The Quilter's Daughter

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The Quilter's Daughter Page 3

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “All right then.” Abby stepped out from behind the counter, and Lester steered her toward the front door.

  “I’ll have her back within the hour,” he called over his shoulder.

  A short time later, Abby and Lester were seated at a booth inside the Subway place, sharing a turkey hoagie that had been made on a foot-long roll.

  Leaning against the seatback, Abby began to relax. It was the first time all day that she’d really felt calm, but then she knew why. She always felt good whenever she was with Lester. She had known since their first date that she could spend the rest of her life with him. He was kind, gentle, and hard-working, the way her daed had been when he was alive.

  Lester reached across the table and took her hand. “Your eyes are sure pretty, ya know that? I always did like the color of sweet, dark chocolate.”

  Abby smiled, despite the blush she felt cascade over her cheeks. Lester always knew the right thing to say. “Danki,” she murmured.

  “Is your family still plannin’ to come to our wedding in November?” he asked, taking their conversation in a new direction.

  She nodded. “I hope so. But it will depend on how well Mom’s doin’ by then.”

  Lester stared at her strangely. “What’s wrong with your mamm?”

  “I got a note from her the other day, saying she’s expecting a boppli near the end of October.”

  Lester’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

  “It would seem that God has given Mom and Abraham a second chance.”

  He let out a low whistle. “That is great news. If the baby’s due in October and we’re not gettin’ married ’til late November, then there shouldn’t be a problem with them comin’ to Ohio for the wedding, do ya think?”

  “I’m sure there won’t be.” Abby toyed with her napkin. “I am concerned about Mom, though.”

  “How come?”

  “She’s not so young anymore. A lot could happen.” She took a small bite of her sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “When the time gets closer to Mom’s delivery, I’ll need to go to Pennsylvania to help out. Then I’ll have to stay until after the boppli comes and I’m sure Mom can handle things on her own.”

  Lester grabbed his cup of iced tea and gulped some down. “We’ve waited a long time to get married, Abby. I sure hope you’re home in plenty of time for the big day.”

  “Oh, I will be,” Abby assured him.

  “Will Lena run the quilt shop in your absence, or do you think you’ll have to hire a second person to help out?”

  Abby nibbled on the inside of her cheek. Should she tell Lester about Lena’s suspected pregnancy or wait until she knew for sure? “I’m hoping Lena can mind the store, but if that doesn’t work out, I’ll have to think about hiring someone else.”

  Lester stared at Abby as he swirled his straw around the inside of his cup. “I can see by your solemn expression that you’re worried. Is it leavin’ Lena in charge of the store, or are you frettin’ over your mamm’s condition?”

  “A little of both,” Abby admitted. “Mostly, I’m worried about Mom.”

  “Is she doin’ okay so far?”

  “Jah, but she’s having some morning sickness.”

  “That’s pretty common.”

  “True, but—”

  Lester held up his hand. “Abby, please try not to worry. Women have been havin’ babies for thousands of years.”

  She chuckled softly. “I know. Ever since Adam and Eve. But this is my mamm we’re talkin’ about.”

  He nodded with a look understanding. “She’ll be fine; just pray.”

  “I am and shall continue to do so.”

  “Daddy, Daddy, guess what?”

  Jim Scott set two paint buckets on the floor of his garage and turned to face his son. “What’s got you so excited, Jimmy?”

  “Me and Mommy went to the park again today. I saw my friend Allen there.”

  “Is Allen the little boy in the picture Mommy took last week?” Jim asked.

  Jimmy’s dark eyes gleamed as he bobbed his head up and down. “Me and Allen had ice cream.”

  “You did, huh?”

  “Yep. Big chocolate cones.”

  Jim ruffled his son’s chestnut-colored hair. “That’s nice. I’m glad you’ve made a new friend.” And I’m happy my over-protective wife is finally giving you a bit of space to grow and learn.

  “Mommy said we could go to the park again soon.”

