The Quilter's Daughter

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Give him time, a voice in her head seemed to say. Pray for your husband and set a good example.

  She swallowed around the constriction in her throat. I’ll try, Lord, but I’m going to need Your help.

  Abby placed a plastic tub filled with warm water on the kitchen table. It was time for the babies’ baths. First she would give Titus his bath, and then Mom would dress him while she washed Timothy. While Abby dressed that baby, Mom would feed Titus. The routine seemed easy enough, but both boys were howling in their cradles across the room. Mom had gone upstairs to change clothes, because she’d spilled a glass of goat’s milk all over the front of her dress, leaving Abby alone to begin the twins’ baths. The only problem was, she couldn’t decide which infant to bathe first.

  She leaned down and scooped Titus into her arms. At least she thought it was Titus. Abraham had removed their wristbands last night, saying he thought they might become too tight as the babies continued to grow. He’d also said he could tell the boys apart, pointing out the fact that Timothy’s right eye was slightly smaller than his left eye, while Titus’s looked to be about the same size.

  Abby squinted at the twins, still kicking their feet and waving their arms like a windmill. To her, it looked like both boys’ eyes were the same size. She picked Titus up, and his crying abated, but as soon as she placed him on the oversized towel she had spread on the table and began to remove his sleepers, the howling began again. To make matters worse, the other twin was still crying, too.

  “I hope your mamm comes downstairs soon,” Abby crooned. She hurried through the bathing process, anxious to get Titus back in his cradle so she could wash Timothy. She had no sooner carried baby number one across the room than a knock sounded at the back door.

  Abby placed Titus in his cradle and hurried to answer the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to see Cousin Edna on the porch, looking thinner than ever. The last thing she’d heard was that Edna had the achy-bones flu and wouldn’t be coming over this week. From the looks of the dark circles that rimmed her pale blue eyes, she figured the woman should be home in bed.

  Abby glanced over her shoulder at the wailing babies. She knew it would be rude not to invite Edna in, but she didn’t want to chance the twins getting sick if Edna was still contagious. “Um. . .we didn’t expect you this week.”

  Edna pushed the door fully open and strolled past Abby. “I’m feeling some better, so I thought I’d come by and see if you needed any help today.”

  “I think Mom and I can manage on our own all week. Mary Ann’s here, too. She’s gone out to the chicken coop to check for eggs.”

  “The bopplin are crying.” Edna started across the room. “How come they’re howlin’ like that? Do they need to be fed or have their windels changed?”

  “I just gave Titus a bath, so he has clean diapers,” Abby replied.

  “Even so, it never hurts to check. I remember when my twins were little. They went through so many diapers every day, and it seemed like all I did was wash baby clothes.” Edna moved closer to the twins, but Mom’s shrill voice stopped her as she stepped into the room.

  “What are you doin’ here, Cousin?”

  Edna whirled around. “Came over to help. What do ya think?”

  Mom clucked her tongue. “I think you look tired and pale, and I’ll not have my favorite cousin havin’ a relapse on my account.” She brushed past Abby and took hold of Edna’s bony arm. “Now you get on back home where you can rest. I insist.”

  Abby held her breath and waited to see what would happen next. To her amazement, Edna nodded and headed for the back door. “You’re right, Fannie. I do feel a bit weak and shaky yet. Probably would be best if I waited ’til next week to offer my assistance.”

  “Abby and I will manage, but I appreciate your comin’ by,” Mom said as she followed her cousin outside to the porch.

  Abby chuckled softly and moved over to the twins. She was surprised Mom had been able to convince Edna, who clearly had a mind of her own, to go home. She glanced over at the babies and was pleased to see that Titus had settled down and was sucking contentedly on his fist. Timothy, on the other hand, was still howling like there was no tomorrow. “There now, little guy. You’ll feel better once we get those dirty windels off and you’re all cleaned up.” She placed the baby in the center of the quilt, quickly undressed him, and was surprised to see that his diaper was clean and dry. “Guess you’re not as messy as your twin brother was this morning.”

