Lilly's Wedding Quilt (36 page)
“What?”
“You’ve been moping around here for the past two days. I took your advice and got over myself. Now I’ll ask you what
your
problem is … besides the fact that you can’t seem to bring yourself to … cherish your wife with husbandly affection.”
Jacob hung the bridle up and looked at his brother with a growing light in his eyes. “Well, if you really want to know—you could help me.”
Seth backed off, hands up. “Oh no, that’s between you and your
fraa
.”
“Seth,” Jacob said, a bit disgusted, “don’t let your artist’s imagination run away with you. I need your help in a very different way.”
“I wasn’t offering help. I thought you were sad, not plotting. I don’t want any part of this—”
Jacob linked his arm over his
bruder’s
shoulders. “It’ll only take a few minutes of your time.”
L
illy kept her gaze discreet while sitting in the buggy in the cool evening air. By now, though, the group of Amish women who exited the church in Lockport where the depression support groups were held had become familiar to her, and her waiting presence to them. The group served a wide area of about fifteen miles or so and she didn’t recognize anyone from her community. There were about twelve women in all, including her
mamm
, and they often bade each other good night or stood talking in pairs for a few moments when the meeting was done. For Lilly, it was exhilarating to see her
mamm
pause and speak to someone, sharing concerns and laughter before coming to the buggy.
“How was it tonight,
Mamm
?”
Lilly had discovered, to her surprise, that her mother liked to talk about the things she’d learned during the meetings. Lilly had grown to treasure the buggy rides home as a time to feel closer to her
mamm
.
“It was
gut
.” Her voice was quiet.
Lilly glanced at her mother’s profile. “What’s wrong?”
“
Ach
, nothing. The discussion really was good, but one girl brought up the fact that she’d been told that if she only had more faith, then she wouldn’t be depressed.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No, not at all. But it’s still difficult to hear such words.”
“
Mamm
, Dr. Parker said that depression is a very real illness. Can faith help you as you recover? Surely. But to link faith or more faith with not having depression isn’t fair—”
Her mother laughed and patted her arm. “It’s all right, Lilly. I know all that. I felt bad for the woman who’d had someone say that to her; that’s all. I don’t want her to feel shame over false words.”
“Oh.”
“I’m feeling better, Lilly. Really. For the first time in months I feel like there’s a break in the clouds. But I’m not fool enough to think it’s over. I’ll have to be careful and conscious of this illness for all my days.”
Lilly nodded as her throat filled with happy tears. She was so pleased to hear her mother talking seriously, if not matter-of-factly, about her illness. She lifted her eyes to the star-strewn sky and thanked
Derr Herr
once more for using for good what had so recently seemed like such an irreparable time in her mother’s life.
T
hree weeks after their secret plan was put into motion, Seth hustled Jacob upstairs after he’d dropped by his old home for a visit. Lilly had stayed home to do some extra school preparations.
“You’d better sit down.”
Jacob dropped to his brother’s bed and stretched.
“Now what’s the matter?”
Seth tossed a stack of thick envelopes at him, then slid into a chair at the end of the bed, propping up his long legs.
“Letters from ladies for you, dear
bruder
. It seems that your brilliant idea for me to send out requests for quilt squares for your wife and a possible wedding quilting—hosted by us men—got circulated around. And, by the evidence, it has endeared you to the hearts of Amish women everywhere. All those letters have quilt squares and you’re going to have to listen to each note because women will be able to tell whether or not you have read them.”
Jacob picked up a handful of envelopes. “Women? How many? How many requests did you write? Only a handful of people will fit around the frame, right?”
“Besides the fact that this is going to be the oddest quilting party in the area yet—being given by two men—I’d say we’re going to have to have revolving seats for the quilters, because there are a lot of women who want to quilt.” He stretched and scooped up a handful of the letters.
“
Ach
, here we go. One of my favorites—the lyrics to an
Englisch
quilting song, apparently from the late 1800s and dedicated to you by a Miss Lena Christner. I will not sing it, but I’ll recite it later— much later.” He rambled on. “Miss Lena also includes a patchwork square.” Seth waved the fabric. “And, she wishes you the best in life and love and so on.”
Jacob stretched out on the bed and yawned. “Keep going. I’m listening.”
“You’d better be. Now we have a novel quilting technique from our local postmistress, a ‘yo-yo’ square.”
“Like the toy?”
“Yeah, that will fit real comfortably into a bed quilt. No— circles of fabric are gathered into flat pouches and sewn together. See? It’s like a bunch of little colorful circles; I like this one.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ve learned enough about quilting that I feel like I ought to wear a skirt.”
“You’d look good in anything.”
“I’ll ignore that comment.” Seth pulled another square out of an envelope. “I guess this one is called ‘applique.’ You see? This smaller piece of cloth is cut into a shape and sewn onto a larger piece.”
Jacob stared at his
narrish bruder
.
“Then we have the French Knot—”
Jacob laid back on the bed, feeling his eyes drift closed. A moment later, the sudden weight of his brother centered on his chest.
“Get off,” he gasped.
“Nope. Not until you listen.”
“But it’s boring, Seth.”
