The Healing Quilt (42 page)

“We need the money. Garth thought the church would help pay his legal costs, but I don't think they will. The elders are not happy about this.”

“I see.” Dr. Kaplan matched up his fingertips and rested his chin on the pointers. “So why haven't you told Garth about your business idea?”

“I just thought I could make some extra money for when we need it. Lawyers are expensive.”

“Garth doesn't want you working?”

“He says it is the man's job to take care of his family. And that we must trust God to take care of our needs.”

“And you agree?”

Again that infinitesimal shrug. Her stranglehold increased on the bear. “Garth is the head of our home.” She knew she sounded like a parrot and that she was copping out.

Tell him. I can't. Tell him.
She buried her face in the bears ear.

When she looked up again, he asked.

“How is your journal coming?”

“Fits and starts.”

“Something I've found that helps in the grieving process is writing a letter to God, telling him how you feel. You might want to write one to your son too.”

Beth jerked and clamped the bear tighter.
Oh, you mean my baby who died.
She swallowed and asked. “Do you think it could help?”

“I've seen it do so. Would you be willing to try?”

She sighed. And nodded, half a nod as if only half of her could agree.

“If you need me, you know you only have to call. I am here for you, and if I'm not here, my service will find me and I will return your call.”

“Okay. I mean, thank you.”

The letter in her purse burned her fingertips as she left the office.

She looked the other way as she drove past the courthouse on her way to Kit's house. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw only puffy eyes and a red nose. No way could she go in looking like this. But if she went home and Garth was there, he'd want to talk with her. He'd ask her what was wrong, and she'd have to say nothing, and they'd both know that was a lie. One look at her face screamed that.

So instead she stopped at a service station and went in the rest room to put cold water on her face and fix her makeup. Thank God for cold compresses, concealer, and powder.

When she walked in the door at Kit's, the group was rerolling the fabric so they could continue quilting. “It's gorgeous.” Beth stopped a ways away so she could see as much of the quilt as possible. The flowing shades of burgundy and mauve outlined by cream looked both regal and warm. “I never realized how gorgeous it would be. The blue is a perfect accent.”

Teza stopped beside her and gave her a quick hug. “It is beautiful, isn't it?”

Beth wished she could lean into Teza's strong arms and just float for a while. Or maybe she needed cuddling the way she'd cuddled that bear, if her tears didn't drown him. She looked up at Teza, into eyes so full of love that her own brimmed over, instantly, as though flipping a light switch.

“You've had a hard morning?” The whisper was gentle as a dandelion kiss.

Beth nodded. “I…” She took a breath of courage. “I'm seeing a counselor.”

“Good.”

That one word permanently joined a friendship that was already basted together.

“I know some Christians feel we should be able to let God handle all our problems. We can, but sometimes we need help. Wise counselors are a real gift from God.”

“Thank you.” Beth sneaked an arm around Teza's waist and hugged her back.

When Beth took a seat, Elsie Mae leaned across the table. “I saw that good-looking husband of yours going into the courthouse. Must be the hearing was today.”

Beth nodded.

“You tell him there's lots of us praying for him.”

“Thank you.”
You dorit know how ghd I am to be here instead of there.

After a silence stretched for a bit, broken only by the hiss of thread through fabric, Teza announced, “When we're done here today, if any of you want to come out and pick cucumbers, I'll give you a real deal.”

“Maybe we should have a pickle party,” Elsie Mae suggested.

“You mean you really make pickles?” Elaine looked around at the others, who all nodded. “I've never made a pickle in my life. I thought they came in jars.”

“I don't suppose you make jam or jelly either.” Elsie Mae looked over her glasses to see Elaine shaking her head. “Well, but you do quilt with even stitches and your pillows are gorgeous. What about it?” She looked to each of the others. “Is she forgiven?”

“Deprived is more like it.” Teza smiled at their looks of shock.

“Well, at least that's better than depraved.” Elaine rolled the tip of her tongue in one cheek. “I think we're due for a coffee break. My rear is so tired from all this sitting every day that I've ordered a new one.”

“Good luck. When you find the catalogue to order from, let me know” Elsie Mae stood and stretched her arms over her head. “Its my shoulders that get stiff. I must sit hunched over or something.”

As they poured their beverages in the kitchen, Elsie Mae leaned her head from side to side, trying to pull the tension out of her neck. “There must have been a cat fight going on right under my bedroom window last night. I didn't sleep a wink.”

“They were most likely doing something other than fighting, but the caterwauling of two cats mating is enough to wake the dead.” Sue poured herself some iced tea.

“Or keep the whole neighborhood awake. Why do they always choose my yard? I don't even have a cat.”

“Let your dog loose.”

“Oh, sure, and have him come back all bloody and get an infection.” Elsie Mae set the pitcher back on the counter. “I'd need a dog the size of a Mack truck.”

“I dont know, remember my Chihuahua chased that English bulldog out of our yard the other day. Even drew blood.”

Sue nodded. “Heart size is more important than bark size.”

