The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt (23 page)

“Aim at the pins,” Blaine said.

Terry shook his head. “I use the marks on the floor mostly.”

Cheryl lifted her hands. “That wasn’t much help. Guess I’ll figure it out for myself. Either way, or doing both, might make it easier.”

Boy, she sure is pretty—especially when she smiles
, Terry thought.
Sure wish she was my date tonight
.

It was Blaine’s turn to bowl, and Cheryl sat beside Terry. As Blaine stepped up to the line, Terry looked over at Cheryl and said, “Look at me over here by myself. I feel like the Lone Ranger.”

“Not anymore.” Cheryl gestured toward the entrance of the bowling alley. “It looks like your friend Jan just arrived.”

Terry swiveled in his seat. Sure enough, Jan was heading his way, and Star was right behind him. When they joined him a short time later, he introduced Star to Cheryl. “And you’ve already met my boss and good friend, Jan Sweet,” Terry added.

Cheryl smiled at Star. “It’s nice to meet you.” The young woman’s hair was straight and black, and she sported a small nose ring. Cheryl also noticed a little star tattooed on the young woman’s neck, but she wore a radiant smile and seemed quite bubbly.

“Same here,” Star said, shaking Cheryl’s hand. “Terry’s told us all about you.”

“It was all good, honest,” Terry said, his face turning slightly pink.

It was unexpected to see him blush like that. Cheryl was also surprised to hear that he’d been talking about her. Well, maybe it wasn’t just her he’d mentioned to Jan and Star. Terry might have talked about everyone in the class.

“Are we going to bowl, or stand around talking all night?” Blaine asked impatiently. He motioned to Cheryl’s ball. “It’s your turn now.”

“No, it’s not,” Terry spoke up. “You were about to bowl when Jan and Star showed up.”

Blaine’s face flamed as he glanced down at the ball in his hands. “Guess you’re right.”

Cheryl could see how embarrassed Blaine was, so she made light of it. “It’s no big deal. I do things like that all the time. The other day at work I went to the copy machine, and after I copied the document I’d taken there, I got distracted when someone asked me a question. Then when I went back to my desk I realized I didn’t have the copy I thought I’d made. So back to the copy machine I went, where I discovered that the original, as well as the copy, were still in the machine.”

Terry chuckled. “Once, when I was climbing a ladder to get on a roof, I stopped halfway up and couldn’t remember what I was going up there for. So I told myself, ‘I’m gonna stand right here on this rung till I remember.’ ” Terry tapped his forehead a couple of times. “I never did figure it out, but after some thought, I couldn’t remember if I was going up or down that ladder.”

Cheryl laughed. “You made that up, didn’t you?”

He winked.

“I think we’d better get back to bowling.” Blaine stepped up to the line, made his approach, and let the ball go. He knocked down eight pins, and the two left standing were side by side. “I should be able to get those easily,” he said, glancing back at Cheryl.

“I bet you can.” She cheered Blaine on.

In the meantime, Terry picked up his ball and stepped up to the line just as Blaine did. They both started their approach and released their balls at the same time.

“That’s not good,” Star said, glancing at Cheryl and shaking her head. “One of them should have waited for the other to go first. I don’t think either of ’em knows anything about bowling courtesy.”

Cheryl held her breath as she watched both men’s balls roll down the alley toward the pins. Terry’s ball, which had been released with a stronger hand, made it there first, knocking down nine pins. Blaine’s ball hit his last two pins, and he turned to face Cheryl with a grin.

“Good job,” she said, picking up her ball and waiting until Terry finished his turn. He missed the one pin that had been left standing, but instead of getting upset about it, he winked at Cheryl and said, “That was just my practice shot. ’Course practice makes perfect, and nobody’s perfect, so really, why practice?”

Cheryl couldn’t help but smile. Terry had such a humorous way about him. He was actually kind of a likable guy. Too bad he and Blaine seemed to be at odds with each other. They’d both been acting really testy tonight. “Guess it’s my turn to bowl,” she said.

The first ball she rolled, knocked down four pins, but on her second try she got three more. After Star took her turn and got a spare, Jan bowled, knocking down all of the pins. Everyone cheered.

Terry and Blaine both jumped up next, grabbed their balls, and lined up, neither of them waiting for the other to go first. Terry glanced briefly at Blaine, then let go of his ball. As it started rolling down the aisle, he shouted, “Come on, baby….Come on….Knock down those pins for me right now!”

Meanwhile, the ball Blaine released glided down the alley, with him coaxing it along. “That’s it! That’s it! Just a little more to the left.”

Terry’s ball hit eight pins this time, and Blaine knocked down seven.

“It’s time for a spare,” Blaine said, looking back at Cheryl.

Terry grabbed his ball and dashed up to the line. Blaine did the same. Once more, they released their balls at the same time.

Thunk!
Both men’s balls rolled into the gutter without hitting a single pin.

“Rats!” Terry slapped the side of his jeans, and Blaine slunk his way back to his chair.

Cheryl looked at Star and rolled her eyes.

“Men,” Star whispered, leaning close to Cheryl. “They always have to show off, and if they don’t win, they think it’s the end of the world.”

