The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club (28 page)

They’d both spoken at the same time; so Emma motioned to Lamar and said, “Sorry; you go first.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Are your shingles blisters still causing you a lot of pain?”

“Jah, but I’m feeling a bit better than I did yesterday, so that’s a good sign.” Emma’s throat felt dry, so she reached for her glass of water and took a drink. “How’d things go with the quilt class today?”

In response to Emma’s question, Lamar’s forehead wrinkled. “I think I did okay with the lesson, but that group of people you’re teaching are sure a bunch of half-stitched quilters.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’ve all got problems, Emma, and with the exception of Pam, none of ‘em can sew all that well.”

“I know they have problems, but then who doesn’t?”

“True.”

Emma went on to explain that some of her students had opened up to her, and she’d been trying not only to teach them to quilt, but to help with their problems at home.

“From what I can tell, they’ve got plenty of those.” Lamar took a bite of his soup. “It’s cool enough to eat now,” he announced.

Emma began eating, too, and as they ate, they talked more about the people in her class.

“That couple—the Johnstons—seem to be having trouble with their marriage,” Lamar said.

Emma nodded. “They’re seeing a counselor who suggested they do more things together.”

“Is that why they’re taking the quilt class?”

“Jah, and hopefully it’ll help bring them closer.”

“Even Paul, who seems to be fairly stable, opened up to the class and told how painful it is that his sister-in-law blames him for his wife’s death.”

Emma frowned. “How can that be? From what Paul’s said, his wife was killed when a truck slammed into the side of their car.”

“That’s right, but I guess Paul’s sister-in-law thinks he could have done something to prevent the accident.”

“That’s
lecherich
,” Emma said with a shake of her head.

“It may be ridiculous, but as I told Paul today, some people have to find someone to blame when things don’t go as they’d like.”

“Unfortunately, that’s true. Some even blame God for all their troubles.”

“What about the big fellow with the girl’s name tattooed on his arm? Why’s he taking the class?” Lamar asked, moving their conversation in a little different direction.

Emma explained about Jan’s probation officer suggesting he find something creative to do, and then she told him the reasons the others had given for taking quilting lessons.

“Ruby Lee had some problems today,” Lamar said, frowning.

“With her quilting project?”

He shook his head. “She shared with the class that her best friend had died two weeks ago, and she’d just found out about it.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.”

“Jah, and she also mentioned that they’ve been having problems in their church, and it’s affected her faith in God.”

“What kind of problems?”

Emma listened intently as Lamar repeated all that Ruby Lee had shared with the class. “She ended up leaving early, and I felt bad because I wasn’t sure what to say in order to help with her distress.”

“It’s okay, Lamar. You don’t know those people very well.” Emma pursed her lips. “As soon as I’m done eating, I’m going out to the phone shack and give Ruby Lee a call. I just hope I’m up to teaching the class next week, because if anyone else shares their problems, I really want to be there for them.”

“I can understand that.”

“Changing the subject,” Emma said, “Sometime I’d like to see those quilt designs you’ve created.”

Lamar smiled and pushed back his chair. “No problem there. I brought two of ‘em with me today to show to your class.”

He left the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a cardboard box, which he placed on the counter. “This one I call Pheasant Trail,” he said, holding up a quilted pillow slip.

“Ach! That’s beautiful,” Emma said, amazed at not only the design of what looked like a trail made by a bird, but also the pretty shades of brown material that had been used.

“This one I call Goose Feathers on the Loose,” Lamar said, reaching into the box again and retrieving a wall hanging done up in white and a few shades of blue. Emma thought it was even prettier than the other.

“That feather design is beautiful. You certainly are creative,” she said. “I never imagined you had the ability to do that.”

Lamar’s thick eyebrows furrowed. “What are you sayin’, Emma—that I’m
dumm
?”

“No, no, of course you’re not dumb. I just meant …” She paused and fanned her face, which suddenly felt very warm. “I’m just surprised, that’s all, because I’ve never known a man who has the kind of talent you have or enjoys working with quilts.”

Lamar’s frown was replaced with a smile. “I think your students were a bit surprised as well,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m sorry that I doubted your ability to teach the class. You obviously know quite a bit about quilts.”

“At least from the designing end of things, I do,” he said with a nod. “Of course, working with my wife in her quilt shop, I learned a lot about making quilts, too.”

Emma leaned closer to the table and started eating her soup. She wondered what other things she didn’t know about Lamar.

Goshen

Soon after Star got home from the quilt class, she decided to work in her grandma’s flower beds. They were getting overgrown with weeds, and it didn’t look like Mom was going to tackle them anytime soon. When

Mom wasn’t working, she was busy entertaining know-it-all Mike, with whom she was spending the day. He’d come by for Mom right after breakfast, saying he wanted to take her shopping at the mall in South Bend, and then they would see a show and go out to dinner after that. Why they couldn’t have gone to the mall in Goshen, Star couldn’t figure out, but at least with Mom and Mike being in South Bend, it was better than him hanging around here all day. Now Star would have the run of the house.

