The Trouble with Scotland (24 page)

Thrown off balance by such unprecedented friendliness, Sadie answered cautiously. “I'm fine.” She looked around for Oliver, but he wasn't there. She guessed it was up to her to talk to Deydie about extending their visit. “I was wondering how you would feel if we stayed in Gandiegow a while longer. My brother and myself.” Sadie decided it was best to make it sound as if it was her idea; Oliver might not want the whole world to know that he was trying to figure out what was going on between him and Kirsty. “Would it be okay if I stayed at the quilting dorm for another week?”

Deydie clapped her hands excitedly, then latched on to her arm, looking relieved. “Of course, 'tis fine. I'm so happy ye're going to stay.” She turned to the room. “Sadie and Oliver are going to be with us a mite longer.” Everyone there smiled at Sadie.

Sadie was baffled at how Deydie's attitude toward her had changed. Even more puzzling: She had warmed to the old woman as well.

Deydie pulled her over to her sewing machine. “Now, come sit and work on yere quilt while I get some of the wedding things done.”

I could get used to this feeling of belonging
, Sadie thought. Everyone but Deydie had made her feel so welcome in Gandiegow, and now Deydie had joined in as well. It was wonderful to be wanted.

Sadie settled in behind the machine. As she worked on the next quilt block, the Old Maid's Puzzle, her mind wandered back to Ross and her heart beat double time. She didn't buy his measles story; he was definitely up to something. But she was willing to drop her questions and let it play out.

When the quilt block was done, she held it up. “Damn.” She'd stitched one of the pieces wrong. She dug in her sewing bag and found a seam ripper. The mistake was with an interior piece, too, so nearly the whole block would have to be taken apart and redone.

If only she could undo the mess she'd made of her life as easily, undo what she'd done with Ross. The Old Maid's Puzzle block suddenly seemed fitting.

As she attacked the first seam, Bethia wandered over and took the chair beside her. She pulled out a white handkerchief and blue embroidery floss.

“It's for Father Andrew, for the wedding. I'm putting his initials on it.”

Sadie nodded, but her mind was on ripping out the seam. “Ugh, this seam isn't cooperating.” There was a knot that didn't want to get undone. The more Sadie dug into it, the more she feared she might make a hole.

Bethia began hand-stitching. “You might be able to put things to rights by ripping out a seam, but I say, sometimes it's best to leave a block as it is. Part of a magnificent patchwork, and a way to look back on the messes we've made and think how in the end, it all turned out fine. Lovely, in fact.”

Sadie stopped what she was doing and looked at Bethia, pretty sure she wasn't talking about quilting.

Bethia laid a fragile hand on Sadie's. “Don't ye think it's best to let things lie as they may and move on?”

Sadie nodded in agreement and put the seam ripper down.

Kirsty clapped her hands at the front of the room, getting their attention. “It's time to put our sewing away and turn Quilting Central into wedding shower central. Moira will be here within the hour.”

For the first time, Sadie noticed a table was already dressed in white tulle and piled with gift boxes wrapped in white paper. She would've had a present for Moira, but she never imagined she would still be here.

Deydie nudged her. “Don't worry, lass. We saved something special for you to give to Moira—the last bit of sewing on her wedding dress. Tradition says the dress shouldn't be finished until the last moment. We left two small tasks for the end. It's extra special to be the one who sews in the strand of hair.”

“Hair? Really?” Sadie asked.

“For luck, of course. As yere present for Moira, ye can sew the hair into an inner seam and finish the last few inches of the hem.”

Working on the dress had been a community effort, and Sadie felt honored to be included. She also liked the idea of doing something for her new friend, Moira.

“Would ye like to help with the tablecloths or setting out the food?” It seemed strange that Deydie asked instead of ordering her; maybe the old woman was really starting to like Sadie.

The next hour rushed by with a flurry of activity, making everything perfect for Moira's arrival.

She showed up in a white dress, cut the same way as the plum-colored dress that had to be her favorite. Her brown hair was pulled back in a clip, and she seemed embarrassed to be the center of attention.

“Sit here, lass,” Bethia said, guiding her to a small table. “We're going to begin this celebration with the Passing of the Recipes.”

