of hot chocolate and take along some of those kichlin I baked yesterday?”

  Lamar smacked his lips. “That sounds wunderbaar.”

  As Terry lay on his back under Selma’s house, he noticed a large rip in the foil-wrapped ductwork. He shined his flashlight around, wondering how the ductwork had gotten torn. Then he noticed several paw prints on the ground. They didn’t look like those made by a cat, so he figured a family of raccoons might have been under the house and torn the ductwork open for warmth. Of course, Selma’s cat had probably taken advantage of it, too, and found a way to get inside.

  Terry crawled back out, went into Selma’s house, and told her what he’d found.

  “Can it be fixed?” she asked, scrunching up her face with a look of despair.

  “Yeah, but I’ll have to run to the hardware store to get some duct tape and aluminum wrap.”

  “I hate to put you to all that trouble,” she said.

  He shook his head. “It’s no trouble, and it won’t take me long. I’ll just hop on my cycle and be back in a flash.”

  Selma opened her purse and handed Terry a fifty-dollar bill. “Will this be enough?”

  “Yeah, that’s plenty. I’ll bring back the change.”

  “While you’re gone, I’ll fix some lunch,” Selma offered.

  “There’s no need to do that,” Terry said, shaking his head. “Don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

  “It won’t be any trouble at all, and it’s the least I can do to repay your kindness,” she insisted.

  Terry shrugged. “Okay, if you insist.”

  When Terry returned from the hardware store, he went back under the house and fixed the torn ductwork while Selma scurried around the kitchen, setting the table and putting things out to make ham-and cheese sandwiches. It wasn’t often she had anyone to share a meal with in her home, so she looked forward to visiting with Terry as they ate lunch together.

  When Terry returned to the house a short time later, she motioned to the table. “Like I promised, I have everything ready.”

  Terry grabbed the end of his ponytail and twisted it around his fingers a few times as he leaned against the counter in her kitchen. “I really don’t need any payment for doing a good deed, but since I am kinda hungry, I’ll be glad to take you up on that offer.”

  Selma smiled and gestured to the hallway outside of the kitchen. “You can wash up in the bathroom at the end of the hall.”

  Terry gave a nod and hurried down the hall.

  Selma went to the refrigerator and took out mustard, mayonnaise, and pickles. By the time she’d placed them on the table and added a bag of potato chips, Terry was back.

  “That’s a nice picture of you I saw sitting on the bookshelf just inside the living room,” Terry said. “How long ago was it taken?”

  “That’s actually my daughter, Cora, and the photo was taken some time ago,” Selma said. “Would you like a bowl of soup to go with the sandwiches? I have some leftover chicken noodle soup in the refrigerator I can heat up.”

  “Thanks anyway, but a sandwich will be plenty for me.” He grinned and pointed to the chips. “I might have some of those, too.”

  “Take all the chips you want.” Selma gestured to the chair at the head of the table. “Have a seat, and I’ll get you something to drink. Would you like coffee, milk, or apple cider? I don’t have any soda pop.”

  “A glass of milk would be great,” Terry replied, taking a seat at the table.

  Selma poured Terry’s milk and a glass of cider for herself. Then she took a seat across from him and opened the
bag of chips. While they ate, they discussed the quilting class.

  “I think everyone’s wall hanging but mine will turn out good.” Terry moaned. “I stink at sewing.”

  “It takes practice and patience,” Selma said.

  “Yeah, well, I probably won’t sew another thing after the classes are done.” Terry reached for his glass of milk and took a drink. “Don’t even know what I’m gonna do with the wall hanging.”

  “Maybe you could give it to someone—your parents, perhaps?”

  Terry shook his head. “Nope. My folks split up a few months ago, and I doubt either of ’em would want the wall hanging.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad my husband stayed true to me right up till the day he died.” Selma sighed. “I wish I could say the same for my daughter, though.”

  “Did she separate from her husband?” Terry asked.

  “Cora’s not married. She left home several years ago, and I haven’t seen her since my husband died.”

