The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt (37 page)

Dr. Benson had given Selma some pills to mix in Scruffy’s food that would help with infection. He’d also given Scruffy a shot and suggested that Selma get the cat neutered as soon as he’d recovered from his injuries, as it might make him less apt to fight. The doctor said he thought Scruffy was about six months old. When Selma went back with the cat for his follow-up appointment in two weeks, he would get the needed shots, and Selma would set up another appointment for his surgery.

Selma reached down, and when she stroked Scruffy’s silky head, his left ear twitched, but he didn’t open his eyes. The cat hadn’t done much more than sleep since she’d brought him home. At least early this morning she’d been able to get him to drink some water and eat a little food. The vet said not to worry if Scruffy didn’t have much of an appetite and seemed to sleep a lot. Those were some of the side effects from the medication he’d been given. Plus, the cat was sore from the sutures, which was another good reason to keep him calm and quiet.

As Selma continued to look at the slumbering cat, she wished she could take away his pain. “You’ll be okay, boy,” she whispered, petting Scruffy’s head. “You have a home with me for as long as you like.”

The cat emitted a soft purr, and Selma sighed contentedly. It felt kind of nice to know that someone needed her, even though it was an animal. She hadn’t experienced that in a long time.

Topeka, Indiana

Carmen had been driving around Amish Country all afternoon, stopping to talk to a few Amish people and watching them interact with each other in the various Amish-run stores. She needed to start writing her article soon but had been procrastinating.

As she parked in front of another Amish store, she thought about the good time she’d had with Paul last Saturday evening. In fact, she found herself daydreaming about him a lot lately. If she closed her eyes, she could almost see his smiling face, hear the laughter in his voice, and smell his musky aftershave.

She also thought about precious little Sophia and how every time the little girl saw Carmen, she would reach out her arms to her. Until she’d gotten to know her niece, Carmen had never desired to be a mother. Now, the idea of having a child of her own would be like a dream come true.

Carmen’s cell phone rang, interrupting her musings. She glanced at the caller ID and grimaced. It was her boss—probably calling to check up on her again. She thought about letting it go into voice mail but knew she’d be prolonging the inevitable. Mr. Lawrence was a persistent man and would no doubt keep calling until she finally answered.

“Hello, Mr. Lawrence,” Carmen said, holding the phone up to her ear.

“Hey, Carmen. I’m calling to see how things are going. Have you got that article finished yet?”

“No, I’m still working on it, and I thought you said I could have the full six weeks.”

“I did say that, but there was another TV show on about the Amish last night, and I thought this would be a good time to publish the article on wild Amish teenagers and their parents who look the other way while the kids do whatever they want.”

“It’s not like that, Mr. Lawrence. From what I’ve found out—”

“So how soon can you have the article done?” he asked, cutting her off.

“I—I don’t know. I’m going to need a little more time to gather information.”

“Well, good grief, you’ve been there for four and a half weeks. I’d think by now you ought to know something.”

“I have learned a lot,” Carmen said, “but not enough to write the story yet. I promise I’ll have something written up soon.”

“How soon?”

Doesn’t he ever let up?
Carmen pressed her hands together until her veins protruded. “I need another week and a half. Can you give me that long to complete the story?” she asked, trying her best to sound cheerful.

Silence. Then he said, “Okay. A week and a half, that’s all. I expect a story on my desk by then, and it had better be a good one, Carmen, or you’ll be back to writing news about the freeway traffic.” Mr. Lawrence hung up without even saying good-bye.

Carmen let her head fall forward onto the steering wheel and groaned.
I need to write that article, no matter how much I don’t want to
.
If I don’t, I may lose my job. But how can I in good conscience write the negative article he wants me to when it’s not even true that all Amish kids go wild into drinking, drugs, and sex during their running-around years?

Middlebury

“Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,” Anna said after her family sat down to eat supper.

“Can it wait till we’re done eating?” Dad asked. “I’ve been working hard all day and am really tired, so I’d like to eat without a bunch of noisy conversation.”

Anna nodded. “Sure, Dad, it can wait.”
Maybe it’s better this way
, she decided.
It would probably be best to talk to Mom and Dad privately, rather than in front of my sisters and brothers. I’m just anxious to get this over with
.

