The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club (11 page)

For the next hour, Emma worked on the quilt. As she sewed, she thought about her upcoming quilt class. She hoped it would go better than last week’s had, and that everyone would take an active interest in the things she planned to teach. Last Saturday, when Stuart had fallen asleep, she’d been worried that he might be bored or hadn’t understood what she’d been trying to explain. Even though Emma knew a lot about quilting, she wasn’t sure she’d presented the information clearly or interestingly enough. She would make sure to go a little slower this week and not let her nerves take over. And hopefully there would be no interruptions, like Maggie getting out of her pen, or Stuart and Jan exchanging heated words and nearly getting into a fight. Emma had found that most unsettling.

Emma’s thoughts came to a halt when she heard the wail of a siren, which seemed to be drawing closer all the time. When she saw red lights flashing through the window and realized they were coming up the driveway that separated her home from Mary’s, she became very concerned.

She sniffed the air. Is that smoke I smell?

Hurrying to the window, Emma gasped as two fire trucks pulled in. Moving to the side window, she noticed smoke and flames coming from the shed where her son-in-law kept their wood and gardening tools. The shed wasn’t far from the barn, and Emma feared that if they didn’t get the fire out soon, the barn might also catch on fire.

With a quick yet fervent prayer for everyone’s safety, Emma rushed out the back door as the sound of crackling wood reached her ears.

S
tar had just sat down at the kitchen table to cut out her pattern pieces when Mom entered the room.

“I just looked over the movie schedule,” Mom said, holding the newspaper out to Star. “That new romantic comedy we’ve seen advertised on TV is playing at Linway Cinema 14. Would you like to go?”

Star shook her head. “No, I’m good. I’m just gonna hang out here tonight.”

“Doing what?”

“I’ll be busy cutting out the pattern pieces that will make up my wall hanging. Gotta have this first part done before Saturday.” She pointed to the black-and-gold material she’d chosen.

Mom’s eyebrows drew together as she frowned. “I still think it’s a dumb idea for you to waste your time on that quilt class.”

Star gritted her teeth. Not this again. So much for trying to impress Mom with something I’m doing
. “Grandma wanted me to go, or she wouldn’t have reserved a spot for me.”

Mom looked at Star like she still didn’t get it.

“I miss Grandma, and taking the class so I can learn how to quilt makes me feel closer to her,” Star said.

“You can miss her all you want, but I’m the only parent you have, and you ought to appreciate me and be willing to spend some time together when we have the chance.”

“I’d spend more time with you if we liked more of the same things.” What Star really wanted to say was,
“Yeah, like all the time you spent with me when I was growing up?”
But she couldn’t get the spiteful words out of her mouth.

“What kind of things are you talking about?” Mom asked.

Star placed her scissors on the table and looked up at Mom. “I like to play the guitar, sing, and write songs, and you don’t like music at all,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. One thing she didn’t need this evening was a blowup with Mom. They had those too often as it was.

“That’s not true. I just don’t care for the kind of music you sing and play.”

Star’s defenses began to rise, despite her resolve to keep things calm. “And just what do you think’s wrong with my music?”

“It’s slow and the lyrics you write are depressing.”

“Maybe that’s because I feel depressed a lot of the time.”

Mom folded her arms and glared at Star. “You have nothing more to be depressed about than I do, but I don’t go around singing doom and gloom.”

Star clenched her piece of material so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “It’s not doom and gloom. I’m just expressing the way I feel.”

“And how is that?”

“Alone and unloved.”

“You have no call to feel unloved. Ever since you were a baby, I’ve taken care of you. That’s more than I can say for—”

Star lifted her hand. “Let’s not even go there, Mom. I’ve heard the old story so many times I know every word by heart.”

“Well, good. Then you ought to appreciate the sacrifices I’ve made for you and get that chip off your shoulder.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Star figured there was no point in saying anything more. Mom had raised her single-handedly and thought she deserved the Mother-of-the-Year award. Anything more Star had to say would only fall on deaf ears.

Deciding this might be a good time to change the subject, Star said, “You know, Mom, it wouldn’t hurt you to do something creative, something different for a change. I’ve actually met some rather interesting people at the quilt class. I really think I’m gonna enjoy getting to know them all better, too—especially Emma; she really seems nice.”

“You, making friends? You’ve pushed people away most of your life. What’s different now?”

“Well, there must be a reason Grandma wanted me to learn how to quilt. Who knows—maybe it goes beyond quilting; and to tell you the truth, I’m kind of anxious to find out.”

“Is that so?” Mom put her hands on her hips. “Well, we’ll just see how long that lasts.”

“Boy, Mom, you can be so negative.” Star flipped the ends of her hair over her shoulder. “I really don’t care what you think. I have a feeling that Emma’s classes are just what I need right now. Learning to quilt could even be a positive thing for me.”

“You’ve got to be kidding! It sounds to me like you’re putting more faith in this Amish woman than you ever have with me.”

