The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club (16 page)

When her prayer ended, she opened her eyes just in time to see a butterfly, with its colorful wings of yellow and black, flitting around her head. Emma smiled, feeling peace and never tiring of God’s almighty showcase.

Mishawaka

As Pam stood in the laundry room staring at the ugly chocolate stain on her blouse, a sense of bitterness welled in her soul. Not only had Stuart’s carelessness ruined her new blouse, but he’d reneged on his promise to attend the quilting classes with her. It wasn’t right to make a promise and then break it, but Stuart didn’t seem to care. Well, maybe she’d enjoy the class more without him, and maybe after being stuck at home watching the kids this Saturday, he’d change his mind and agree to go with her for the three lessons after that. If he didn’t, she wouldn’t be going fishing or camping with him ever again. Not that she wanted to go anyway. She disliked sleeping in a tent, and sitting in a boat for hours on end was just as bad. She hated everything about spending time in the dirty, bug-infested woods.

When Pam first married Stuart, he’d mentioned wanting to go camping together, but she’d had no idea he meant in a tent. She’d suggested they get an RV, which had many of the conveniences she was used to at home, but Stuart shot that idea down, saying he preferred to rough it, and that he thought sleeping in a tent was a lot more fun.

Fun for him, maybe, Pam fumed, tossing her blouse into a bag of cleaning rags. That’s all it was good for now. She would never wear it again—not even around the house. I should go find that stupid flannel shirt of his and throw it in this bag, too. It would serve him right for ruining my blouse
.

The sound of children’s laughter drifted through the open window of the laundry room, reminding Pam that Devin and Sherry were playing in the backyard. They’d gone outside shortly after they arrived home from school, and Pam figured they’d stay out there until she called them in for supper.

She glanced at the small clock she kept on the shelf above the dryer. It was almost four. Stuart should be getting home from work in the next hour or so. Since it was a warm spring evening, she hoped he’d be willing to cook some hot dogs and burgers on the grill. Those would be good with the potato salad she’d made earlier. If he wasn’t willing to barbecue, she’d have to broil the meat in the oven.

“Gimme that! Gimme that right now!” Devin’s angry voice pulled Pam’s thoughts aside. When she looked out the window, she saw Sherry running across the yard with a basketball. Devin was right on her heels.

Pam waited to see what her son would do, but when he pushed his sister down and the children started shouting and hitting each other, it was time to intervene.

“What’s the problem here?” Pam asked after she’d rushed out the door and up to the children.

Devin pointed to the ball.

“Now, just say what you mean, because I don’t understand pointing,” Pam said, trying to keep her voice calm.

“She took my ball and won’t give it back!” Devin’s brown eyes flashed angrily as he glared at his little sister and made a face.

Sherry’s lower lip protruded, and her blue eyes filled with tears. “He wouldn’t let me play with it.”

Devin wrinkled his freckled nose. “You can’t play basketball ‘cause you can’t throw the ball high enough to reach the hoop.”

“Can so.”

“Can not.”

“Can so, you stupid head.” Sherry raised her hand like she might slap her brother.

“I’m not a stupid head. You’re a—”

Pam stepped quickly between them. “That’s enough! There will be no more hitting, and it’s not nice to holler and call each other names.”

Sherry tipped her blond head back and looked up at Pam with a most serious expression. “You and Daddy holler at each other.”

A feeling of shame washed over Pam. Her daughter was right; she and Stuart did argue a lot.

Determined not to set a bad example for Devin and Sherry, Pam decided right then that she wouldn’t argue with Stuart anymore—at least not in front of the children. Of course, she would need help controlling her tongue, because Stuart seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons.

Pam crossed her fingers and said a quick prayer. Maybe the two gestures didn’t mix, since crossing one’s fingers was superstitious, but if she was going to keep from arguing with Stuart, then she’d need all the help she could get.

She took the ball from Sherry and handed it to Devin. Then she reached for Sherry’s hand and said, “Why don’t you come in the house with me? You can help me bake a cake for dessert tonight. How’s that sound?”

The child nodded and walked obediently with Pam toward the house. They stopped to look at the tulips blooming around their deck. Pam was happy to see all the other flowers that were sprouting up and starting to bloom in the various nature gardens she’d created. All the pretty flowers and shrubs added just the right touch to their charming Cape Cod home.

When they stopped on the patio to bring in a plant Pam needed to repot, Sherry pivoted toward Devin and stuck out her tongue.

“That’s not nice,” Pam scolded, turning the girl toward the door. She couldn’t imagine where her daughter had picked up such a bad-mannered gesture.

“I saw you stick your tongue out at Daddy once,” Sherry said as they stepped into the kitchen.

Setting the plant near the window, Pam flinched. She really did need to set a better example for the children. Opening the curtains so the plant would get more sunlight, Pam sighed deeply and leaned her head against the window.
It’s gotten so bad that even the kids are imitating us now
.

