The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club (22 page)

BOOK: The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club
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Feeling the need for a little time to herself, Pam went to the living room, grabbed a book she’d been wanting to read, and curled up on the couch. Stuart and Devin were in the yard playing catch, so the house was peaceful and quiet.

 

Pam had only been reading a few minutes when Stuart entered the room and bent to nuzzle her cheek.

 

“Stop it. I’m busy right now,” she mumbled.

 

“Doesn’t look like you’re busy to me. Looks like you’ve got your nose in a book.”

 

“That’s right, and it’s the first minute I’ve really had to myself since Sherry got sick on Friday, so if you don’t mind—”

 

Stuart flopped onto the other end of the couch. “How’s our little gal doing?” he asked, lifting one of Pam’s feet and starting to rub it.

 

“Better. She kept the oatmeal down that I gave her earlier.”

 

“That’s good to hear. Unless she has a relapse, you should be able to go to the quilt class this Saturday.”

 

“Yes, but I wish you were going with me.”

 

“I’m considering it.”

 

Her eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

 

He gave a nod. “I felt more relaxed there yesterday than I did the week before.”

 

“How come?”

 

He cleared his throat a couple of times. “Well, it was nice to have the chance to just be myself.”

 

“What are you saying—that you couldn’t be yourself when I was there?”

 

“Yep, that’s pretty much the way it was.”

 

Pam clenched her fingers tightly around the book, irritated with his answer. “Why can’t you be yourself when I’m there?”

 

“Because I’m not comfortable with you telling everyone our problems and trying to make it look like I’m responsible for everything that’s gone wrong in our marriage.”

 

“I don’t do that.”

 

“Yes you do, and it makes me feel awkward and stupid.”

 

“Fine then, I won’t say a word about anything at the next quilt class. Will that make you happy?”

 

“Yeah, sure … like that’s ever gonna happen.” He picked up her other foot and began rubbing it, probably hoping it might soothe her tension, as it had when he’d rubbed her feet many times before.

 

Pam’s irritation mounted, barely appreciating the foot massage, which at any other time would have been so relaxing that she’d have fallen asleep. “I could keep quiet throughout the whole class if I wanted to.”

 

“Great. I’ll go with you next week, and then we’ll see.”

 

She set the book aside and gave a nod. “It’s a deal!”

 

Stuart pushed her feet aside and stood. “Now that I’ll have to see in order to believe.”

 

Pam wrinkled her nose and caught herself just in time before sticking out her tongue.

 

After Stuart left the room, she bolted upright. “Oh, great. What did I agree to now? Can I really keep quiet throughout the whole class?”

 
C
HAPTER
20
Shipshewana
 

O
n Monday morning, Emma still wasn’t feeling well, but she forced herself to get out of bed, fix breakfast, and do a few chores. She really needed to get some laundry done, but she wasn’t sure she had the energy for it.

 

Emma stepped into her sewing room, took a seat in the rocking chair, and leaned her head back, feeling ever so drowsy. It had been a long time since she’d felt so fatigued. She was almost at the point of dozing off when she heard the back door open. A few seconds later, Mary entered the room. “I came over to see how you’re doing,” she said.

 

Emma sighed. “Not as well as I’d like to be. I’m still awfully tired, and I haven’t even washed my clothes yet.”

 

“I’ll do it, Mom.”

 

Emma shook her head. “You have enough of your own work to do.”

 

“My laundry is already out on the line, and I really don’t mind helping you.”

 

“Oh, all right. You can wash the clothes, but I’m going to help you hang them on the line.” Emma didn’t know why it was so hard for her to accept Mary’s help. She never thought twice about helping others, yet when it came to being on the receiving end, she usually wanted to do things on her own. Even so, she appreciated her daughter. In fact, all her children would make any parent feel grateful. No matter how busy they were, they never hesitated to drop what they were doing if help was needed elsewhere. Emma just didn’t want to become a burden.

 

Mary smiled. “If you’re feeling up to helping, that’s fine with me.”

 

Emma followed Mary to the basement and took a seat on a folding chair while Mary filled the gas-powered wringer-washer with water.

 

“It was nice of Lamar to stop by and check on you yesterday,” Mary said as she put some towels into the washer. “When I spoke to him after church, he seemed concerned about you not being there.”

 

Emma rubbed a spot on the front of her dress where some tea must have dripped.

 

“Lamar seems to be a very nice man,” Mary continued. “I also think he’s lonely.”

 

Emma folded her hands and began to twiddle her thumbs. She didn’t care for the way this conversation was going. “If he’s lonely, then he needs to find something to occupy his time. Keeping busy has helped me not to be so lonely since your daed died.”

 

“From what I can tell, Lamar keeps plenty busy with the hickory rocking chairs he makes. Besides, staying busy is no guarantee that a person won’t be lonely.”

 

“I suppose you’re right.” Despite Emma’s activities in her yard and with her quilting projects, she still felt lonely at times—especially in the evenings, which was when she and Ivan used to sit out on the porch or in the living room to relax and visit after a long day. Oh, how she missed those special times.

 

“I think Lamar would probably like to find another wife,” Mary said.

 

Emma clenched her fingers into a tight ball. “Jah, well, that’s fine. It’s just not going to be me.”