  Abby had just finished bathing and dressing Timothy, when her mother returned to the kitchen. “That cousin of mine is such a character. She kept tellin’ one joke after the other, and I finally had to remind her that I was needed inside. Sure hope she doesn’t have a relapse by comin’ over here today.”

  Abby placed Timothy in his cradle, noting that Titus was fussing again. “I only hope she didn’t expose you or the twins to that flu bug she’s had.”

  “Since I’m nursing, that’s supposed to help the babies’ immune system. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Mom moved to Abby’s side. “Did you get them both bathed?”

  “Jah. Now I think they’d like to be fed.”

  Mom bent down and scooped Titus into her arms. “Eww. . .he feels wet. Didn’t you say you bathed and changed him already?”

  “I did, but—” A light suddenly dawned, and Abby broke into the giggles. “You know what, Mom?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think I may have bathed Titus twice. The boppli you’re holding is probably Timothy, and he’s most likely wet through his clothes because he hasn’t been bathed or changed at all.”

  Mom grinned and handed Abby the baby. “Guess you’d better see to that while I feed Titus.”

  “Good idea,” Abby agreed. “And afterwards, I believe we should put on our thinking caps and come up with some way to tell these two apart.”

  Jim gripped his paintbrush and swiped it across the wood siding of the house he’d been hired to paint.

  “Hey, Boss, you’d better watch what you’re doing,” Ed called from several feet away. “You’re sloppin’ paint all over the place this morning, and we’ll end up with a mess to clean up if you’re not careful.”

  “Let me worry about that,” Jim snapped.

  “Sorry, but you’ve been so testy lately, and it’s beginning to show in your work.”

  Jim gritted his teeth. “If you had to put up with my wife, you’d be testy, too.”

  Ed moved closer to Jim. “What’s the trouble?”

  “Linda flipped out a couple weeks ago and went religious on me. Even suggested the two of us start seeing her preacher for some Christian counseling.” Jim dipped his brush into the bucket and slapped another round of paint on the siding in front of him.

  “Why does she believe you need counseling?”

  “Guess she thinks if she gets me into that Bible-thumper’s office he’ll talk me into going to church with her and Jimmy.”

  “You got somethin’ against church?”

  Jim shrugged. “Not church per se, just the hypocrites who sit in the pews.”

  Ed flipped the end of his mustache. “Guess there’s hypocrites nearly everywhere.”

  “Are you saying I’m a hypocrite?”

  “I’m not saying that at all. I just think it’s easier to see other people’s faults than we do our own.”

  Jim let Ed’s words roll around in his head as he wondered if his own actions were really so bad. He tried to be honest and aboveboard in his business dealings. He was fair with his crew and paid each one what they were worth. He was a decent husband and father, even if Linda didn’t think so. He didn’t need church or some holier-than-thou preacher pointing out his sins.

  Of course, I have told a lot of lies over the last few years, and if I went to church or started counseling with the preacher, sooner or later he might drag the truth out of me about Jimmy’s phony adoption.

  Jim grimaced. He knew it had been wrong to kidnap Jimmy, but he’d convi
nced himself it was an act of love—done in Linda’s best interest. And look how she was thanking him for it!

  “Going to church would only make things worse,” he muttered.

  “What’s that, Boss?”

  “Nothing, Ed. I’ll be fine once we quit work for the day and I can stop somewhere for a couple of beers.”

  A knock at the front door drew Abby’s attention away from the quilt she was working on. The twins were asleep in their cradles on the other side of the living room, and Mom was upstairs taking a nap. Abby had decided to use this quiet time to get some quilting done.

  When Abby opened the door she was surprised to see nine-year-old Leona Weaver on the front porch. There was something unique about the young girl, and it was more than her luminous green eyes and matching dimples placed evenly on both cheeks. Leona had a quality about her—sweet, even-tempered, and spiritually mature for one so young. The child probably got it from her father, whom Abraham had said was not only a good friend, but was full of wisdom and godly counsel.

  “What brings you over here on this Saturday afternoon?” Abby asked the child. “Do your folks know you’re here?”