Star had just finished pulling weeds in one flower bed and had moved over to start on another when their nineteen-year-old neighbor boy, Matt Simpson, came out of his house and sauntered into Grandma’s yard.

Oh great, Star thought. Here comes Mr. Pimple Face, who can’t even grow a beard
.

“What are you up to?” he asked, kneeling beside Star on the grass.

“I’m weeding the flower beds. What’s it look like?”

“Hmm …”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d move back, ‘cause you’re invading my space.”

“Hey, don’t mind me. I’m just tryin’ to be friendly,” he said, moving back just a bit.

Star stabbed her shovel into the ground and pulled up a weed.
Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away
.

“Say, what are you doin’ for supper this evening?” Matt asked.

Star kept digging and pulling at more weeds, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“Hello. Uh … did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you all right, and quit winking at me.”

“I wasn’t. The sun was in my eyes, and I was squinting, not winking.” He leaned closer again. “What are you doin’ for supper?”

“I really don’t know. I’ll probably fix a sandwich or something.”

“I thought maybe you’d like to go out for a burger and fries.”

“With you?”

“Yeah.”

She glared at him. “Get lost, creep. I wouldn’t give the time of day to someone like you.”

His blue eyes flashed angrily, and he pushed some of his auburn hair out of his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, no. I’m not interested.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a loser, and losers are nothing but trouble. I ought to know; I had a loser for a dad and another loser for a stepdad.” She grimaced. “Losers are losers; that’s all they’ll ever be.”

Matt frowned. “Sorry about your loser dads, but it’s no reason for you to compare me with them, ‘cause I’m not a loser!”

“Oh, yeah? Then how come you’re still living at home, sponging off your folks, and won’t look for a job?”

“Who told you that?”

She shrugged. “Let’s just say it’s common knowledge.”

“For your information, I do have a job.”

“Oh really? Doin’ what?”

“I have a paper route now, and I’ve got enough money in my wallet to take us both out for a burger and fries. A milkshake, too, if you want it.”

She grunted. “Give me a break. I’m not goin’ anywhere with you!”

Matt wrinkled his freckled nose. “That suits me just fine, ‘cause unless you were willing to wear something sensible on our date, I wasn’t plannin’ to take you out anyways.”

“I wear what I feel good in, and if you don’t like it, that’s just too bad.”

“Why do you have to be so mean? Are you tryin’ to hurt me so I’ll leave you alone?”

She gave a nod. “That’s what I do best … I push people away—especially losers like you.”

Looking more than a little hurt, Matt stood and shuffled out of the yard. “You know,” he yelled over before going into his house, “I knew your grandma, and I can’t believe you’re even related to her! And you know what else? You’re nothin’ like her, even if you are pullin’ weeds in her garden the way she used to like to do!” With that, he stormed into his house and slammed the door.

Star flinched. She knew she’d been hard on Matt, but if she’d given the poor sap even a hint of niceness, he might have thought he had a chance with her. “Like that’ll ever happen. If I was gonna go out with someone, it would be with a guy like Jan, who at least has a decent-paying job and likes some of the same things as me. Not that he’d be interested in someone as young as I am.” She stabbed the shovel into the dirt again. “But if he did ask me out, I’d probably say yes.”

S
hortly before noon on Wednesday of the following week, Emma stepped outside and headed for the phone shack to check her messages. She hoped she might hear something from Ruby Lee. She’d tried calling her on Saturday and then again on Monday. Both of those times, though, she had to leave a message on Ruby Lee’s answering machine. Could Ruby Lee be out of town, or was she avoiding talking to Emma?

I wish I’d been able to teach my class on Saturday, Emma thought as she approached the phone shack. Maybe I could have said something to help Ruby Lee when she shared her troubles with the others
.

Emma was almost to the shack when the door opened suddenly and Mary stepped out. “Ach, Mom, I didn’t know you were out here!” Mary said, jumping back, her eyes going wide.

“I came to make a phone call,” Emma replied. “Sorry if I startled you.”

“No problem. I’m done with the phone now.” Mary moved aside. “How are you feeling, Mom? Are you still in a lot of pain?”

Emma shook her head. “I’m doing better every day. I don’t think this bout with shingles is quite as bad as the first time I had them.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I plan on teaching my quilt class this Saturday,” Emma said. “I appreciated Lamar’s help last week, but I don’t want to impose on him again.”

Mary smiled. “I know I’ve said this before, but I think Lamar is really a very nice man, and I also wanted to tell you that—”

“I’d better get my phone call made,” Emma said, quickly changing the subject. She wasn’t in the mood to hear more of her daughter’s thoughts about Lamar, because she had a hunch that Mary wanted to see her get married again. Why, she couldn’t imagine. Didn’t Mary realize that no one could ever take Ivan’s place in Emma’s heart? For that matter, could Mary so easily accept a stepfather? Maybe she thought if Emma married Lamar, then the family wouldn’t have to help her so much.