The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club (19 page)

BOOK: The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club
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How crazy is this? Star thought. Now I’m defending my mom? Guess there’s something to the saying that a person can talk bad about someone in their family, but no one else had better do it
.

 

Emma came around behind the table and placed her hands on Star’s shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to be alone when you were sick. I’m sure you must have been lonely and scared.”

 

“Yeah, well, I appreciate your sympathy and all, but it won’t change the past. Now can we forget all this doom and gloom and get on with our lesson?”

 

Emma, taken aback by the young woman’s abruptness, quickly took a seat on the other side of the table. “Before we begin, I’d like to see how each of you did on your quilting projects this week.”

 

The students placed their unfinished wall hangings on the table, and Emma looked them over. She was disappointed to see that very little work had been done to Pam’s and nothing at all on Stuart’s.

 

As though sensing her disappointment, Stuart said, “Pam did a little more sewing on her project before Sherry got sick.”

 

“What about you, man?” Jan spoke up. “Doesn’t look like you’ve done a thing since last Saturday.”

 

Emma tensed, thinking Stuart might lash out at Jan, but she was surprised when he lowered his gaze to the table, removed his ball cap, and mumbled, “I didn’t do anything to it ‘cause I wasn’t planning to come back to the class again.”

 

Emma nodded slowly. “I had a feeling that might be the case.”

 

“It’s not that I have anything against you people,” Stuart was quick to say. “I just don’t feel comfortable about using a needle and thread. Besides, with the way Pam’s talked about our problems, I figured you all probably think I’m a terrible husband.”

 

No one said anything. Then Emma finally spoke. “Marriage is about loving the other person enough to do some things just for them—even things you don’t want to do.”

 

“Guess you’re right.” Stuart pulled his fingers through the top of his hair, making it stand nearly straight up. “So maybe I’ll change my mind and stick it out through the whole six weeks. Then I’ll see if Pam keeps her end of the bargain and goes fishing with me.”

 

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Jan spoke up. “Most of the women I’ve ever known say they’ll do one thing and end up doing just the opposite.”

 

“Men are no better,” Star interjected. “All my mom’s
wonderful
boyfriends have been losers—promising this, promising that, and never keeping their word on anything.”

 

Emma figured the conversation was becoming too negative and might lead to a disagreement, so she suggested that everyone take turns using the battery-operated sewing machines so they could get more of their pattern pieces sewn together.

 

While they worked, Emma was surprised to see how much more easygoing and relaxed Stuart seemed to be. He even cracked a few jokes.

 

“I may not be so good at sewing,” he said, “but there’s one thing I know I can do better than anyone else.”

 

“What’s that?” Ruby Lee questioned.

 

“I can read my own handwriting.”

 

Ruby Lee chuckled; Paul grinned; Star rolled her eyes; and Jan just shook his head.

 

Stuart held up the few pieces he’d managed to sew. “Now look at this mess. Good grief, it takes too many pieces of this little material to make up each point of the star, and to make things worse, I can’t even sew a straight seam!”

 

“You’ll get a feel for it,” Emma said. “It just takes practice.”

 

Stuart placed his material on the table and pointed out the window. “Those cows I see in that pasture across the way remind me of a story someone told me at the sporting goods store the other day.”

 

“What was it?” Paul asked.

 

“Well, a guy and a gal were walkin’ along a country road, and when they came to a bunch of cows, the guy said, ‘Would you just look at that cow and the bull rubbing noses?’ He glanced over at his girlfriend and smiled. ‘That sight makes me want to do the same.’ The girlfriend looked that fellow right in the eye and said, ‘If you’re not afraid of the bull, then go right ahead.’”

 

Stuart’s joke brought a smile to everyone lips, including Jan’s.

 

Emma wondered if perhaps Stuart felt freer to express himself when his wife wasn’t with him. If so, it was a shame, because God never intended for married couples to put each other down or argue about petty things.

 

 

Ruby Lee had a hard time keeping her mind on the straight line she was trying to make while using Emma’s battery-operated sewing machine. Gene was having a meeting with the church board this morning, and she couldn’t help but worry about how things were going. Would they listen to what he had to say or insist on having their own way? She knew that earlier this week Gene had talked to each of the board members individually and hoped he’d been able to make them see that he wasn’t trying to get the church into debt. He just wanted to see the congregation take a step of faith so it could grow and reach out to more people in the area.

 

Resolving to put her concerns aside, Ruby Lee looked over at Emma and said, “How are things with your goat? Maggie, is it?”

 

Emma nodded.

 

“Is she still getting out of her pen?”

 

“Not since my son-in-law fixed the latch on the gate. But then, knowing that sneaky little goat, she might just find a way to open it.”

 

“Boy, I can sure relate to that,” Jan said with a grunt. “My German shepherd, Brutus, has turned into the neighborhood thief, so I had to build him a dog pen. He’s managed to dig his way out of it a couple of times, but I fixed that by diggin’ a small trench all the way around the pen and then puttin’ some wire fencing in the ground.”

 

“That was good thinking,” Star said, giving Jan a thumbs-up.

 

“Yeah, but it didn’t solve the problem, ‘cause the other day Brutus got out again.” Jan’s forehead creased, but the stress lines disappeared under his biker’s bandanna. “Since I didn’t see no sign of a hole anywhere, I’m guessin’ he had to have climbed over the top.”

 

“My folks used to have a dog that did that,” Stuart spoke up. “Dad put some wire fencing over the top of the dog pen, and that solved the problem.”