  “Papa’s out there, talking with Abraham about doin’ some painting on his barn.” Leona pointed across the yard.

  Abby squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun. Sure enough, there was Jacob Weaver’s buggy parked next to the barn.

  “I thought I’d have a look at the twins, if ya don’t mind,” Leona announced.

  Abby opened the door fully and bid the girl to enter. “They’re asleep in their cradles, but if we’re quiet, they’ll probably keep on sleeping.”

  “My little cousin Amos could sleep through most anything when he was a boppli,” Leona said.

  “Jah, most bopplin do, but for some reason the twins seem to be light sleepers.”

  Abby led Leona across the living room and stopped in front of the cradles. One twin had kicked his covering off, so she pulled it up under his chin. The days were getting colder now, and it wouldn’t do for the babe to take a chill.

  “They’re so schee,” Leona murmured.

  “They are quite pretty,” Abby agreed.

  “I can’t wait ’til I’m grown up and can get married and have some bopplin of my own.” The child grinned, and her dimples seemed to be winking at Abby.

  Abby thought about her upcoming wedding and how she’d felt compelled to postpone it in order to stay in Pennsylvania so she could care for Mom and the twins. Lester hadn’t been happy about moving the wedding date to January, but after a few letters of encouragement, he’d finally agreed.

  Abby motioned to the sofa. “Would you like to sit and visit until your daed’s done talking to Abraham?”

  Leona nodded and followed Abby across the room. They sat next to each other on the sofa, and Abby picked up her quilting squares again.

  “Titus and Timothy look so much alike,” Leona said. “How do you ever tell ’em apart?”

  Abby chuckled. “That has been kind of tricky. I thought I had the problem solved when I tied a blue ribbon around Titus’s ankle. That worked fine until I bathed him once and forgot to remove the ribbon.”

  “What happened?”

  “The ribbon became soggy and fell off. By the time I got the boppli dried and dressed again, a ruckus broke out in the yard between Samuel’s dog and Mary Ann’s cat. So I placed Titus back in his cradle and went outside to see about it.”

  Leona covered her mouth with the palm of her hand and giggled. “Don’t tell me—when you came back inside, you thought Titus was Timothy. Am I right?”

  Abby nodded. “That’s exactly what happened, only this time I figured it out before I gave the same baby a bath.”

  “You mean that’s happened before?”

  Abby told Leona the story about her bathing the same baby twice and how this time, she’d discovered Timothy’s dirty diaper right away and realized it was he and not Titus. “It’s been a job for Mom and me to keep the boys straight, but Abraham thinks we’re silly.”

  Leona’s eyebrows lifted. “Why’s that?”

  “He says Titus has one eye slightly larger than Timothy’s, so he always seems to know which twin he’s holding.” Abby shrugged. “I’ve never noticed much of a difference in the shape of their eyes, but I wish there were something I could do to identify one from the other without it washing off in the bath water.”

  Leona smiled. “I know what you could do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why not take some waterproof paint and make a dot on one twin’s toe? Since Papa’s a painter, he uses paint to mark lots of things.”

  Abby reached for the child’s hand. “Leona Weaver, you’re one smart girl. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t grow up to be a schoolteacher someday.”

  Leona’s eyes brightened. “You really think so?”

  “Might could be. None of us knows what the future holds.”

  “The weather’s been dry, so I think my paint crew can start workin’ here sometime next week,” Jacob Weaver said as he studied Abraham’s barn.

  “Sounds good to me,” Abraham replied. “It’s been too many years since the barn’s had a new coat of paint, and as you can see, it’s peelin’ and chippin’ all over the place. I should have had you do it much sooner, but I kept puttin’ it off.”

  Jacob stroked his long, full beard, which was beginning to show a few signs of gray. “What color are you thinkin’? Want it to be white again?”

  Abraham nodded.

  “White it is then.” Jacob lowered himself to a bale of straw sitting in front of the barn. “Mind if I sit a spell? We haven’t had ourselves a little chat in some time.”

