The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt (9 page)

Terry nudged Jan again. “Ain’t ya gonna introduce me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice low.

With a disgruntled-looking frown, Jan finally said, “This is my friend and coworker, Terry Cooley.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Terry said, glancing briefly at each of the students, then settling his gaze on the blond.

All heads nodded, but no one offered their names. This wasn’t going quite the way Terry had hoped. He’d made it inside, now he sure couldn’t leave here without finding out if the blond woman was available or not.

“So, ladies,” Terry said smoothly, “what do your husbands think of you taking this class?”

“Actually,” Emma spoke up before any of the women could respond, “none of my students are married this time.”

“I
was
married,” Selma said. “I’ve been widowed for several years.”

Terry knew that already, since Jan had given him the lowdown on his irritating neighbor. But instead of responding, he gave the blond his best smile and hoped she might say something. He was disappointed when she didn’t.

“Jan’s told me a lot about the quilting class he took,” Terry said, pulling his gaze from the blond and glancing back at Emma. “Sounds like he not only learned how to quilt, but had a lot of fun in the process.”

“That’s true, I did,” Jan agreed.

“Well, Emma, if you’ve got room for one more, think I’d like to sign up,” Terry announced.

“We actually have room, don’t we, Emma?” Lamar spoke up, moving closer to the table.

“Yes—yes, we do,” Emma said, looking a bit flustered as her cheeks turned pink.

Lamar grinned. “It’d be nice for Blaine and me if there was another man in the class.”

Terry glanced at the dark-haired guy sitting at the table with his shoulders slumped. He didn’t look too thrilled to be here. Maybe it was because he was the only male student.

“You know,” Terry said, grinning widely. “Since you do have the room, I’d like to take the class. Can I start today?”

“Of course,” Lamar said, pulling out a chair for Terry. “Take a seat and join the others.”

Terry looked over at Jan. “Would you mind coming back for me when the class is done?”

Jan gave a nod, looking at Terry as if he’d lost his mind. “Sure, why not?”

Terry rubbed his hands briskly together. “Great! I can’t wait to get started!”

“Okay, I’ll see ya later then.” Jan gave Terry’s back a solid thump, said good-bye to Emma and Lamar, and left the room, chuckling as he went out the door.

Sure hope I didn’t make a mistake saying I’d do this
, Terry thought as he took a seat at the table and checked out all the quilts in the room. It looked like a lot of detailed work went into them, and he wasn’t sure he was up to the task of making one. Well, now that he knew the cute little blond was single, he couldn’t see any way to ask her out except by taking the quilting class. He might not be interested in getting married, but he was more than eager to go out with someone as good-looking as this little gal. He couldn’t help noticing her creamy complexion, slightly turned-up nose, and the thick, long lashes framing her light brown eyes.

He forced himself to concentrate on what Emma was saying, which wasn’t easy, since he’d taken a seat right beside the blond-haired beauty.

“Now, class,” Emma said, pushing Terry’s thoughts aside, “with the templates I just handed out, I’d like you to begin marking the patterned pieces on the back of your fabric with either the dressmaker’s chalk or a pencil.”

“What do we do after that?” Terry asked, scratching his head. Putting on a new roof seemed like a piece of cake compared to this.

“When you’re done marking, you’ll cut out the pieces of material you’ll be working with.” Emma smiled. “Beginning next week, you’ll start sewing together the pieces you’ve cut.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” the other guy, sitting across from Terry, said.

He looks as out of place here as I feel
, Terry thought.
At least I’m not the only guy here, though. Sure hope this gets better
. He was beginning to question his sanity. The blond might be dating someone already or have no interest in him. Of course Terry’s intention was to win her over, and since he’d never had any trouble getting a date before, he was up to the challenge. He wasn’t sure about the quilt-making, though.

“It is time-consuming to quilt,” Emma said, “but it’s well worth the effort. Nowadays, the patterned pieces are usually pieced by machine instead of by hand.”

“That’s a relief,” the Hispanic woman at the end of the table said, heaving a sigh. “I can’t imagine having to do everything by hand.”

“I’m sure I could do it,” Selma spoke up. “I’ve had a lot of experience mending things by hand.”

Selma was the only one Terry knew by name, although he’d never spoken to her before. Most times when he’d gone over to Jan’s, the nosy old woman was busy outside, pulling weeds, watering the flowers, or picking up things she didn’t think should be in her yard. Terry had noticed that as soon as he pulled into Jan’s yard, Selma would suddenly appear in her yard. She always acted as if she was busy with something but kept glancing their way, like a neighborhood snoop. After hearing some of the stories Jan had shared about Selma, Terry had decided it was best to give her a wide birth.

“Mending’s not the same as quilting, though,” Emma’s husband, Lamar, interjected. “I’m sure everyone will find it much easier to use one of Emma’s sewing machines.”

“I don’t know about that,” the cute little blond said with a shake of her head. “I’ve tried using my mother’s sewing machine several times and have never gotten the hang of it.”

“You look like the type of woman who can do anything she sets her mind to,” Terry said, leaning close to her.

She wrinkled her nose, leaned away, and reached for a piece of chalk Emma had placed in the center of the table.

Terry grimaced, while tactfully straightening in his seat.
Do I have bad breath or something? Stupid me, I shoulda put a breath mint in my mouth before I came in here
.

