The Healing Quilt (21 page)

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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

BOOK: The Healing Quilt
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“I cannot believe the man I thought was so nice is actually my sister’s old boyfriend!” Noreen fumed as she drove through town. She had gone shopping after she’d left Emma and Lamar’s, like she always did whenever she was upset, but it had only fueled her anger. Seeing herself in the store mirrors, wearing a turban on her head, had only added to her anxiety. She was glad no one had asked her about it at the quilting class. She would have been mortified to admit what she’d done to her hair, let alone allowing them to see the dark color.

The color of my hair is nothing compared to the agony Bruce put my poor sister through when he broke up with her
, Noreen told herself.
Didn’t he even care that she was carrying his child? Judy was just a teenager, in the prime of her life. She hadn’t even finished high school yet
.

Noreen gripped the steering wheel so hard her fingers ached, as the memories from the past flooded her mind.
Apparently all he cared about was running off to college and forgetting his responsibilities to the innocent young woman he’d taken advantage of. And to think, my sister thought she loved that man! If Judy were still alive, I’d make Bruce meet her face-to-face and beg for her forgiveness. But it’s too late for that. Thanks to that man, Judy is gone, and I’ll never let him meet the child he abandoned before the innocent baby came into this world
.

C
HAPTER
22

E
rika sat in her wheelchair near the front door, dressed in her church clothes but not wanting to go. She dreaded having people stare at her with pity or worse yet say something they thought would cheer her up. According to Dad, those well-meaning folks had her best interests at heart, but she didn’t want their words of encouragement. Even though she was sure they might mean well and want to cheer her up, what they said had the opposite effect.

Last Sunday, while sitting in the greeting area of church waiting for Dad, Erika overhead some of her friends talking about the fun they were having at their high school games. It was basketball season, and being junior varsity cheerleaders, her friends accompanied the team to all of the games.

Erika’s first intention was to go over and join them, but after hearing their conversation, she decided against it. Not wishing the girls to see her, she’d repositioned her wheelchair to the corner where a large artificial plant sat. That way she could eavesdrop, while peeking through the plant’s dusty leaves, without her friends noticing. It ended up being a mistake, because hearing the excitement in their voices as they chatted about the latest game became painful. But stuck behind the plant, she had no choice but to remain where she was and listen.

So far, their basketball team had an unbeaten season, and the next game was against their biggest rival. They’d never won a game against that school, but maybe this year things would be different. At one time that would have meant something to Erika, but now, she couldn’t care less. She dreaded the pep rally the school would have on the afternoon of the approaching game. Because she was in a wheelchair, she’d have to sit conspicuously alongside the bleachers in the gymnasium. The thought of being forced to watch her friends go through their cheering routines made Erika even more miserable. Knowing she should be out there helping to rouse school spirit caused her to feel worthless and apart from everyone else.

Erika closed her eyes, remembering how she and her friends had tried out for the cheering squad. They’d all looked forward to high school with anticipation of what it would it bring, but what happened to her that summer changed everything.

I would have made the squad if not for my diving accident
, she thought, opening her eyes.

Erika dreaded going to high school and church.
Sure wish I could get out of going today. I’m so tired of it all
.

When Dad came out of his bedroom, he smiled at Erika and said, “Ready to go?”

She shook her head. “Can’t we do something else today? I get tired of going to church every Sunday and seeing the same people with fake smiles on their faces.”

Dad’s face tightened. “They’re not fake smiles, Erika.”

“Well, the things they say to me seem phony.”

He shook his head. “You’re just too sensitive.”

She folded her arms. “You would say that. You never agree with me about anything.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

She gave no reply.
It wouldn’t matter what I said. Dad always thinks he’s right
.

“We’re not staying home from church,” Dad said, “but we can do something fun afterward.”

“Like what?”

“How about we go to the beach? It’s a beautiful sunny day, and—”

“No thanks. There’s nothing for me to do on the beach anymore.” Erika frowned. “I can’t swim or even play in the sand, and it’s no picnic to sit there and watch others have all the fun.”

Dad knelt on the floor in front of her chair and took hold of Erika’s hands. “I understand how you feel, but—”

“No, you don’t.” Tears gathered in Erika’s eyes, and she blinked, in an attempt to keep them from dripping onto her cheeks. “Everyone says they understand just to try and make me feel better, but nobody with two good legs could possibly know how I feel.”

“I’m trying, Erika.” Dad patted her arm and stood. “I just wish you could find something that would give you pleasure and bring meaning to your life. I’d hoped the quilting class might do that for you.”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Those people are weird, Dad.”

He scowled at her. “I know Emma and Lamar dress different than we do, but I don’t think they’re weird.”

“I wasn’t talking about them. I meant the other quilting students.” Shaking her head, Erika muttered, “Yesterday there was a biker in the class, with a scruffy beard and several tattoos. He’s from Indiana, and I guess he’ll be staying with Emma and Lamar for a while.”

“Don’t be so judgmental, Erika. He might be a nice man.”

“Whatever.” She turned her wheelchair toward the front door. “If we have to go to church this morning then let’s get it over with. There’s a new computer game I wanna try out this afternoon.”

Dad smiled. “That’s good. I’m glad you have something to look forward to.”

