Miriam's Quilt (6 page)

A smile bloomed on Laura’s face. Miriam wondered if anyone besides Seth ever cared to ask. “I am thinking about being a history teacher.”

“I think I would be scared out of my wits to leave home like that. Are you excited?”

“Oh yes. And a little scared. But one of my friends is going with me, and I hear they are very nice at the school.”

“I’m sure you will do well,” Miriam said.

Laura nodded gratefully. So did Seth.

“Laura is going to help me make a blanket for Lady Dancing before she goes away to the unisity,” Priscilla said.

Seth looked at Miriam. “Scilla calls her doll ‘Lady Dancing.’”

“We will just cut a square out of a piece of fabric,” Laura said. “I do not know how to make a proper quilt.”

Miriam held out her hand and Priscilla placed her doll into Miriam’s care. “What kind of a blanket do you want for Lady Dancing?”

“Like a patch quilt,” Priscilla said. “I have fabric of my mamm’s.”

“I can help you make one,” Miriam said.

Seth raised an eyebrow.

Laura did too. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. It is only a doll blanket.”

“But I want to help. That is, if you’d like me to. I can see that Lady Dancing is a special doll. She deserves a special blanket.”

“Okay,” Laura said. “You make beautiful quilts. It will probably be the fanciest doll blanket in the world.”

Fancy. Ephraim didn’t like fancy.

Miriam cleared her throat. “Not too fancy, of course. Tomorrow is the school program and Saturday is full of chores. Would you like to come to my house on Tuesday next?” She glanced at Seth. “Or, better yet, I could come to your house. Do you have a sewing machine?”

Priscilla nodded and showed all the teeth that were still in her mouth. “Can it be pink? Lady Dancing loves pink.”

“You and Laura find the fabric you want to use.”

“Okay,” Priscilla said.

Laura took Priscilla’s hand. “We want to say hello to the horses.”

Laura and Priscilla walked behind the stable and left Seth staring at Miriam with an unreadable expression on his face. He frowned slightly but his gray eyes glowed with an unexplained warmth.

He loosened her rope from the hook and handed it to her. “Denki,” he said. “If you are kind to my sisters, I am your friend for life.”

“Does that mean you might decide you like me after all?”

He rubbed his chin. “Jah, I might decide I like you.”

Miriam swung her leg over the horse and perched squarely in the saddle. “Too bad, because I don’t care if you like me or not.”

As she turned Daisy down the lane toward the green pastures and cheerful yellow wildflowers, she heard Seth Lambright chuckle for the first time ever.

“Denki, Yost. When will you be back to get me?”

Miriam jumped from the buggy with her sewing basket in hand.

Yost fingered the reins impatiently. “Can you walk home? I have places I need to be.”

Miriam frowned and squinted in Yost’s direction. “Where do you have to go that is so important? You don’t work today. Being with your friends does not count.”

“Maybe I’m earning some extra money for a car,” Yost said. “What do you think about that, Miss High-and-Mighty?”

She shook her finger at him. “That a silly idea has crawled into that empty head of yours and taken up residence. Come fetch me at two o’clock.”

Yost jiggled the buggy reins and the horse started forward. “Walk home. I won’t be back to get you.”

“But…”

Yost snapped the reins and the buggy was a hundred feet down the road before Miriam could argue. She huffed in exasperation and hoped that brother of hers would come to his senses before two o’clock.

Not likely.

In front of the Lambrights’ house, young grapevines grew up a trellis that formed a fence at the edge of the grass. Later in the summer it would be heavy with grapes.

Fourteen flagstones dotted the grass leading up to the Lambrights’ front door. Miriam remembered them well. When she and Susie and Mamm brought meals five years ago, Miriam would count the stones as she stepped on them. At the time, she’d found it fascinating that there were fourteen stones and she was fourteen years old.

Her heart raced as she stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. It surprised her how badly she wanted Seth and his sisters to like her, to think she was a good person. And when she was this anxious about pleasing someone, she usually messed up terribly, like at the stable when Seth told her she was trying too hard.

But he’d smiled when he said it.

A dog yipped incessantly inside the house as Miriam heard the patter of little feet. Priscilla opened the door, and a miniature white ball of wire and porcupine quills darted out of the house and barked around Miriam’s ankles.

“Pookie, be quiet,” scolded Priscilla. “Pookie…be nice.”

Pookie ignored the chastisement and kept up the noise until Seth appeared, grabbed the dog by the collar, and pulled it back into the house. Pookie gave Seth one yap of displeasure and trotted away without a second look at Miriam.

“Sorry about the dog,” Seth said. “He’s been kicked out of three obedience schools.”

Miriam willed her racing heart to slow down. “He’s cute.”

Seth grimaced. “Only if you are fond of nails and pokey things. Please, come in.”

Miriam walked into the Lambright house for the first time in her life. Neither she nor Seth thought it necessary to comment on the occasion.

“I chose the fabric I want,” Priscilla said, taking Miriam’s hand and leading her into the kitchen. “It’s pink and purple. And with flowers.”

