The Healing Quilt (37 page)

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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #Fiction, #Religious

BOOK: The Healing Quilt
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“And easily killed.” Kit spoke in the direction of her stitching fingers.

“You oughta come with me next week, Kit. Might be different going to a new church, a good thing.”

“Maybe I will.” Kit caught the look that flashed between Teza and Sue.
Ganging up on me, than whatyoure doing
“How's the taming of the kitty coming, Beth?”

“If I lie on the lounger and close my
eyes
, he'll jump up and curl tight against my knees, but if he senses I'm awake, he leaves. Silly cat. One of these days he'll let me pet him. He just doesn't know it yet.”

“Cats are perverse creatures, not easygoing like most dogs.” Kit glanced over at Missy, stretched out on her side with one long ear flopped over her eye, snoring in a spot of sunshine.

“Like Bootsie?” Beth giggled as she shook her head. “I think of that, a real David-and-Goliath kind ofthing, and I just have to laugh.”

“So, Teza, what's happening on the farm?” Sue asked.

“I brought corn on the cob for lunch, and there's some in there for all of you to take home for dinner. Made twenty quarts of hamburger pickles yesterday. Hardly get them on the shelves and people buy them. Maybe I should go into the pickle and jam business.”

“In your spare time.” Kit shook her head. “Here you are, seventy years old with cancer, and you can still work rings around the rest of us.”

Teza ignored her niece. “I am going to start the fruit quilt. I decided since it's applique, it will be a good thing to take the blocks along for stitching during treatments and tests, keep my mind off the procedures. Give me something to look forward to.” She pushed the needle through the layers with the leather thimble on her middle finger.

“It sounds beautiful. I'd love to help you with it, if you want an extra set of hands.” Beth pulled the new thread through her needle and returned to her stitching. “Did anyone count how many diamonds we have in this thing?”

Kit shook her head. “Didn't have the heart. I could put some music on if you'd like.” She glanced around, but no one took her up on her offer.

“Where is Mark working now?” Sue asked. “Been so long since I've seen him, I almost forget what he looks like.”

“Ah.”
Come on brain. kick in gear. Make something up! Do something!”
Salt Lake City.”

Sue looked up from stitching. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, no, not at all.”
Liar. You knew that one of these days someone was going to ask. You should have been prepared.

“Okay, my friend. Out with it.” Sue stabbed her needle into the fabric and cupped her hands on the frame.

Kit sucked in a deep breath.
Tell her. Get it out in the open where you can deal with it.
“Mark took an extended leave of absence.”
Than one way of describing it.
“He…he felt he couldn't deal with all the memories here and needed some time off.” The confession trailed to a whisper.

“When?”

January.

“All this time, and you didn't tell me anything about it?

Kit ducked her head. “I know but.

“Don't feel bad, she didn't tell me either.” Teza stood and stretched. “I think we need a coffee break here. I'll go put it on.”

“Oh, Kit, I'm so sorry.” Beth reached out and stroked Kit's hand.

“I… I thought that I should keep his secret for him. That if I just hung on, pretty soon he'd realize what he'd done and come home. I never dreamed it would be this long.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“Oh yes. Not every day but…”
Not often, hardly ever, than closer to the truth, so really the truth is somewhere in the middle.

“Do Ryan and Jennifer know?” Sue returned to the conversation.

“Sort of.”
I sound like the wimp of all wimps.

“Sort ofi So you've been bearing this alone all this time, on top of the grieving for Amber.” Sue took a deep breath to slow and lower her voice. “Good, now that that's out, how can we help you?”

Kit shrugged. “I don't know how to help myself. I just keep busy and try to act as if nothing is wrong. I've been hearing from him more often lately, though. I think that is a good sign.”

“Good sign, my foot. He deserves to be horsewhipped. Walking off and leaving you all alone like this. Where is his head?” Sue's eyes glinted fire, and she stabbed the needle through the layers so hard, she yelped.

“Don't bleed on the quilt!” Kit snapped back.

“I won't!” Sue sucked her finger. “Teza's right. I need a cup of coffee.” Finger in her mouth, Sue pushed back her chair and stomped off to the kitchen. “You still keep Band-Aids in the cabinet?”

“Yes.”

“You've had so much to bear.” Beth knelt beside Kits chair.

“Yeah…well, we all have. That's just the way life is. Sometimes it plain stinks.”

THIRTY-TWO

The calendar never lies.

“Honey, I need you to come bail me out!”

Bail you out?
“Where are you?”

“Jail.”

Beth stared at the calendar on the wall by the phone. August 21. Sure enough, this had been the day of the demonstration at the abortion clinic. Garth hadnt reminded her this morning because he knew how adamantly she was against his taking part in such things, let alone leading them. She'd made her opinion known several years earlier, not that it had done any good.

Now, what she'd always feared had come true. Her husband, the abortion fighting preacher, had been arrested.

“What do I have to do?”

“Bring the checkbook down so I can post bail.”

Beth sat down in the chair, her knees no longer strong enough to hold her up. “Where?”

“City hall, around on the north side. There's parking right out there. You'll see a sign that says Police Station Detention Center. The officer on the desk will tell you what to do.”

“Garth, I…”

“Beth, just get down here.” His tone snapped at her out of the receiver.