Erika shrugged.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me bringing Maddie along?” Kim asked Jan as they headed to the beach in her little red car, which they had also taken to church.

“Nope. Don’t mind a’tall. That way, she won’t have to be locked up all day.” Maddie lay on the seat between them, and Jan reached over and stroked the dog’s head. “My dog, Brutus, likes to go places with me, too, whenever I take my truck. If I had him with me now, I’ll bet when we got to the beach he’d have a ball traipsing through the water and be chasin’ after every seagull he saw.”

“How’d you end up with Brutus?” Kim asked.

“Got him from a friend of mine when he was just a pup. I remember you said you got Maddie at the pound.”

“Yeah. I’d read an article in the paper that the Humane Society was asking for help. After breaking up with my boyfriend, I was feeling kind of down and thought doing something helpful might get me out of my mood.” Kim paused, noticing that Jan was watching her intently. “I bought a few sacks of dog food to donate, and after arriving at the animal shelter, I ended up looking at all the animals,” she continued. “I was shocked to see so many that needed a good home. And well, to make a long story short, Maddie and I seemed to connect, and I felt like I was saving her life.” Kim smiled. “Little did that dog know that she actually saved mine.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jan agreed. “Brutus is almost like family to me.”

“Maybe sometime you can come to Florida in your truck and bring your dog along,” Kim said, feeling Jan out to see if he had any interest in returning to Sarasota and hoping he did.

“Maybe so, only driving the truck wouldn’t be near as much fun as ridin’ my bike.”

“Tell me more about your daughter,” Kim said. “What’s she like, and what interests does she have?”

A huge smile spread across Jan’s face. “Star’s amazing. She sings and plays the guitar. Oh, and she writes most of her own music.”

“That’s impressive. Has she ever had any of her songs published?”

“Yeah, a couple, but I’m hopin’ she’ll get a few more breaks, ’cause she’s got a talent that deserves to be recognized.”

“Sounds like Star is a special young woman. I’m sure you’re proud of her.”

Jan bobbed his head. “You got that right. Every chance we get, we spend time together.”

Kim smiled. Jan might look a bit rough around the edges, but even after knowing him for such a short time, she could tell he had a heart of gold. She’d been surprised yesterday when he’d shared several things about his past, including how Star’s mother had run off with her when she was a baby. It was sad to think that Jan had been cheated out of the opportunity to be a father to his only daughter until they’d met by chance during one of Emma’s quilting classes.

Kim didn’t understand how any mother could have taken her child and run from the child’s father, unless they were being abused. Even though she didn’t know Jan all that well, she felt sure that wasn’t the case. From what Jan had said yesterday, Star’s mother was kind of a flake who’d gone from one relationship to another, while Jan had wanted to settle down and raise a family.

I can relate to that
, Kim thought with regret.
But none of the men I’ve dated have had marriage on their mind
. She glanced at Jan out of the corner of her eye as he continued to pet Maddie.
I’d better not get my hopes up about Jan, either, because with the miles between our homes, it’s not likely that our relationship will go very far
.

As B.J. sat on a wooden bench at the beach, painting a picture, he thought about Noreen being his ex-girlfriend’s older sister. He’d met Noreen a couple of times before she got married and moved away, but Judy had called her sister “Norrie,” so he didn’t realize her name was actually Noreen. Not that he would have recognized Noreen when they’d met that first day of the quilting class, even if she had used the same first name. B.J. and Noreen had both changed quite a bit over the years.

A sense of regret welled in his soul. He’d almost forgotten about his high school sweetheart until her name was mentioned. B.J. and Judy had been serious about each other back then, and he’d thought he might even marry her someday, but his folks had put an end to the relationship, telling Bruce that he was too young to get serious and that he had his whole life and a career ahead of him. They insisted that he break things off with Judy and sent him away to college. When he came home at the end of his first year, he was surprised to learn that Judy and her family had moved, and no one seemed to know where they’d gone. His folks said it was for the best, that he could do better than a girl like Judy. Well, he’d found a good woman when he met Brenda, who’d later become his wife, but he’d never compared her to Judy. Not until now, at least.

Judy was a lot like B.J.—kind of shy and reserved—and she had a creative side. She wrote poems and short stories, which she’d often shared with him when they were alone. Brenda had been B.J.’s opposite, yet he’d been attracted to her from the moment they’d met at a party thrown by one of their mutual college friends. Brenda had been outgoing and talkative. He remembered how his mother, after meeting Brenda, had called her a social butterfly. His mom and dad had encouraged the relationship from the beginning, and B.J. hadn’t objected because he was attracted to Brenda’s magnetic personality and good looks. Her jet-black hair and sparkling blue eyes could have turned any man’s head.

Judy, on the other hand, was rather plain, although not unattractive. She had light brown hair, which she wore in a ponytail much of the time, and didn’t care about the latest fashion trends. She was down-to-earth and always looked on the bright side of things.

I wonder where Judy is now
. B.J. pondered.
Noreen left Emma and Lamar’s in such a hurry yesterday, I didn’t get the chance to ask. I’ll question Noreen about Judy when I see her at the next class, though. I’d like to reconnect with Judy—for old time’s sake
.

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