Deydie, who had taken the seat next to Sadie, dug in her dress pocket and produced two index cards. “I printed up one for ye to give Moira when I found out ye were staying. Later, it would be grand if ye wrote out yere own favorite recipe.”

“Thank you,” Sadie whispered.

“I figured ye wouldn't have time. Now, shhh.”

“Let's start at this side of the room, and one at a time, bring yere recipe up to Moira for her box.” Bethia pulled out a beautiful dark wood box adorned with a Celtic knot on the front face and a tartan bow on the top. She set it on the table beside Moira.

“It's the MacBride tartan. Father Andrew's clan,” Deydie explained.

One at a time, each Gandiegow woman rose solemnly, announced what recipe she was gifting the bride and why it was a favorite, and then presented it to Moira. As if it was a dance, Moira nodded each time, said
thank you
, and stowed the recipe in the gorgeous box.

“What a lovely custom,” Sadie whispered to Deydie.

“Aye,” Deydie whispered back. “We're blessing Moira's table with our favorite recipes to nourish their marriage.”

Deydie's recipe was for her mini cherry cheesecakes. Sadie followed with her index card, titled Deydie's Chicken Stew.

Next it was time to play a game:
What's in Moira's Sewing Basket?
Each attendee wrote down what she imagined was hidden away there. Maggie helped Glenna write down her answers, and in the end, the child won a stack of fabric fat quarters.

When Bethia moved to the table with the presents, Deydie tapped Sadie on the shoulder. “Get a needle and thread. I'll get the wedding dress so you can finish it and gift it to Moira.”

Sadie went to her sewing bag, keeping her eye on the front so as not to miss a thing.

Bethia pulled the first wrapped box from the top of the pile and handed it to Moira. As she opened it, Bethia explained, “I made ye an herbal first aid kit.”

Moira beamed up at her and then took out a couple of the vials, reading the contents. “Thank ye.”

Maggie's gift was next. “It's a centerpiece for yere table,” she said of the pretty vase filled with pebbles at the bottom, some shells in the middle, and a candle on the top. “To light yere way.”

Deydie returned, laying the white gown across Sadie's lap, and then handed her a small Ziploc bag. “A strand of hair from Moira's mama, Pixie.”

Sadie was confused. “I thought her mother was gone.”

Deydie frowned at her as if she was daft. “She put it away in Moira's hope chest for this very day. Now stitch it into the seam to bring Moira good luck in her marriage.”

Amy presented Moira with a quilted travel tote bag stocked with essentials. “For yere honeymoon,” she said gaily.

Moira looked at her quizzically. “But we're not having one.”

Cait got up and held out a folder to Moira. “Graham and I gift you with one.”

Moira gave a little gasp before slowly reaching out to take it.

“Tell us where ye're off to!” Rowena called out.

Moira opened the packet and gazed at the itinerary inside. “Five days in Italy . . . Oh, my!” She looked up again, worried this time, her eyes darting to Glenna for a second.

Amy laughed, placing a hand on Glenna's shoulder. “Glenna is going to stay with us and help me with baby Wills. Aren't ye, Glenna?”

“Aye,” the young girl said, beaming up at Amy.

Soon all the wrapped presents had been opened, from sundresses for their trip to practical items for their new home. Sadie had finished the last few inches of the seam and was waiting for Deydie to tell her when to present her gift to Moira.

But Deydie went over to her desk, where she sometimes sat with her notebook, and pulled a box out from under it. She lumbered over to Moira and put it in her lap. “Open it.”

Moira took off the lid, pushed back the tissue paper and pulled out a quilt. This was a Sampler quilt, too, but made entirely of different kinds of Celtic knots. “Oh.”

“We thought ye and Andrew would like it. We all had a hand in it over the last few months, even Glenna,” Amy said. “Show Moira which block we did together.”

Glenna hopped up and pointed it out as the room smiled, and Moira gave her a big hug. “'Tis the most beautiful quilt I've ever seen. Truly.”

“All right.” Deydie took the quilt from Moira; Bethia grabbed the other end. “Ye won't see this again until the ceremony.”