“You'd think people would keep their cats indoors. I saw another hit on the road.” Beth shuddered and leaned against the doorjamb. “Just breaks my heart.”
And makes me cry like about anything eke does.

Kit set a plate of gingersnap cookies on the table. “Had to beat Ryan off these, so you better enjoy them.”

“Where is he, off seeing his girlfriends?”

“No, he took Thomas down to play ball at the park. The two of them really hit it off.”

“Sounds like he is as nice as he is good looking.” Elaine filled a glass with ice cubes from the refrigerator door and added iced tea. “Cats fighting, hmm? Interesting.”

“If I can ever get that stray cat on my deck into the house, I'll never let him out.” She turned to Elaine. “You know we havent even chosen a name for our cat yet.”

“Doesn't sound like he's quite yours. Maybe when he gets tamer something will come to you.”

“Maybe.”
Seems it takes me a long time to work anything out.

But as they filed out of the kitchen and sat back down at the quilting frame, Beth's thoughts returned to her counseling session. Would she ever be brave enough to tell Dr. Kaplan everything?

As Elaine left the quilters she could feel an idea swirling around, gaining strength at each turn like a tornado as its fingers head toward earth. She drove slowly toward home, waiting for her idea to touch down. How could she get dogs barking or cats fighting under Mrs. Bootsie's window? It would drive her nuts. Even nuttier than she already was. A teenager gyrated along the crosswalk, keeping time to the music only he could hear through his earphones.

“That's it!” “She slammed her hand on the steering wheel. “Vigilante on the move.” Keeping her inner chuckle under control, she swung by the local electronics store, chatted with a young man who had given her good advice on earlier purchases, and left the store with two sacks of merchandise and instructions. Once home she took her tools out of their boxes, followed the clerks diagrams, and, within a short period of time, was ready for the next step.

She drove out of town to the Jefferson County Humane Society.

“I'm here to look for a dog,” she told the woman at the desk. “I'm not sure what I want, but I know I'll know when I see it.”

“That's fine, take your time.” The woman led the way into the aisle between pens containing dogs of every color, size, and breed. “Call me when you want to take one out of the pen.”

“Thank you, I will.” Elaine steeled herself against the pleading eyes and wagging tails that begged her to take them home. When she found a pony-sized dog with a bark to match, she took a small recorder out of her purse, turned it on, and held the microphone closer to the pen. She continued on down the line, recording dogs barking. When she had fifteen minutes of tape, she made her way toward the door.

“If I had a country place I'd take all of you home with me. But thanks for your help.”

Back home Elaine fiddled with her gadgets until they were working the way the young man had said they would, then called Mrs. Smyth. The phone rang and rang with no answer.

She slipped her sandals on and, with palm-sized speaker in hand, crossed to the side of her neighbors house. She could hear Bootsie barking, confirming no one was home. Under the master bedroom window, she planted her device on the trunk of a gnarly juniper. She checked the drive to find no one coming and hurried back across the yards to her own front door, snickering all the while.

“Just wait, Doodlebug, tonight we get even.”

She did her laps in the pool, sucking in a mouth of water on a giggle when she heard her neighbors cranky car drive into the garage. She stopped swimming to cough, and when she could breathe easily, commenced her strokes. Tonight would be the night.

Should I tell George?The
thought made her smile, inside this time.
No, George wouldn't appreciate the brilliance ofthisphn.
But it would be so much more fun to share with someone. And Doodlebug, smart as he was, wouldn't understand.

That evening George nodded and smiled at her recital of the quilting meeting, but she would have bet his year's salary he didn't really hear her. After nearly thirty years of marriage, she knew the look that said he was either planning a difficult surgery or solving a problem at the hospital, but she let it go for now. Half an hour after he went up to bed, she tiptoed up to find the lights off and the snoring on.

She went back down to the deck and pulled her new toy out of the bag by her chair. She watched the Smyth house until she saw all the lights go out. Good thing they were the early-to-bed kind of people, like George. She waited another half hour and flipped the switch.

A dog barking convention convened in the backyard next door. She raised and lowered the volume, playing the control knob like a virtuoso. She managed to keep her glee to a whisper. “It works, it works.” Doodlebug leaped from her lap to the deck, adding his warning to the din.

Lights came on. Someone leaned out the window and screamed, “Shut those dogs up!”

Elaine upped the volume.

In a few moments the light came on in Mrs. Smyths kitchen. A mighty scream rent the air. “Fire!”

Elaine shut off the tape. Was their house on fire? She saw no smoke. Surely there was no fire.

Within minutes a fire truck roared up to the house next door.

Mr. Smyth met them on the front step, his voice carrying like a megaphone of old. “Its out now, though, thank God. Some barking dogs woke us up, or the house would have burned down around our ears.”

Elaine leaned back in the chair and stared up at the stars. Doodlebug leaped up in her lap.

“Bug, I can't win. And this was such a wickedly delightful plan. What do I have to do to get even?”