Cheryl nodded. To her, bowling, or any other sport, was about having fun. It was obvious that Terry and Blaine took the game more seriously, though.

Star and Cheryl took their turns next, and then Jan. Cheryl watched in fascination as the big burly man bowled one strike, followed by another. Star cheered and so did Terry. But Blaine just sat with his arms folded.

When Star took her next turn, she bowled a strike. Cheryl cheered for her, thinking,
Maybe I should have had her show me a few things about bowling
.

Cheryl went to her purse and dug out a few dollars. “Blaine, would you mind getting me a chocolate milk shake? If they taste anything like the ones back in my hometown, then I can hardly wait to have one. Get yourself something, too,” she added, handing him the money. “It’s my treat.”

“I should be treating you, not the other way around,” Blaine said.

“Don’t worry about it. You paid for our bowling, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Okay. I’ll be back soon with a couple of chocolate shakes.” Casting Terry a quick glance, Blaine hurried away.

For the next two hours they continued to bowl, until Cheryl told Blaine she needed to go. “I plan to attend the early service at church tomorrow morning, so I need to go home and get to bed,” she explained.

“Where’s your church and what time does it start?” Blaine asked.

Thinking he might want to come, too, she smiled and said, “It starts at 8:45, and the church is here in Goshen. Gene Williams is the pastor, and his wife, Ruby Lee, took one of Emma’s quilting classes.”

“Oh, I see. Well, if you need to get home, I’ll walk you to the car,” Blaine said, making no comment about the church or asking for directions.

Disappointed, Cheryl smiled at Star. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Same here.” Star grinned. “Maybe the two of us can get together and bowl sometime,” she whispered. “Without the men.”

Cheryl gave a nod. “Sounds like that could be fun.” She said good-bye to Jan and told Terry she would see him next Saturday at Emma’s. “Oh, and I’m glad you’ve quit smoking. Keep up the good work,” she quickly added.

“I will,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Think it’ll be worth it.”

As Cheryl and Blaine walked toward the door, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Terry watching her. She couldn’t explain it, but something about him was appealing, which was strange, since she hadn’t felt that way when they’d first met. While Blaine was nice looking, polite, and seemed to be steady, Terry was funny and had a zest for life. He was different from any man she’d ever known.

When Cheryl stepped into the chilly evening air, a shiver ran through her.
Do I actually wish I’d gone bowling with Terry tonight instead of Blaine? No, that’s ridiculous; Terry and I are worlds apart
.

C
HAPTER
20

Shipshewana

S
elma pulled the covers aside and shivered as she crawled out of bed. It seemed so cold in her bedroom this morning. Could the temperature have dipped lower than usual during the night? Maybe her furnace had quit working.

Wherever Selma could, she stepped on the throw rugs scattered across her bedroom floor, knowing the hardwood would probably be cold. It was the only room in her house, besides the kitchen and bathroom, that didn’t have carpeting.

Selma padded across the room in her bare feet and bent down to put her hand in front of the floor vent.
Now that’s odd
. Even though the slats were open, no heat was rising through the vent. She slipped into her robe and slippers, then stepped into the hall. It seemed warm enough there, and in the living room as well. She checked both living-room vents and discovered warm air drifting up. It made no sense that the vent in the bedroom wasn’t directing heat into the room.

Selma checked a couple more vents—one in the spare bedroom, and one in the dining room. Warm air wafted up from both of them. She felt relief knowing her furnace hadn’t given out.

“Guess I’ll have to ask someone to crawl under the house and check the heat duct going up to my bedroom,” she said aloud. “Maybe it got clogged somehow.”

Selma headed for the kitchen to put the teakettle on the stove, and when she stepped into the room, she halted, shocked at the sight before her. That mangy gray cat was sitting in her sink, licking at the slow drip coming from the faucet.

“How in the world did you get in my house, and what are you doing in the sink?” Could she have left the door open last night during the short time she’d gone out to be sure her car was locked? But if the cat had gotten in then, why hadn’t she seen it before she’d gone to bed? Maybe the sneaky feline had hidden out somewhere in the house. Whatever the case, Scruffy had to go out!

Meow!
The cat looked at Selma as if to say, “Please let me stay in the house.”

“I’ll give you a bowl of water, but you have to go outside.” Selma picked up the cat, unconsciously petting his head.

Prrr…Prrr…
The cat burrowed his nose in Selma’s robe and began to knead with his paws.

“Now, none of that, Scruffy,” Selma said with a click of her tongue. “You’re not going to soft-soap me this morning.” She held the cat away from her, while scrutinizing him.
If you could talk, you’d probably tell me plenty
, Selma thought, wondering where this cat must have come from.

She opened the back door, set the cat on the porch, and quickly shut the door. When she returned to the kitchen, she took out a plastic bowl and filled it with lukewarm water. Then she took the bowl outside and placed it on the porch. Seeing that Scruffy was still there, Selma smiled, despite her agitation. If all the mats were combed out of the critter’s fur, he wouldn’t look half bad. In fact, he was kind of cute, even if he was nearly full grown.