  Jim was about to comment when his cell phone rang. “I’ve got to get that, Jimmy. Find something to do until I’m off the phone.”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  Jim flipped the phone cover open. “Scott’s Painting and Decorating. Yeah, sure, Hank. What can I do for you?”

  Absorbed in his conversation, Jim almost forgot about Jimmy until the boy wandered out of the storage closet holding a scrap of material. At first Jim thought it was a paint rag, but then he realized it was multicolored, not white.

  “I’ve got to go, Hank. I’ll call you back.” Jim clicked off and turned to face his son. “What have you got there, Jimmy?”

  When Jimmy opened the piece of fabric to its full length and held it out, Jim felt the blood drain from his face. It was a baby quilt—the same one Jimmy had been wrapped in the day Jim snatched him off the picnic table in an Amish family’s yard.

  “Where’d you get this?” Jim’s hands trembled, but he tried to keep his voice calm as he moved toward his son.

  Jimmy pointed to the storage closet at the back of the garage where Jim kept some of his painting supplies.

  “You’d better let me have that.”

  The child stood there, unmoving.

  “Give it to me, now!”

  Jim barely realized he’d shouted until Jimmy’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Please, don’t start bawling.”

  Jimmy sniffed and handed Jim the quilt.

  I should have thrown this thing out years ago instead of stashing it away with my paint rags. If Linda ever sees the quilt, she’ll start asking questions, and then I’ll have some serious explaining to do.

  “Jimmy, I want you to go inside the house and tell Mommy I’ll be ready for lunch in a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” Jimmy hesitated a moment, then pointed to the quilt. “Can I have that, Daddy?”

  “No! And don’t mention it to your mother. Is that clear?”

  Jimmy blinked, and for a moment Jim thought the boy was going to give in to his tears.

  Jim held the quilt at his side as he squatted in front of his son. “This is just an old rag. It’s nothing you’d want to play with. Understand?”

  Jimmy nodded soberly, then turned toward the door leading to the house. His shoulders were slumped, and he hung his head as though he’d lost one of his favorite toys. Jim felt like a heel, but he couldn’t let Jimmy have the quilt. “I’ll be in soon,” he called to his son’s retreating form.

  As soon as Jimmy was out of sight, Jim made a beeline for his work van. He snapped the back door open and stuffed the quilt inside, burying it under a canvas tarp. When he returned to work after lunch, he would ditch the incriminating piece of evidence.

  “Out of sight, out of mind,” Jim mumbled. But even as the words tumbled out of his mouth, he wondered if he would ever be free of his deception. Jimmy wasn’t legally theirs, and no matter how hard he tried, Jim would never forget the day he had kidnapped the boy.

  Abby stretched her tired neck and shoulder muscles as she sank onto the wooden stool behind the counter where she waited on customers. For the past week she’d been working at the quilt shop alone. Lena had gone to the doctor, and her pregnancy had been confirmed. Since her morning sickness was not any better, Harold insisted she quit helping Abby at the store. He had asked his mother-in-law, Esther, to help Lena with some of the chores at home, saying that he wanted his wife to rest as much as possible. Abby had talked with Rachel about the possibility of her coming to work in the quilt shop, but her friend had just gotten word that her application
at the Farmstead restaurant had been accepted. None of the women who regularly made quilts to be sold at the store seemed interested in working full time, and Abby wondered if she would ever find someone to take Lena’s place. Soon it would be summer, and then even more tourists would flock to Holmes County, which meant her shop would often be full of people.

  The bell above the front door jingled, and Abby glanced up to see who had come in. It was Lester, carrying a paper sack and wearing his usual cheerful smile.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to go out to eat today, so I brought you some lunch.” He placed the sack on the counter and smiled.

  Abby was happy she was betrothed to such a considerate man. “Danki. That was thoughtful.” She reached for the sack. “What’d you bring?”

  “Got us an order of fried chicken, coleslaw, and some hot potato salad from the Farmstead restaurant. Saw your friend Rachel waiting tables.”

  “She started working there a couple days ago.” Abby peeked inside the sack, and the pleasing aroma of warm chicken caused her to lick her lips. “Umm. . .it sure smells good.”