“It was your idea. Now get up, gather your love letters and quilt squares, and go down and tell
Mamm
what you’ve done. She’s the only one who can sew these all together in time to make the quilt top.”
“The … quilt … top?” Jacob feigned ignorance to bait his brother.
“The quilt top! The thing that fastens to the frame that the ladies quilt on. I’m telling you this is the last time that I will ever—” It was probably Jacob’s hiccup of swallowed laughter that clued Seth in. He gave a tremendous heave and landed his brother on the floor with a loud thump. A shower of envelopes followed.
“Boys!”
Mamm’s
admonishing voice floated upstairs from the kitchen, just like when they’d been
kinner
. “What’s all the racket?”
Jacob sat up and lifted a pretty pink rose square from the litter around him. “This is nice.”
Seth narrowed his eyes. “You mock it now, but remember, this is important to your
fraa
. You can’t make fun of things that are important to her.” He shook his head. “Don’t you know anything about marriage?”
“All right. I’ll go talk to
Mamm
. But clean up the mess, Seth, and stop getting so involved in every little thing I ask you to do.”
He was too fast for the long leg that shot out to trip him and laughed out loud on his way down the stairs.
T
he Saturday of his wife’s wedding quilting dawned bright and clear. Jacob slipped out of the room at 4:00 as usual and rode Thunder as fast as he could to his old home.
Mamm
was already up cooking for the others sitting around the table—Seth, his
daed
, and a grinning Tommy.
The kitchen was filled with the smells of good things. Jacob hung up his coat and hat, then went to give his
mamm
a hug at the stove.
“
Danki
for doing all this … I had no idea how much work was involved.”
His mother looked up from the huge tray of apple dumplings she was sugaring and raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to do it,
sohn
, but to invite droves of women was a bit much.”
Jacob turned to look at Seth, who was now fiddling at the quilt frame with their father and Tommy.
“
Droves
? How many are
droves
?”
“Who are these people?”
Daed
asked.
“Well-wishers, romance lovers, and quilters from as far away as two valleys over. I never put specific names on those letter requests, just handed them to whoever, and somehow or another they just got circulated around. And, I think most women want to come simply to see men try to quilt.” Seth shrugged.
Jacob surveyed the huge frame that took up nearly all of the sitting room. He and Seth had hauled it from the Kings’ largest barn when Sarah’s mother remembered that the bigger frame had been stored there and hadn’t been used in well over fifty years.
The long lengths of wood for holding the layers of the quilt taut so that they could be quilted together, without folds or puckers, had needed a few repairs. But now the full frame held the entire quilt, stretched out for the beginning of the quilting. Then the side rails would be rolled up within the quilt as sections were completed.
“Well, we ought to get it done fast, right? With all those ladies quilting?”
Seth rolled his eyes. “And talking, and eating, and visiting— and we’re supposed to be the hosts! I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“Boys!” Mary Wyse called. “This is for Lilly, for a lifetime of memories. And it’s a
gut
symbol for the beginning of a marriage— you have to work to put things together, to make things work in your minds and hearts. And certainly everyone from here to Elk County will remember this quilting. Now come get the ham out and run down to the cellar for a half-dozen jars of white navy beans. Hurry. The guests start arriving in a few hours and I’m not near done cooking, even with all the dishes the neighbors are bringing.”
Jacob hastened to obey and breathed a quick prayer that all would go smoothly on this special day for his wife.
I
t was a fresh Saturday morning, and Lilly sighed to herself that she was stuck in the classroom for an annual round of teacher training. The topics were really things she’d gone over before or already had teaching strategies for, and she thought she’d much rather be spending time with her husband. But, Jacob did say that he had a lot of things to catch up on. And, to make the day even more dull, Alice was surprisingly absent when she’d promised to come.
At 10:00 a.m. the mentoring teacher gave them a break. As Lilly stood and smoothed out the back of her dress, she had a sudden inspiration. she’d drive home and surprise Jacob with a half-day off, even though he was working. Perhaps she might arrive in time to have lunch with him.
She trotted Ruler, the buggy moving briskly, ignoring what stares she knew she was probably getting for leaving early, but choosing not to mind. She drove on and saw a lone Amish woman walking along the roadside. She would have passed by with a called greeting but when she drew abreast of the woman, she recognized Kate Zook.
She drew the buggy to a halt on some instinct and found herself asking if the girl needed a ride. Since the day of the cleanup at the classroom, she’d heard through the community grapevine that Kate had ceased to see Tommy Granger, even though the
buwe
was close at hand at the Wyse farm. Yet, she also knew that Kate was rather on the outside of the tight-knit community as she had yet to repent of her rebellion and express a desire to join the church.
Kate squinted up at her in the morning sunshine. “Why?” she asked. “Why would you want to give me a ride?” There was something flat and halting in the girl’s tone. Lilly recognized the resignation of her expression and felt a surge of empathy.
“Because you might need one. Come on.”
Kate clambered into the buggy and stared straight ahead.
“So, how are things going?” Lilly asked softly.
“Great.” The girl’s pretty mouth twisted in bitterness. “Just great.”