Turning his head and trying to remain inconspicuous, he cupped his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat. For the life of him, Terry couldn’t remember what he last ate. Taking a quick glance around at everyone, he was glad Emma still had their full attention. So far so good. No one seemed to be looking at him. Hoping to remain unobserved, Terry expelled a little air into the palm of his hand. Cupping his hand over his nose, he inhaled deeply, and quickly lowered his hand before anyone noticed what he’d done.
Naw, don’t think so. My breath smells okay to me. Maybe it’s my body that stinks. I could be pretty ripe from cleaning up those shingles. I’ll never get to first base with this gal if she won’t even talk to me
.

“What will we do after our pieces have been sewn onto the quilt top?” the Hispanic woman asked, giving Terry a sideways glance and raising her eyebrows.

“Then the backing, the batting, and the quilt top will be layered, put into a hoop, and quilted by hand,” Emma replied.

Perspiration beaded on Terry’s forehead and upper lip. He really had bitten off more than he could chew. If he tried sewing anything, he was sure he’d look like a fool.

“When that step is done, the binding will be put on and your wall hangings will be done,” Lamar interjected.

Emma nodded. “You should be able to complete the project in six weeks.”

Six whole weeks?
Terry groaned inwardly. Short of a miracle, it would probably take him a year to make a quilted wall hanging—if he could make one at all.

Cheryl tried to concentrate on what Emma was telling the class, but it was hard to focus when the red-haired fellow sitting beside her kept saying things to her, while checking her out. At least she thought that was why he kept staring at her and taking every opportunity to lean in closer. Between the two men sitting at the table, the scruffy-looking fellow beside her was the least appealing. Not that Cheryl was looking for another man. But if she was, the nice-looking guy across the table seemed to be more her type. Of course he hadn’t said or done anything to make Cheryl think he was interested in her. It was just as well. She didn’t need the complications, and she was here for only one reason—to learn from Emma and see that Grandma’s quilt got repaired.

They all worked silently for a while, cutting out their squares and points for the stars. Then, reaching into his shirt pocket, Terry pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Emma’s mouth dropped open, and Lamar’s bushy gray eyebrows shot straight up.

“Hey, now don’t go lighting up in here. You ought to have more respect for Emma than that.” The clean-cut guy across the table leveled the redheaded man with a look that could have halted a runaway freight train.

Cheryl felt relief. Earlier, when Terry first sat down, she’d noticed a stale cigarette odor on his clothing, and again, on his breath when he’d move in closer to speak to her. With the allergy she had to smoke, the last thing Cheryl needed was someone blowing smoke in her face.

“Sorry. Guess I wasn’t thinking.” Terry rose from his chair. “I’ll go outside for a smoke.”

“Why smoke at all?” Selma asked, wrinkling her nose. “It’s a nasty habit, not to mention bad for your health.”

“Yeah, well, I enjoy smoking. Besides, it’s my health I’ve gotta worry about, not yours,” Terry retorted.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Selma huffed, crossing her arms. “A guy like you doesn’t even belong in this class.”

Neither does a busybody like you
, Cheryl thought, watching as Terry hurried from the room.

Emma knew she’d have to do something soon with this class, or things would get out of control. She remembered back to her first quilting class, when Jan and Stuart had nearly gotten into a fight because of their hostilities. She couldn’t let that happen again.

After Terry returned, Emma remembered that proper introductions hadn’t yet been made. “Why don’t we start at this end of the table and each of you can share something about yourselves—where you live and anything that might help us get to know you better. After all, we will be spending the next six Saturdays together.” She motioned to Carmen. “Would you like to go first?”

Carmen moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “My name is Carmen Lopez, and I live in Los Angeles.” She hesitated a minute, looking a bit anxious. “I’m visiting my brother-in-law, Paul Ramirez, and his little girl, Sophia. I’m taking the quilt class because it seems—uh—interesting.”

Emma nodded. “Paul was part of my first quilting class, and we’ve become good friends. It’s always a joy when he stops by with his little girl.” She touched Carmen’s shoulder. “Is there anything else you would like to share?”

“I think that’s all,” Carmen replied, staring down at the table. She appeared to be a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden.

Emma motioned to Anna. “It’s your turn.”

“There’s not much to tell,” the young woman mumbled. “My name’s Anna Lambright, and I live in Middlebury. I came to the quilt class because my mom signed me up, but I really don’t want to be here.”

Emma was stunned. She hadn’t expected Anna to be so blunt.

“Blaine, why don’t you go next?” Lamar suggested, as though sensing Emma’s discomfort.

“My name’s Blaine Vickers. I work at a sporting goods store in Mishawaka.” A patch of pink erupted on Blaine’s cheeks. “I’m here because I made a bet with my friend, Stuart, about who could catch the biggest fish. I lost, so now I have to learn how to quilt.”

There were a few murmurs from the ladies, and a snicker from Terry, but before anyone could say anything, Emma moved on. “Selma, you’re next.”

“My name is Selma Nash, and I live here in Shipshewana. I’m here because my neighbor, Jan Sweet, paid for me to take the class. I thought I’d better take advantage of it, because I doubt something like that will ever happen again.”

Emma glanced at Lamar, to get his reaction, and he gave her a quick wink. They’d both gotten to know Jan rather well since he’d taken the quilt classes, and they knew that despite his rough exterior, he was a kind, generous man.

Emma then asked Cheryl to introduce herself.