  “Want to eat here, or would ya rather go out to the picnic table in back of your store?” Lester asked.

  “I guess we’d better stay put, in case a customer comes in.”

  “Jah, okay.” Lester pulled another stool over to the counter, sat down beside Abby, and took her hand. They bowed for silent prayer; then he reached into the sack and withdrew their lunch.

  Abby unfolded the napkins and placed the plastic silverware beside their paper plates, while Lester poured cups of iced tea from the thermos he’d brought along. They ate in companionable silence, until Lester wiped his mouth and announced, “My mamm’s comin’ by later on.”

  “Does she need some quilting material?”

  He shrugged and gave Abby a quick wink.

  “You’re up to something. What is it?”

  “I ain’t up to nothin’.”

  Abby was sure Lester was teasing and would tell her if it was anything important, so she didn’t press the issue.

  A short time later, as they were clearing away the remains of their lunch, the front door opened and Deborah Mast walked in. “Wie geht’s,” she said with a cheery wave.

  “Good day to you,” Abby replied. “What can I help you with?”

  Deborah smiled and stepped up to the counter, casting a quick glance in her son’s direction. “Lester tells me you’re in need of a helper here.”

  Abby nodded. “Lena had to quit because she’s got the morning sickness real bad. She and my mamm seem to be going through the same struggles right now.”

  Lester cleared his throat. “Uh—guess I’d best be gettin’ back to work.” He gave Abby’s arm a gentle squeeze. “See you later.”

  “Have a good day,” she said.

  “And don’t work too hard,” Lester’s mamm called to him.

  When Deborah’s son waved and disappeared out the door, she stepped up to Abby. “I was pleased to hear that your mamm’s in a family way. She must be real hallich.”

  “Jah, she’s happy as a springtime robin, and so is the rest of the family.”

  “I guess Lena must be excited about her pregnancy, too, since she and Harold have no kinner yet.” Deborah leaned on the counter. “Speaking of Lena. . . Since you haven’t found a replacement for her, I was wondering if you’d want to hire me to take her place.”

  Abby’s lips curved into a smile. “I know you often come by to help the ladies work on a quilt once a week, but I didn’t think to ask if you’d consider coming to work here.”

  “I would be happy to, if you think I’d be useful.”

  “Of course, you’re a wonderful quilter.”

  Deborah grunted. “That doesn’t mean I’ve got a head for business.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’re friendly and outgoing, and that’s what matters most when it comes to waiting on customers.”

  “Since I’ve been widowed these last two years and all my kinner but Lester are out on their own, I’ve got time on my hands.” Deborah smiled. “How soon would you like me to start work?”

  “How about right now?”

  “That sounds good to me.” Lester’s mother made a sweeping gesture. “Where do you want me to begin?”

  Abraham wiped the sweat from his forehead using a damp rag he’d left hanging on the pump behind the house. He and the boys had worked hard in the fields all morning, and he was more than ready for their noon meal.

  “Sure hope Nancy and Fannie have lunch on the table,” Jake commented. “I’m hungry enough to eat an old mule.”

  “Jah, me, too,” Matthew agreed.

  Abraham stood off to one side, watching two of his sons as they took turns washing up. Norman had gone to his own place for lunch, saying he wanted to spend a few minutes with his wife. Abraham knew about that “in love” feeling; he’d been blessed with it twice. Even now, after being with Fannie four years, he felt like a lovesick schoolboy whenever she smiled at him in a certain way or said something to make him feel special.

  “Hey, watch what you’re doin’, Jake!” Matthew’s usual calm voice rose a notch, driving Abraham’s musings to the back of his mind.

  Jake grunted. “I’m washin’ up; what do you expect?”

  “I expect you to keep the soap and water on yourself, not on me.”

  Abraham shook his head. It was hard to believe Matthew was almost twenty-six years old and Jake had recently turned twenty, since they both were acting like a couple of schoolboys. “You two had better knock it off, or I’ll make you eat in the barn.”

  Matthew grunted. “That’d be a good place for Jake, since he already smells like one of the sweaty horses.”