  “That really stinks.” Terry took a bite of sandwich. “I can sorta relate to what you said, though. I have two sisters—Faye and Jenny—but rarely see ’em.”

  “Do they live out of state?” Selma questioned, adding a few chips to the inside of her sandwich. It was the way she’d been eating them since she was a girl.

  “Naw. Faye lives in LaGrange, and Jenny lives in Goshen. They’re too busy with their own lives to pay much attention to me.” Terry’s forehead wrinkled. “’Course they don’t care for the way I look, so that might be part of the reason they don’t come around much.”

  “Maybe it’s your long hair your sisters don’t appreciate.”

  “My hair ain’t that long.” Terry gave his ponytail a flip. “It’s only shoulder-length when I’m wearing it down.”

  “Have you ever considered cutting it?”

  “Never gave it much thought.” Terry grabbed a few more chips. “Why, do you think I should?”

  Selma shrugged. “I don’t know; maybe.” Truthfully, she’d never been fond of long hair on a man. Anything past the ears seemed too long to her. But then she was a bit old-fashioned. At least that was what Cora had always said.

  “Maybe I will cut my hair someday,” Terry said, reaching for another piece of bread, “but right now I like it this way.”

  “What about Cheryl? Does she like the way you wear your hair?”

  Terry blinked a couple of times. “Uh—I’m not sure. What made you ask?”

  Selma lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. “It’s fairly obvious that you’re smitten with her.”

  “So tell me about your daughter,” Terry said. He obviously didn’t want to talk about Cheryl. “How come she doesn’t make contact with you?”

  “We don’t see things the same way.” Selma’s voice dropped to a near whisper. Whenever she looked at Cora’s picture, her beautiful brown eyes seemed to bore right through her. But Selma couldn’t get rid of the photo. It was all she had to remind her of the little girl who used to live here, whom she still loved but couldn’t reach. “Cora has never liked me telling her what to do,” she explained. “So she takes the easy road and avoids me.”

  “Guess we have something in common then,” Terry said. “We both have family members who want nothing to do with us.”

  Winona Lake, Indiana

  “This seems like a nice enough place,” Cheryl told Blaine as they entered the BoatHouse Restaurant. Looking around, she noticed right away the welcoming décor.

  “Yeah, my boss, Stuart, told me about it. Said the restaurant has great year-round lakeside dining, not to mention some pretty good food.” Blaine patted his stomach. “Since it’s way past lunchtime, I’m more than ready to eat.”

  Cheryl smiled as the hostess seated them in a booth near a window with a gorgeous view of the lake. Sliding into their seats, she felt like they had the whole place to themselves, with the high-backed booths separating them from the rest of the patrons. “It was worth the drive down here, don’t you think?” she asked Blaine.

  He nodded and perused the menu the hostess had given them before leaving their table. “Would you like some fried calamari, mozzarella wedges, or a battered veggie platter as a starter?”

  “If I had an appetizer, I’d probably be too full to eat anything else.” Cheryl studied the soups and salads on the menu. “The oriental chicken salad sounds good.”

  “What else would you like?” Blaine asked.

  “Just the salad will be enough.”

  He studied her from across the table. “If you eat like that all the time, no wonder you’re so thin.”

  Cheryl laughed lightly, feeling the heat of a blush.

  Blaine tapped the menu with his index finger. “Think I’ll have a shrimp cocktail and the Asian cashew chicken. I’ll probably get a side order of sweet potato fries, too.”

  When their waitress returned, they gave her their orders; then Blaine started talking about the lake again. “From what Stuart’s said, Winona Lake is a great shopping spot for anyone looking for unusual things like pottery, jewelry, wood carvings, and handmade silverware. After we finish eating, maybe you’d like to browse some of the shops while I check out the lake for the best fishing spots.”

  “Are you planning to fish today?” Cheryl questioned. She wondered if he hadn’t brought her here just so he could spend the afternoon fishing.