 

“Guess I might hafta do that if Brutus keeps gettin’ out. Sure can’t have him runnin’ all over the neighborhood stealin’ other people’s things. I just don’t have the time to be chasin’ all over the place, tryin’ to find out who the items belong to that Brutus keeps takin’. If he doesn’t quit it, I’m either gonna be the laughin’stock of the whole neighborhood, or no one will be speakin’ to me.” Chuckling, he added, “Guess there’s a positive side to all of this though.”

 

“What’s that?” Paul asked.

 

“I’m actually gettin’ to meet some of my neighbors when I go around lookin’ for the owner of the things Brutus has taken.”

 

That comment got a good laugh from everyone.

 

“I heard about a cat that was a kleptomaniac,” Ruby Lee said. “After talking to an expert on the subject, the people were told that the cat was probably bored and needed more attention. I guess the cat stole more than a hundred items before the owners finally figured out what to do about the problem.”

 

“Lack of attention could be why your dog’s getting out of his pen,” Star said. “I visited a website once when I was doin’ a research paper for twelfth-grade English. The whole thing was about pets that escape from their pen and run off. Some animal psychologist came up with the idea that when a dog does that, it’s also in need of more attention.”

 

Jan nodded as he popped a few of his knuckles. “I’ve been pretty busy with work lately, and so I haven’t spent much time with Brutus. Guess I’ll need to take more time out for him and see if it makes a difference. Maybe it’d be a good idea if I take him with me when I make my rounds through the neighborhood tryin’ to return all of the things he’s taken.”

 

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” Star said wistfully. “But Mom and I have moved around so much it just never worked out for me to get one. I may get a dog when I have a place of my own someday though.”

 

“Another reason you don’t want your dog running all over the place, Jan, is to keep him from getting out on the road where he might get hit by a car,” Emma said. “That’s why I asked my son-in-law to fix the gate on the goat pen. Maggie’s a bad one, but I would hate to see anything happen to her.”

 

“That’s right,” Paul interjected. “On my way here this morning, I saw a German shepherd lying dead in the road. Apparently someone hit the poor dog and then fled the scene, because I didn’t see anyone standing around or even a car parked near the shoulder of the road.”

 

“What’d the dog look like?” Jan asked, concern showing clearly on his face.

 

“Traffic was almost at a standstill, and from what I could tell when I passed the animal, it was black and tan.”

 

Jan’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds like my Brutus. Where exactly did you see the dog?”

 

“He was on the main road coming into Shipshewana, near the 5 and 20 Country Kitchen,” Paul replied.

 

“That’s not far from my place!” Jan leaped out of his chair then turned to Emma. “Sorry, but I’ve gotta go.” Leaving his quilt project on the table, he rushed out the door.

 

“That poor man sure looked upset,” Emma said. “I hope his dog is all right.”

 

Ruby Lee nodded. “Some people’s pets are very important to them—almost like children. When my boys were six years old and their cat died, they insisted their dad do a little burial service in our backyard.”

 

“Did he do it?” Star asked.

 

Ruby Lee nodded. “The boys carried on so much that Gene could hardly say no.”

 

“My kids have been after me to get them a dog, but pets are a lot of work, and I’m not sure they’re ready for the responsibility.” Stuart’s stomach growled, and he covered it with his hands, probably hoping to quiet the noise. “Oops … sorry about that. Pam was busy caring for Sherry this morning, and she didn’t have time to fix me anything for breakfast. So I just grabbed a cup of coffee and headed out the door.”

 

“Why didn’t you fix yourself something to eat? You look capable enough to me,” Star said, looking thoroughly disgusted with Stuart.

 

Stuart shrugged. “Never thought about it ‘cause Pam has always made my breakfast.”

 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Maybe you oughta help your wife out once in a while,” Star muttered.

 

“I do plenty of things to help out.”

 

“Uh, let’s take a break, and I’ll bring out a treat. Then we can continue working on the wall hangings after that,” Emma said with a cheerful smile.

 

Ruby Lee was quite sure that Emma felt the tension between Star and Stuart. If she had to guess, she’d say that Star was probably angry with someone who’d treated her mother poorly.

 

“A treat sounds good to me,” Stuart agreed. “Have you got any more of those tasty doughnuts you served us last week?”

 

Emma shook her head. “No, but I do have an angel cream pie I baked yesterday, and there’s a pot of coffee on the stove. I’ll head out to the kitchen to get them right now.”

 

“I’ll go with you.” Star left her seat and followed Emma out of the room, leaving Ruby Lee alone with the men.

 

“Sure hope I get the hang of sewing,” Stuart said, motioning to the little he’d done on his wall hanging. “I feel like I’m all thumbs.” He held up his hands. “Sore thumbs at that, from getting stuck with the pins so many times. No wonder I’ve seen women use those little thimble contraptions to cover their fingers.”

 

“I’ve pricked my finger a few times, too,” Paul said with a chuckle. “Makes me appreciate all the sewing my wife used to do.”

 

Ruby Lee was about to comment when her cell phone rang. It was a number she didn’t recognize, so she was tempted to let the call go into voice mail. But something told her to answer, as it might be important.

 

“Hello,” Ruby Lee said.

 

“Is this Mrs. Williams?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“My name is Joan Hastings. I’m a nurse at the hospital in Goshen, and I’m calling to let you know that your husband’s here in the emergency room.”

 

“Oh, can I speak to him?” Ruby Lee asked, thinking Gene must be with one of their parishioners who’d been hurt or had become ill.

 

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