 

 

Star had just gotten off work, and instead of going straight home, she decided to drive over to Shipshewana to see Emma. She wanted to talk to her more about Mom’s new man friend—tell her what happened yesterday when Mike came over. She was still upset and needed someone to share her feelings with, and it sure couldn’t be Mom. Had Mom taken Star’s side yesterday when Mike jumped her about wearing dark-colored clothes and too much eye makeup? No! Had Mom told Mike to get his shoes off the couch when he’d sprawled out to watch TV for the day? Of course not! Mom pretty much let Mike do whatever he wanted, even though they weren’t married.

 

“And I hope they never are,” Star mumbled as she started her car’s engine.

 

As she pulled out from Walmart, she began to sing the lyrics to one of the songs she’d been working on. “Never gonna be the princess, holding tight to Daddy’s neck; never gonna be the apple of his eye. Never gonna walk the aisle hand in hand; a sweet vignette. Never gonna answer all the whys.”

 

Tears pricked the back of Star’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over. No point giving in to self-pity, because it wouldn’t change a thing. If Mom ended up marrying Mike, there wasn’t anything Star could do about it. She just needed to take one day at a time and try to focus on other things. Maybe someday one of her songs would be discovered and she’d become a real star; then she wouldn’t need anyone—not even Mom.

 

Star continued to sing as she drove toward Shipshewana. When she pulled into Emma’s yard sometime later, she saw Emma and a younger woman hanging clothes on the line.

 

Seeing that Emma wasn’t alone, Star was hesitant about getting out of the car. But when Emma looked her way and waved, she knew she couldn’t turn around and leave. That would be rude. So Star turned off her car’s engine, stepped out, and headed across the yard.

 

When she reached the clothesline, Emma smiled and said, “What a nice surprise. What brings you by here this Monday morning?”

 

Feeling suddenly shy and more than a bit uncomfortable due to the other woman’s curious expression, Star dropped her gaze to the ground and mumbled, “Just got off work.”

 

“I didn’t realize you worked in Shipshewana,” Emma said.

 

“I don’t. I work at the Walmart in Goshen.” Star dragged the toe of her sneaker along a clump of grass. “Thought maybe it would be a good time to visit with you awhile, but I can see that you’re busy right now.”

 

“I’m not too busy to talk.” Emma placed her hand on Star’s arm. “Besides, you just drove probably half an hour to get here, and I surely can’t send you away.”

 

Emma’s gentle touch felt warm and comforting. It made Star think of Grandma again, but she wasn’t sure how to respond. She really did need to talk to Emma but didn’t want to do it in front of the other woman.

 

“Oh, silly me,” Emma said. “I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter. Star, this is Mary. She lives next door and came over to help me with the laundry.”

 

“We did meet briefly on the first day of your quilting class, but we weren’t introduced.” Mary held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Star.”

 

Star, feeling a little more relaxed, shook Mary’s hand. “Yeah, I remember now. Nice to meet you, too.”

 

“What kind of work do you do at Walmart?” Emma asked as she hung one of her plain blue dresses on the line.

 

“I stock shelves in the wee hours of the morning.”

 

“That must be nice in some ways,” Mary said, “because it gives you the rest of the day to do other things.”

 

“Yeah.” Star bent down and picked up a wet towel from the wicker basket. “This looks like fun. Think I’ll help, if you don’t mind.”

 

Emma laughed. “We don’t mind at all, but I’m surprised you would think hanging out the laundry is fun.”

 

“Well, fun might not be the best word for it,” Star said, “but it’s different. With the exception of the time we’ve spent living in my grandma’s house, Mom and I have always washed and dried our clothes at the Laundromat.” Star pointed to a sheet flapping in the breeze. “Do you hang things out when the weather is nice and then use the dryer when it’s raining or snowing?”

 

Emma shook her head. “Oh no. We don’t have automatic clothes dryers, but if we did, I’d really miss the fresh scent that clings to the sheets. For me, it’s almost like sleeping in the outdoors when I cover up at night and smell the earth’s sweet fragrance on my bedding.”

 

“Oh that’s right. I forgot you don’t use electricity in your homes. So what do you do about washing your clothes? Do you have to wash ‘em in a big round tub with a washboard?”

 

“Some of the washing machines we use in this community are run with a generator, but Mom’s machine is run by a gas-powered motor that’s set up outside, and the drive shaft is run into the washing area,” Mary explained.

 

“Oh, I see.” Star couldn’t imagine living without the benefit of electricity and doing without all the modern conveniences. She did remember, though, how good the sheets smelled when she’d stayed at Grandma’s house a few times before Grandma had become so ill.

 

That must be what Emma meant about the fresh earthy scent. Grandma probably hung her clothes out to dry sometimes. Funny how I’d forgotten that little memory of Grandma’s sheets until Emma spoke of it
.

 

They visited about other things until all the clothes were hung, and then Mary said she needed to do some things at her home, so she bid them good-bye.

 

“Would you like to take a seat on the porch?” Emma asked. “All that bending and stretching left me feeling rather worn out.”

 

Star nodded. “Then I guess we should both have a seat, because I’m kinda tired, too.”

 

As they walked to the porch, Star couldn’t help but notice Emma’s slow-moving gait. “Are you feeling all right today?” she asked, reaching out to steady Emma as they took seats on the porch swing.

 

“I’ve been feeling rather drained for the last few days. Just don’t quite feel like myself.” Emma smiled, although the usual sparkle in her blue eyes wasn’t there. “I stayed home from church yesterday to rest, but I guess it didn’t help because I don’t have much energy this morning either.”

 

“Maybe I oughta go so you can take a nap.” Star started to rise, but Emma shook her head and motioned for her to sit back down.

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