Sadie wondered if that was another Gandiegow tradition. She'd have to remember to ask Deydie later.

Deydie stowed the quilt back in the box and said, “Now listen closely, Moira. I have some last minute instructions for ye. Tomorrow, when ye leave yere house for the last time as a single woman, don't forget to step out with yere right foot. Do ye ken?” As Moira nodded, Deydie dug in her pocket for a coin, which she held out to Moira. “Put this sixpence in yere bridal shoe.”

Moira didn't take the proffered coin. “Thank ye, but I have Mama's sixpence from her own wedding day, along with her handkerchief.”

“Aww, that's lovely,” Bethia said.

“Aye. Rightly so. It should be passed from mother to daughter. That'll be yere
something old
then,” Deydie said nodding her head.

Amy piped in. “I gave her a new pair of earrings to wear for the wedding. Her
something new
.”

Cait came forward, unclasping the necklace from her neck. “I would be honored if you'd wear this tomorrow. The wise women say the
something borrowed
should come from a happily married couple, and I'm exceedingly happy with my Graham.”

Sadie chuckled to herself,
What woman wouldn't be?

When Moira nodded solemnly Cait clasped the necklace around her neck.

“And now for something blue . . .” Deydie said.

Claire sauntered forward with a flat square box in the
palm of her hand. “I might've picked up something for ye and Andrew while I was shopping at the Slip of the Tongue.”

The women tittered. Was Claire giving Moira lingerie? Surely not, especially in public.

Cautiously, Moira took it and gingerly lifted the lid. Then she tilted the box for them all to see. Inside was a perfectly respectable garter, but the bride blushed anyway.

Claire hugged her. “Blue symbolizes the steadfast love that ye and Andrew feel for each other.”

Deydie came forward again and cleared her throat. Sadie thought she might even be a little choked up. “'Tis a shame your parents aren't here to see you married,” Deydie began, “but all of us here love you, Moira. And how nice that your uncle George will be there in your da's place.”

Moira smiled bravely. “Aye.”

Amy came to stand next to her. “And I'll be beside ye as yere matron of honor.”

Moira glanced up, looking grateful to have her best friend by her side.

Glenna ran over and leaned against Moira. “And you have me as the flower girl.”

Moira wrapped an arm around her waist. “Ye'll walk with me up the aisle?”

The girl hugged her. “Aye.”

Deydie smiled at them all. “Before we wind this up, there's just one more thing. Claire, tell Dominic to keep that pig of his penned up tomorrow. It's bad luck for a pig to cross the path of the bride.”

Claire laughed. “I will. But Porco was hoping to catch
a glimpse of Moira in that beautiful wedding dress that Sadie's just finished.”

Sadie had completely forgotten that she was holding it across her lap, so enthralled was she with Gandiegow's traditions. She stood and held it up. “It
is
gorgeous.” She walked it over to Moira.

“Thank you for finishing it for me.” Moira glanced around the room. “Thank you all.”

The women converged on Moira with chatter, laughter, and hugs. Sadie was nearly overwhelmed by the love in the room. Her whole life, she'd believed that big weddings were a waste of money, stressed everyone out, and only complicated things. But here in Gandiegow, it seemed like pure joy. What a beautiful gift they'd given Moira today. And for Sadie to witness it, and be part of it, was a gift to her as well.

The room was cleaned up in a whirl of activity, during which three more people hit Sadie up to add their loved ones to her
read-to
list. She jotted down the information, and when the crowd had left, sat down in her little library area to make notes on what books they might like.

Tonight, she would make up a schedule for the week: when she would read to others, when she would quilt—and when she'd have a chance to read a book for herself. But thinking about the evening ahead made her shiver. Ross would be at the quilting dorm. Big, handsome Ross, who seemed to take up all the space in the bungalow . . . and all the air. A severe case of the butterflies attacked her stomach and spread out to the far reaches of her nervous system.

Deydie lumbered over and plopped down on the library's sofa. “I'm beat. It's a good thing we don't have
a wedding every month here in Gandiegow. I'm not sure me old bones could take it.” The old woman glanced up. “What are ye doing for tea this evening? Would ye like to come back and eat with me at my cottage? I've leftover stew.”