Earlier that day while working at the window shop, Anna had decided to tell her folks that she planned to go to Florida with Mandy in December. She was tired of keeping her plans bottled up inside and knew the longer she waited, the harder it would be. She hoped that for once they would understand her feelings and accept her decision to leave home and strike out on her own.

As Anna began eating, her stomach tightened. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to finish her meal. The longer she waited to say what was on her mind, the more she questioned her decision to tell Mom and Dad tonight. Would it hurt to wait awhile longer—maybe until after the last quilting class? By then, she’d have her wall hanging done and could give it to Mom as a sort of peace offering.

When the meal was over and her siblings had left the kitchen, Anna began helping Mom clear the table. She’d just placed the first stack of dishes in the sink, when Dad spoke up. “Anna, what was it you wanted to talk to me and your mamm about?”

Anna swallowed hard and turned to face him. “It was nothing important. It can wait till another time,” she said, hoping the trembling she felt in her body didn’t show in her voice.

“Now’s a good time for me.” Dad leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “Take a seat, Anna, and tell us what’s on your mind.”

Anna hesitated, and then looked at Mom, hoping she’d come to her rescue and say she didn’t need to talk about anything tonight. But Mom took a seat at the table and motioned for Anna to do the same.

“Is this about the bracelet that young woman from the quilting class gave you?” Mom asked after Anna had seated herself in the chair next to her.

Anna gasped. “H–how do you know about that?”

“Susan told us,” Dad announced. “She also admitted that she took the bracelet from your purse and put it in a shoe box in her closet, but that you found it there and took it back.” He released his hands from behind his head, leaned forward slightly, and stared hard at Anna. “Why would you feel the need to have a fancy bracelet?”

“I—I didn’t feel the need,” Anna stammered. “Carmen gave it to me as a gift, and I—”

“And you just couldn’t say no?”

Dad’s piercing gaze made Anna shiver, and she quickly looked away.

“So was the bracelet what you wanted to tell us about?” Mom asked, reaching over to touch Anna’s arm.

Anna knew bringing up Florida right now would cause a rift, and she wasn’t prepared to deal with an uproar. As she tried to think of something to say, a cry from her youngest sister arose from the next room.

“Mom, Susan knocked your pretty vase on the floor!” Becky shouted.

Anna watched with relief as both her parents jumped up from their chairs and headed for the living room.

While Mom and Dad were gone, Anna got up and quickly finished washing the dishes. When that chore was done, she went up to her room and shut the door. A headache had been coming on all afternoon, and now her head was thumping so hard she could hardly think.

I’m going to bed
, she told herself. All she wanted was to get rid of the pain in her head and blot out what she knew would be coming when she finally found the nerve to tell Mom and Dad she was leaving.

C
HAPTER
33

Shipshewana

T
oday was Emma’s fifth quilting class, and Terry looked forward to going. Not because he liked to quilt, but he was anxious to see Cheryl again and hopefully go to lunch with her after the class. He hoped by getting there early he’d be able to sit beside her while they worked at the sewing table. It wouldn’t set well with him if Blaine got there first and nabbed that chair. As far as Terry was concerned, after what Blaine had pulled last Saturday, leaving Cheryl without a ride home, she shouldn’t give him the time of day.

Terry had just parked his truck and gotten out, when “Mr. Clean’s” SUV pulled in. As soon as Blaine hopped out, Terry marched up to him and said, “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to show your face here this morning.”

Blaine blinked, taking a step back. “Wh–what do you mean?”

“You left Cheryl alone without a ride home last Saturday, remember?”

Blaine’s eyes narrowed as he came forward, poking his finger into Terry’s chest. “As I recall, you stole my date.”

Keeping a lid on his temper, Terry looked Blaine right in the eye and calmly said, “You were nowhere around, so what was I supposed to do, leave her stranded?”

Blaine shook his head. “Do you really think I’d leave her alone like that, without transportation? I can’t believe you’d confront me with a statement like that.”

“Look,” Terry said, trying to smooth things over and not wanting to provoke a fight, “I was only trying to help by giving her a lift.”

“Well, you could have helped a lot more if you hadn’t shown up and whisked Cheryl away. Eventually, we’d have found each other, and then I would have taken her home.”

Cheryl joined them on the porch just then. Terry was surprised; he’d been so intent on his discussion with Blaine, he hadn’t heard her car pull in.

“Do you really need to rehash this again? I thought I’d explained all this to you on the phone last weekend,” she said, looking at Blaine.