“Yes, sir!” Beth let her annoyance ring through the words before slamming the receiver back in the cradle. The nerve of him, yelling at her like that. It wasn't as if she had to bail someone out of jail every day of the week.
How should I know what to do? Serves you right. You can just sit there and…
She clapped her palms to her cheeks. “How can I even think such things?”
How can I go down there by myself Do we have enough money to get him out?
“Please, Lord, I don't want to do this.” While her mind teemed with questions and pleas, she combed her hair, saw a stain on her blouse, changed into a T-shirt under a denim jumper, applied lipstick, and locked the door behind her. She reached for her purse to get out her car keys, only to find no purse on her shoulder.

“Oh, Lord, how can I be so stupid? Garth will kill me, and I don't blame him one bit.” If only they had put a key under a rock or something. If only she hadn't been in such a hurry. If only they knew the neighbors well enough to have asked one of them to keep a key.

“Why did I even answer the phone? If I had been over at Kit's quilting, I wouldn't be in this fix.” She sat down on the front porch step. “Now that is one of the more stupid things I've said in a long time.” She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “Come on, Beth, think.”

Are there any windows open?
Not trusting her memory, she walked around the house, checking all the windows. Those open were on the second floor. Big help.

“So, dummy, what are your choices?”
Run away from home.
Can't do that without car keys, although that had been something she'd thought about lately.
Sit here and bawl
That was so close to happening she had to keep blinking to thwart the tears.
Ask the neighbors for help.
What could they do, jimmy the locks? Why was it that in the movies they could open any door within ten seconds with a credit card? She'd tried it once, no luck.
Sit here and bawl.
Closer to becoming a reality every second.

Bash in a window.
No, that would make Garth really mad. However, sitting in jail longer than necessary would most likely make him madder.
Good thinking. Ha, serves him right. No, itdoesntyou wimp. At least he is standing for what he believes in while you hide under the covers.
She surged to her feet, picked up one of the bricks that sat on an angled edge lining the front walk, and stomped back up the steps. The first time she tapped the glass only a ping sounded.

“Here goes nothing.” She stared at the lower left-hand pane. This house would be so easy to burgle with twelve panes in the front door like this. She smacked the lower left one a good one, and glass shattered into the shirred lace curtain and down to the floor. Taking a hint from a police show she'd seen one time, she removed each shard of glass still stuck in the frame and laid it carefully off to the side. When cleared, she reached in, pushed the curtain aside, and felt for the doorknob. At least she hadn't set the deadbolt. Of course, that was impossible without the keys. With the door now opened, she tried to sidestep the glass on the floor, thought about sweeping up the mess, grabbed her purse with the car keys off the counter, and headed back out the door. At least she could turn the deadbolt now.

Here I am worrying about the deadbolt when Garth is sitting in a jail cell waiting for me. By now he must be thinking I've gone bonkers or something and won't ever show up.

At least the car started. That would have been one thing too much. She checked her watch. Over an hour since Garth had called.

Don t go speeding. All I need is a speeding ticket right now. The officer would ask, (“Whatsyour hurry?” and I'd say, “I'm on my way to the station to bail my husband, a political activist, out of jail
“By the time she parked in the parking lot, her hands were so sweaty they slipped on the steering wheel, her heart was doing cartwheels, and her feet wore size twenty concrete boots. She sucked in a deep breath, locked the car door with the keys so she couldn't leave them inside, and started for the door, ten miles away. Never had a parking lot been so huge, nor a street so wide, nor three steps so high. Since the building must have been built at the turn of the century—the last one—the hall needed paint, the floor new covering, and at least they could put in bigger light bulbs. The officer behind the beat-up metal desk appeared about as old as his surroundings, and if he was happy about anything at all, he didn't notify his face.

“Help you, miss?”

“Uh, yes, my husband is here. He, uh, needs bail.”

“Name.” The man set his fingers on the keyboard in front of him. The phone rang. “ ‘Scuse me.” He answered the phone, typed some information into the computer. “That'll be officer Kennedy. I'll put you through to him.” He clicked a button on the phone, laid the receiver back in the cradle, and looked up to Beth.

“Name?”

“My name?”

“No, your husband's.”

“Reverend Garth Donnelly.”

“Ah, that pastor that got hauled in with the picketers.” His condescending tone told her exactly what he thought of such goings-on. “Shame it got violent.”

“Violent! Is Garth hurt?”

“I can't tell you anything about that. Take a seat over there, and someone will come for you.”

Beth sat down on a wooden bench and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at the older man sitting at the other end of the bench.
Turned violent? What could have happened?
Garth had been involved in other protests, and she knew he always made sure everything was legal. After all, demonstrating for what you believed in was an American right.

Her thumb had about created a scab on the back of the other by the time a woman came to get her. Her name tag said Officer Benson, and her face looked slightly familiar.

“Hi, Mrs. Donnelly, you can come with me now.”

Beth stood. “Do I know you?” How inane did that sound? “Please, I'm sorry…

“No, you don't know me, but I've seen you at church. I'm always in such a rush I dont stick around to meet people, even the new pastor and his wife. Sure sorry to be meeting you like this.”

Not half as sorry as I am.
“Ah, can you tell me anything? The officer out there said something about violence. Is Garth injured?”

“No, he was lucky. Some idiot threw a rock through the window, and several people got cut by flying glass.”

Beth thought of the pile of glass at home. That ought to make Garth even happier.

Officer Benson slowed her pace and leaned closer to whisper in Beth's ear. “If you could talk him out of doing things like this, it would be good. The judge here in town is going to have fits three sides from Sunday over this. And since Pastor Garth is one of the organizers, it won't go well for him.”

Beth groaned.
Please, God, help us.

“They're just lucky no one in the clinic was injured.” She opened a door and motioned Beth to go through.

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