  Jake wrinkled his nose and slapped the wet rag against Matthew’s arm. “You don’t smell like no rose garden yourself. No wonder ya can’t find a wife.”

  Matthew’s ears turned crimson, but he made no reply.

  “I think the real reason you’re not married is ’cause you’re scared,” Jake taunted.

  Matthew flicked some water in his brother’s direction. “Let’s drop the subject, okay?”

  “I agree.” Abraham nodded toward the house. “We’d best not keep the women waitin’. I’m sure they have lunch on the table by now.”

  “First one to the house gets two helpings of dessert!” Jake hollered as he took off on a run.

  Matthew shook his head. “I wonder if he’ll ever grow up.”

  Abraham thumped his eldest son on the back. “Why don’t you try to set him a better example?”

  “Humph! A lot of good that would do.”

  Abraham wondered if something was eating at Matthew, but he figured in time his boy would come to grips with whatever it was, so he said nothing as he strode toward the house.

  Fannie placed a platter of ham on the table and yawned. She’d been unable to go to the quilt shop this morning because of her queasy stomach, and even though her nausea had subsided some, she felt too tired to do much of anything. All she really wanted to do was get the men fed, then collapse on the sofa awhile.

  “Want me to ring the dinner bell again?” Nancy asked as she headed to the refrigerator to fetch a jar of pickles.

  “I think I hear our menfolk comin’ now,” Fannie replied.

  Sure enough, the thump, thump of men’s boots could be heard on the back steps. A few seconds later, Abraham, Matthew, and Jake entered the room.

  Fannie nodded at the table. “Everything’s ready, so take a chair and eat yourselves full.”

  Abraham gave her a peck on the cheek and then pulled out his chair at the head of the table. Once everyone was seated, he bowed his head for silent prayer, and the others did the same.

  Fannie folded her hands in her lap, and when the prayer was over, she stared at the food set before her. There were thick slices of the ham she had carved earlier, a heaping bowl of macaroni salad, deviled eggs, tangy pickled beets, dilled pickles, and a basket of fresh homemade bread for
sandwiches. None of it appealed, but for the sake of the baby she carried, she knew she must eat.

  “You okay, Fannie?” Abraham asked with a look of concern.

  She forced a smile and nodded. “Fine and dandy.”

  “You look awfully mied. Are you still feelin’ sick to your stomach?”

  “Just in the mornings now, but you’re right, I am a bit tired.”

  Abraham glanced over at Nancy, who sat beside Fannie. “After lunch, I want you to clear away the dishes and clean up the kitchen while my wife takes a nap.”

  Nancy nodded. “Okay, Papa.”

  “I take it you’re not goin’ to the quilt shop this afternoon,” Matthew said around a mouthful of macaroni salad.

  “Guess I’d better not,” Fannie replied.

  “I’m thinkin’ we might need to close down the shop or find someone else to run it for a time,” Abraham said.

  Fannie sighed. It would be a shame to close the quilt shop. There were many women in the area who made quilts and sold them in her store. And what of the tourists who liked to shop there?

  “Naomi’s not up to working at the store and minding the quilt shop, as well,” Abraham went on to say. “She’s got her hands full taking care of little Sarah, not to mention her being in a family way again. Once her boppli’s born, she won’t be able to work at the store for a while, either.”

  “If you didn’t need me in the fields, I’d be happy to work at the store while Naomi takes over Fannie’s quilt shop,” Matthew said.

  Jake spoke up for the first time since they’d begun the meal. “Yeah, right. I can see my big brother tradin’ in his plow for a broom and sittin’ behind a cash register all day instead of workin’ the mules out in the fields.”

  “It would be a sight better than puttin’ up with the likes of you,” Matthew shot back.

  Abraham held up his hand. “Don’t start scrappin’ again. I’ve already had enough of it today, and I’m sure the womenfolk aren’t in the mood to hear it, either.”

  “Maybe I’ll pay Edna a visit this afternoon,” Fannie said, taking their conversation in another direction.

 

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