It’s kinda hard to put your faith in someone who thinks more about themselves than she does her daughter
, Star thought. With all the little lies Mom had told over the years, Star didn’t see how she could be expected to have much faith in her. Of course, in all fairness to Mom, Star had to admit that since they’d moved to Goshen, Mom had seemed a bit more settled and not quite so flighty. Star hadn’t caught her telling any white lies either, so at least that much was good.

Mom tapped her foot as she continued. “You really don’t know the half of it. I gave up a lot to give you a decent life, and—”

“Before you say anything more and get yourself in an uproar, just listen to what I have to say,” Star interrupted.

“Okay, sure; go right ahead.”

“As I was going to say about Emma … she truly listens when people talk, and she seems genuine, too. She reminds me of Grandma in a lot of ways. She alone would give me a reason to continue going to the classes.”

Seeing that she had Mom’s attention, Star rushed on. “Then there’s this biker dude, who I’m pretty sure is nothing more than a big ole teddy bear. There’s also a very pleasant African-American woman who’s a preacher’s wife, and a Hispanic schoolteacher who has the cutest baby girl. It’s a shame the poor guy’s wife passed away six months ago. Oh, and there’s a married couple attending the class. I can’t figure them out yet, but they made the time in class quite interesting. It’s almost funny to watch ‘em pick on each other.”

“Those people sound unique all right, but I still think you’re all talk about this and won’t follow through.” Mom shrugged. “But you go ahead and do what you want; you always have.”

Star’s defenses rose. “Just forget it, Mom. You can’t see past your own issues, but mark my words: I’m gonna prove you wrong about this, because I’ll not only finish the class, but I’m gonna learn to make a beautiful quilted wall hanging, ‘cause that’s what Grandma wanted me to do!” Star picked up her scissors and started cutting another pattern piece.

“So are you going to see the movie with me or not?” Mom asked, waving the newspaper in front of Star’s face.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I said no. I’m going to spend the evening working on my quilt assignment.”

Mom stared at Star with a look of disgust. “Fine then; I’ll see if Mike wants to see the movie with me!”

“That’s a really great idea,” Star mumbled as Mom hurried from the room. “He’s probably better company than me anyway.” Trying not to let the tears clouding her vision spill over, she squared her shoulders.
Boy, just once I’d like to be the one who says, “I told you so.”

Shipshewana

By the time Emma reached Mary’s yard, she was out of breath and panting. She gasped when she saw how the fire had gotten out of control. And if the wind started to blow, the house could be in danger. Maybe Emma’s own home, as well.

Don’t borrow trouble
, Emma told herself as she hurried to Mary and her family watching the firemen battle the flames.
We just need to trust God and pray for the best
.

“Is everyone okay?” Emma asked, touching Mary’s arm.

“Jah, we’re all fine,” Brian said before Mary could respond. “I’m afraid I wasn’t watching close enough, and some of the sparks from our bonfire caught the shed on fire.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and pushed a lock of sandy brown hair aside. “I tried putting it out with the garden hose, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that I needed the fire department, so I sent Stephen to the phone shack to make the call while I kept the water going.”

“After the fire trucks got here,” Mary continued, “Brian and the boys wanted to help, but they were told to stand aside and let the fireman take care of the situation.” Tears gathered in the corners of her dark eyes. She appeared to be terribly shaken.

“While one group of men works at getting the fire out, another group is keeping the house and barn wet so they don’t catch fire,” Brian added.

Emma was glad the fire department wasn’t too far from where they lived. Remembering back to the time in her early marriage when she and Ivan had lost their barn and several of the livestock because they’d lived so far from help made her glad that they’d moved closer to town several years ago, where help during a crisis was readily available.

“Where are the little ones?” Emma asked Mary, noting that the children were nowhere in sight.

“Lisa and Sharon were frightened, so I sent them next door to our neighbors,” Mary replied.

“You could have sent them to my house.” Emma felt a little hurt that Mary had chosen to send the children to their English neighbor’s rather than over to her.

“I knew as soon as you heard the sirens you’d be coming over here,” Mary explained.

Emma nodded. Even if the children had been at her house, she probably would have come. But she would have told them to stay put while she went to check on things. She’d never been one to sit around and wait to find out how things were going. She guessed it was just her curious nature, coupled with the need to help out whenever she could.

“Mary, why don’t you go with your
mamm
back to her house?” Brian suggested, wiping more sweat from his brow. “There’s no point in you both standing out here in the cool evening air.”

Mary shook her head determinedly. “I’m not going anywhere until I know that our house and barn are safe from the fire.”

W
hen Emma woke up on Saturday morning, she felt so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. She’d spent most of yesterday helping Mary clean her house and get rid of the lingering smell of smoke. They’d also fed the men who’d come to help Brian clean up the burned wreckage left by the fire. They’d lost the shed, but thankfully, the barn and house hadn’t caught fire. Sometime next week a new shed would be built, and Brian planned to move the fire pit farther from their outbuildings.

Emma had been glad to hear that. The thought of losing a house to a fire sent chills up her spine. When she was a girl, one of her friends had died in a house fire, and several others in the family had been seriously burned. Emma had never forgotten that tragedy and hoped no one she knew would ever have to go through anything like that.