Seth’s stepmother, Ellie, sat on her haunches, scrubbing a table leg. Ellie had come from Ohio to marry Seth’s fater a few years ago, but Miriam knew almost nothing else about her. Miriam scolded herself again. She hadn’t taken interest in any of the Lambrights.

Ellie popped up the minute she saw Miriam. “Why, Miriam Bontrager, how nice to see you. You were not here at church two weeks ago. Was everything all right?”

“Callie came down with a fever, and I stayed home to care for him.” She glanced at Seth. “I most surely would have come if I could have. Mamm told me the sermon lifted her heart, and she said you made delicious cookies for the dinner afterward.”

Ellie beamed. “Oh my, I never had so many people in my house. I wish you could have seen. I scrubbed and waxed this floor till it shown like a mirror, and then the men tramped the dirt in on their boots. But my walls shone clean and the whole room smelled of Pine-Sol.”

Miriam nodded. “I’m sure it was a wonder to behold.”

“Trying to keep this house clean with five messy children can send anyone to an early grave. It’s a task, I’ll tell you that.”

Miriam smiled to herself. She wasn’t the only one trying too hard. “You do a fine job. This home is cleanliness itself.”

Ellie wiped her hands on a dish towel. “I’m glad you’ve come for a visit. Sit down and have a cup of coffee. Special blend.”

Miriam motioned to Priscilla, who stood patiently waiting for Ellie to stop talking. “That would be lovely, but we should get started.”

“On what?”

“I’ve come to help Priscilla make a quilt for her doll.”

Ellie’s smile faded. “Oh. Well, I would have helped her myself, but keeping house is a constant job.”

“I know it is,” Miriam said. “My mamm barely has time to breathe most days.”

“Priscilla,” Ellie said, turning on her stepdaughter, “it was very rude of you to ask Miriam to make you a quilt when she has so many other things to do. That old burp rag works fine for a blanket.”

Out of the corners of her eye, Miriam saw Seth tighten his jaw muscles.

“I asked Priscilla if I could help her make a quilt,” Miriam said. “I’ve always wanted to make a doll blanket. It is no trouble at all.”

Seth unclenched his fists and fixed his eyes on Miriam.

“Where is the sewing machine, Priscilla?”

“Upstairs in Laura’s room.”

Ellie waved her hand in dismissal. “That old thing? It is very slow. I told Abbie we need a new one, but he doesn’t listen to me. The men don’t have to make school clothes for the children, so they don’t care what we go through to sew a decent stitch.”

“An old machine is fun. They are built so sturdy.” Miriam hoped Ellie didn’t mind being contradicted. She bent over to Priscilla. “I thought we could do a Nine-Patch.”

“What is a Nine-Patch?” Priscilla asked.

“I will draw you a picture. Ellie, would you like to come up with us? We can visit while we sew.”

Priscilla shook her head slightly and stared at Miriam with pursed lips. Miriam returned her gaze. Had she said something wrong?

“I’d like to, but I must get these scuff marks off the table legs where certain people keep scraping their shoes even though I tell them not to.”

Priscilla’s smile returned. “I will show you Laura’s room.”

Ellie sighed. “Don’t blame me if it’s a mess up there. Laura’s room is a pigsty, and I refuse to be her maid.”

Seth took the sewing basket from Miriam. “Cum, I will show you.”

As soon as they started up the steep steps, the dog came out of nowhere, stood at the bottom of the stairs, and resumed barking.

Seth furrowed his brow. “The good news is that Pookie does not climb stairs except in extreme emergencies.”

At the top of the stairs, they turned down a hall where a set of ladder stairs with a rope handrail led to the attic door. Priscilla went in front of Miriam.

Seth followed her. “Careful. I’m right behind you if you slip.”

Priscilla threw open the door and revealed a light-filled room with a large window shaped like an upside-down V. A small coal stove stood in the corner atop four cinder blocks, and a sewing machine sat next to it. The walls were bright white and bare except for a certificate tacked at the head of the bed. “C
ASHTON
H
IGH
S
CHOOL
, 4.0 GPA,” it read.

Laura stood by her bed sorting through fabric in a box. She looked up and smiled tentatively. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Miriam said.

Laura motioned to the sewing machine. “Seth carried it up. By himself. Without dropping it.”

Seth put Miriam’s sewing basket on the bed. “I’ll be going now. Have a gute time.”

Laura looked as uncomfortable as Miriam felt. Seth was the one person who could keep them from sinking into an awkward silence.

“Stay and keep us company,” Laura said. “Why do you have to run off so soon?”

Seth’s eyes danced in amusement. “Because I’ve got to get to my horses, and a quilting bee is no place for a man.”

“Oh, posh,” Laura said.

Seth reached out and cupped his hand around Miriam’s elbow. “Thank you for coming here. You’ll never know how grateful I am.”

“No thanks necessary,” Miriam said.

“You’ll never know.”

He bounded down the stairs, leaving Miriam to make conversation with someone she hadn’t ever made an effort to know. Her discomfort stuck in her throat like a dry piece of bread.