Shipshewana

For the last three days, Jan had been working late, and by the time he got home from work, all he wanted to do was sleep. But Brutus had other ideas. Locked safely away in his new dog pen, which Jan had built a few days ago, the poor dog seemed to want Jan’s attention as soon as Terry dropped him off at the house.

“Oh. Oh. Looks like Brutus got out,” Terry said as he pulled his truck into Jan’s yard that afternoon.

Jan rubbed his tired eyes and squinted. Sure enough—there lay Brutus on the front porch. “For cryin’ out loud!” Jan opened the door and hopped out of the truck. When he stepped onto the porch, he noticed a blue cotton shirt lying beside Brutus.

“What’s up, man? You look upset,” Terry said when he joined Jan on the porch.

Jan grunted and pointed to the shirt.

“Where’d that come from? Is it yours?”

“Nope, but I’ll bet somebody’s missin’ it, and only Brutus knows where it belongs.”

Terry’s brows lifted high, and then he leaned over the porch railing and spat on the ground. “Not only is your mutt an escape artist, but looks to me like he’s also a thief.”

Jan reached under his biker’s cap and scratched the side of his head. “Guess I’d better find out how he got out of his pen and make sure it don’t happen again.”

W
hew! That was quite a workout we had today, wasn’t it?” Pam asked her friend Heather after they’d finished their aerobics class for the day.

Heather nodded and pushed a loose strand of jet-black hair behind her right ear. “It got my heart pumping pretty good. That’s for sure.”

“Do you have time to sit at the juice bar and visit a few minutes?” Pam asked. “I really need to talk.”

“Sure, no problem. Ron’s working late at the office like he usually does on Fridays, so I don’t have to be home for a couple more hours.”

They both found seats at the bar and ordered cranberry juice over ice.

“What’s up?” Heather asked. “Even after that workout we just had, you look kind of stressed.”

Pam drew in a quick breath and blew it out with a puff of air that lifted a piece of hair that had stuck to her sweaty forehead. “I’ve been stressed for several weeks, and it’s only gotten worse.”

“What’s wrong? Are the kids getting on your nerves?”

“It’s not the kids; it’s Stuart. Despite the fact that we’ve been seeing a counselor for the last month, things aren’t any better between us.”

“But you’re taking that quilting class together, right?”

“Well, we were, but Stuart hated it so much he said he didn’t want to go again.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t force the issue.”

Pam took a drink of juice and frowned. “I’m not trying to force him to take the class, Heather. At first he agreed to go if I promised to go fishing with him four more times.”

Heather’s eyebrows squeezed together. “I know how much you hate to fish, so why would you even agree to do such a thing?”

“I agreed to it because our counselor said we should do some things together, and also because I wanted Stuart to learn how to quilt with me.”

“But why? You had to know he wouldn’t like it. I mean, most men I know wouldn’t be caught dead with a needle and thread in their hands. And Stuart sure doesn’t seem like the type who’d want to learn how to sew.”

Pam wrinkled her nose. “You’re right about that. All he ever thinks about is hunting, fishing, and sports. And since I don’t enjoy any of those things, I decided it was time for him to do something just for me … something that would prove how much he loves me. But I’m beginning to think he doesn’t love me at all.”

“Has he said he doesn’t love you?” Heather asked.

“No, but he rarely says so anymore. And when he does, it’s usually because he wants me to do something for him. I can tell by the way Stuart acts that whatever love he used to feel for me has dried up and blown away.” Tears welled in Pam’s eyes and threatened to spill over. “I cook all his favorite foods, dress in stylish clothes, and work out here every week so I can keep my figure, but he barely notices me. When we were dating, he paid me compliments about my looks, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me. But that’s over now—just like our marriage.”

“You don’t think there’s another woman, do you?”

Pam shook her head. “I just think he’s selfish and so into himself that he doesn’t see me or even acknowledge my needs. Besides, with the sloppy way he often dresses, I doubt any other woman would be attracted to him. I know I wouldn’t have been if he’d looked like that before we started dating.”

“Have you tried talking to him about the way he dresses and how he treats you?”

Pam flipped the ends of her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, dozens of times. He just shrugs it off and says I’m too demanding. The other day he even said I was a high-maintenance woman and that I should quit putting so many expectations on him.”

“What’d you say to that?”

“I said he was insensitive and only thinks of himself.”

Heather drank the rest of her juice. “Maybe you and Stuart should go away by yourselves for a few days and see if you can talk things through. A little romance wouldn’t hurt either,” she added with a grin.

Pam rolled her eyes. “If I suggested going away by ourselves, Stuart would probably want to go camping—in a tent, of all things.”

“Just put your foot down and tell him you want to stay at a nice hotel or a bed-and-breakfast. I hear there’s some lovely B&Bs between Middlebury and Shipshewana.”