  “You’re right about that,” Abraham agreed, and he also took a seat. “Between me and the older boys tryin’ to get the harvest done, and you and your son havin’ so many paint jobs, we rarely see each other except on preaching Sundays.”

  “I imagine you’re kept busy with those zwilling of yours, too,” Jacob commented.

  Abraham grinned. Just thinking about his identical twin boys brought a smile to his face. “The truth is, Abby and Fannie do most of the work. I mostly get to hold and cuddle my sons, but that’s fine by me.”

  “Sure is a miracle the way God gave you those boys.”

  “Jah. It’s like He took one son and gave me two.”

  Jacob frowned, and his bushy eyebrows drew together. “I wouldn’t say God took Zach away, my friend. It’s more likely He allowed free will to be done.”

  “That’s what I meant to say.” Abraham decided it was time for a change of subject. Otherwise, Jacob would end up giving him a full-fledged sermon. “When you first showed up, I saw your daughter go into the house. I’ll bet she wanted to see Titus and Timothy.”

  “Leona loves bopplin and is real good with ’em. She’ll make a fine mamm someday, I expect.”

  “She sure has a good-natured disposition. Kind of reminds me of Abby, who’s always so agreeable.”

  Jacob gave his earlobe a couple of pulls. “I’ve never told ya this before, but I used to hope my Leona and your Zach would end up marrying each other some day.”

  Abraham stiffened. Jacob’s comment was a painful reminder that he had not only been cheated out of seeing his son grow up, but would never know if Zach got married or to whom.

  “Even if my boy hadn’t been snatched away, it ain’t likely our two would have ever gotten married,” he mumbled.

  “Why not?”

  “Leona’s almost three years older than Zach.”

  “Humph! Who worries about a little thing like that?” Jacob stood and arched his back. “I hear tell our bishop’s five years younger than his second wife.”

  “Really? Didn’t know that.” Abraham shrugged as he also stood.

  Jacob yawned. “Guess I should round up my daughter and get on home. I’ve got some paintin’ of my own that the wife’s been after me to do for some time.”

  Abraham chortled. “Isn’t
that the way? Seems like the last thing on our list of things to get done is usually at the top of the list our wives are keepin’.”

  “That’s how it goes once a body’s been married awhile.” Jacob patted Abraham on the back. “Before I go, mind if I take a look at those growin’ boys of yours?”

  Abraham clasped his friend’s arm as they began walking toward the house. “Don’t mind at all. Fact is, I’d be pleased to show ’em to you.”

  Jacob halted, and Abraham almost ran into him. “Oh, I nearly forgot. I stopped by the general store yesterday afternoon and spoke with Caleb.”

  “How are things going there? Are he and Matthew managing okay?”

  Jacob’s expression turned serious, and for a moment Abraham was afraid he was about to receive news that his old business was failing.

  “Caleb’s concerned for Naomi and asked me to pray about things.”

  “What’s wrong with Naomi? Is she sick?”

  Jacob shook his head. “She’s not sick, just seems kind of depressed.” He paused and slid his tongue across his top teeth. “I hesitate to say anything, but I think you have the right to know.”

  “Know what? If there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me, then please do so.”

  “Well, Caleb thinks Naomi’s hurt because you show the zwilling so much attention.”

  Abraham’s mouth fell open. “What? They’re my twin boys. Why wouldn’t I give ’em lots of attention?”

  Jacob cleared his throat a couple of times. “It’s fine to love on your little ones, Abraham, but Naomi’s concerned you may have forgotten about Zach and believes the twins have replaced him in your heart.”

  Abraham clapped his hands together. “That’s lecherich! I’ll never forget Zach.”

  “It may seem ridiculous to you, but Naomi’s hurtin’ just the same. I think she feels you haven’t shown her daughters much attention, either.”

  Abraham felt a sense of irritation well up in his soul, but as he mulled things over, he realized he might have been remiss in showing enough love to his granddaughters. He supposed he could have said or done a few things to make Naomi think he cared more about Titus and Timothy than he did Zach, too.