Miriam looked from one sister to the next then pointed to the pile of fabric on Laura’s bed. “Is all this your fabric?”

Laura waved in the direction of two other boxes sitting in the corner. “And that. My mamm loved to quilt. She collected scraps and bought some at auctions.”

“These is what I want for mine,” Priscilla said, holding up a pink piece and a purple piece and a floral print that incorporated both colors.

Miriam opened her sewing basket and pulled out a small notebook and a pen. She drew a big square on the page and filled it in with three rows and three columns of smaller squares. Nine squares altogether.

“This is what a Nine-Patch square looks like,” she said, showing Priscilla her drawing. “A big Nine-Patch quilt would be several of these smaller Nine-Patches sewn together. I am making one like this for a friend. But for your quilt, I think we should do nine squares. It will be just the right size for Lady Dancing.”

Priscilla jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Jah, that is esactly what I want.”

Miriam pulled out her tape measure, and Priscilla decided how big she wanted the quilt. Then the three of them marked the fabric and cut out squares.

“Now cum, Priscilla, and I will show you how to use the machine,” Miriam said.

Priscilla cheerfully hopped into the chair, too young to be intimidated by something new. Miriam regarded the machine, which looked old enough to be considered an authentic antique. Most of the gold paint on the letters on the front of the machine had worn off, and there was even a large scratch through the last letter, but Miriam could still read the word “D
AMASCUS
,” regardless.

Miriam pointed to the pedal. “Put both feet there.” Priscilla had to sit on the edge of her seat and stretch her legs, but she could reach the pedal.

“First, put the presser foot down and turn the handwheel, like this. Now slowly press down with your toes and relax and then press down with your heels.”

Priscilla giggled as the machine clicked and the needle moved in rhythm with her feet.

“A little slower. There you go. You want to go slow enough that your stitches will be straight.”

Once Priscilla got the hang of the movement, Miriam threaded the machine and then took a scrap of fabric and placed it under the presser foot. “Practice on this.”

She showed Priscilla how to turn the wheel to move the needle into the fabric. “Now move your feet up and down like I showed you.”

Priscilla worked the pedal, and the needle bobbed up and down through the fabric, leaving a crooked line of tiny stitches behind it.

“Gute, Priscilla. Now practice guiding the fabric through the machine to make a straight line. Use the line on the plate under the fabric to help you. And be careful of your fingers. I sewed right through mine once.”

“That must have hurt,” Laura said.

“Jah, my mamm made me get a tetanus shot.”

Laura groaned. “I can sympathize. I had to have about seven shots to get into school.”

Once Priscilla had sewn through her scrap, Miriam gave her a longer strip to practice on. Straight lines were the key.

Laura ran her hand over the pile of fabric on her bed. “Thank you for coming today. My mamm loved to quilt but never felt well enough to teach me. Not that I blame her. I could have learned if I hadn’t been so lazy.”

“You are going to college,” Miriam said. “I doubt you have a lazy bone in your body.”

Laura sat on her bed and pulled Miriam to sit by her. “You are uncomfortable around me, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Please don’t mind my frankness. I say what I think too often. But everybody acts nervous now that they know I’m jumping the fence.” She held up her hands as if to stop traffic. “Keep your children away from Laura Lambright. She will corrupt them.”

Priscilla giggled without taking her eyes from her sewing. “You are silly, Laura.”

Miriam looked at her hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want to be friends,” Laura said. “And I want you to know that I am a normal girl and you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Miriam lifted her feet onto the bed and tucked her knees under her chin. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

“Maybe ‘uneasy’ is a better word—that you’d rather not associate with me. But it’s not just you. Most Amish behave that way toward me.”

“Seth says I act that way all the time.”

Laura howled with laughter. “Oh, my brother! His mouth gets him into trouble sometimes. Like me.”

Miriam took a deep breath. “I suppose I am uncomfortable around you because I don’t understand you. It wonders me why you want to leave us.”

“Most of the great religious wars were fought because people didn’t understand each other. They didn’t want to understand each other.”

“I want to understand.”

“I am done practicing,” Priscilla said, scooting back in her chair and swinging her legs.

Miriam inspected Priscilla’s stitches. Then she pinned two squares together and handed them to her. “Sew these together, making the seam this wide. Be careful with the pins. Do you think you can do that?”

Priscilla nodded. “I will go slow.”

Miriam watched over Priscilla’s shoulder while she sewed the pieces of fabric together. Priscilla sewed to the end, cut her thread, and held up the two squares now attached with a nice curvy seam. “It’s crooked.”

Miriam handed Priscilla two more squares. “Try again on these while I unpick.” Turning to Laura, she said, “I spend more time taking stitches out than I do putting them in.” She sat on the bed and pulled the seam ripper from her sewing kit. “Tell me about your decision to go to college. I want to understand.”

“My mother got sick—depressed, Seth says.” Laura leaned in and whispered, “After the baby.”

Miriam glanced at Priscilla. Laura was wise. Priscilla need never carry guilt for what happened to her mother.