  “No, not today, but if I decide this is a good place to fish for bass, I might try it out sometime. Do you like to fish?” he asked.

  “No, not really.”

  “Oh, I see.” Blaine’s frown revealed his disappointment. “So is it okay with you if I check out some fishing spots while you shop?”

  She nodded. “Sure, that’s fine.” Truthfully, Cheryl didn’t think this was much of a date if they went their separate ways after lunch, but she chose not to make a big deal out of it. Besides, it would give her a chance to look for some things she hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. She might find something nice to give Grandma for her birthday, in case Emma didn’t get the quilt done on time.

  As they ate, Blaine talked about fishing, while Cheryl stared out the window. She tried to act interested at first, but it was obvious that Blaine’s mind was on fishing, not her. Cheryl found herself drawn to the beauty of the lake and the cottages dotting the shoreline. She wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning and watch the sun rise as it reflected across the lake.

  “Look at this.” Cheryl motioned to the pamphlet she’d found propped up with the dessert specials, explaining the history of the restaurant. “It says here that this restaurant was built on the same foundation as the cafeteria that was constructed here in the 1940s, when the original boathouse was removed.”

  “Hmm…That’s interesting.”

  Cheryl kept reading as Blaine finished eating his fries. “And get this. The original boathouse was built way back in 1895. It also says that in the 1960s, the cafeteria was converted to a roller skating rink.”

  “Is that so?” Blaine reached for his glass of orange soda and took a drink.

  “I’ll bet it was fun to roller skate here by the lake.” Cheryl looked up from the brochure and realized that Blaine, now gazing out the window, was no more interested in the history of the restaurant than she was with his fishing stories. She couldn’t help wondering why he never asked anything about her. Their conversation today, as well as the other times they’d talked, seemed pretty one-sided. Maybe she’d made a mistake agreeing to go out with him again.

  When the meal was over, Blaine said he would meet Cheryl where his SUV was parked, in two hours.

  “That’s fine. I’ll see you then.” Cheryl hurried off toward one of the stores.

  She felt guilty for feeling this way, but she actually looked forward to being alone for a while. It wasn’t that Blaine was unpleasant; they just didn’t have much in common. Maybe I haven’t given Blaine a fair chance, Cheryl thought. Guess I could try fishing with him sometime; although sitting in a boat wit
h a fishing pole really isn’t my thing.

  CHAPTER 29

  Shipshewana

  Despite the chill in the air, the lake is beautiful today,” Emma said, looking at the pristine waters as Lamar helped her out of the buggy. “I’m glad you suggested we come here this afternoon.”

  Lamar’s eyes twinkled. “I thought we both needed a little break, and there’s nothing like fresh lake air to make one feel energized. Look there, toward the center of the lake,” he said with the excitement of a young boy.

  Emma turned her attention to the geese Lamar was pointing at.

  “Good thing we brought some bread along. Maybe we can entice them over to the shoreline so we can feed ’em.”

  Breathing deeply of the fresh air, Emma watched as the majestic-looking birds glided quietly over the surface, making small ripples in the lake’s calm waters. Lamar had been right—the air was crisp and clean smelling. As always, Lamar looked at the positive side of things. She thought back to when she’d first met him and how in the beginning, she had avoided spending time with him. It didn’t take long for Lamar to worm his way into her heart, however, and she was glad she’d agreed to become his wife. Others, including their families, said they complemented each other.

  I think it’s true, Emma mused, glancing at Lamar as he secured their horse to a nearby tree. I certainly enjoy his company, and we work well together at home and teaching the quilting classes.

  As they walked down the path, Emma’s thoughts shifted, reflecting on all the times she’d come to the lake with her first husband and how Ivan had carved their initials in a tree that stood in this very spot until a storm took it down. As difficult as it had been losing Ivan, Emma knew that she’d been blessed in both of her marriages. That special old tree was gone, but thanks to Lamar cutting out the piece of wood with the initials in it, Emma had a beautiful table that would someday become a cherished heirloom for her children and grandchildren.