Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles]

by Shadow on the Quilt

  For the next few moments, it felt to Juliana like half the population in Lincoln had to be thanked for something. Just as the crowd began to grow restive, Helen said, “And now”—she motioned for Juliana and the aunts to stand up—”I have the honor to present Mrs. Sterling Sutton, Miss Theodora Sutton, and Miss Lydia Sutton.” They all rose.

  “You know these ladies. You know of the recent tragedy that has befallen them. What you do not know is that they have risen above that tragedy in a way that puts the Society of the Home for the Friendless—and the city of Lincoln—forever in their debt.” She paused and cleared her throat.

  “We have two wonderful announcements to make this evening. First of all, we announce the establishment of the Sterling Sutton Educational Foundation, which will be dedicated to providing an education to the children in the care of the Home for the Friendless.”

  As warm applause sounded, Juliana and the aunts exchanged glances and sat down.

  Helen continued. “But that is only the beginning of the Sutton ladies’ generosity.” She indicated the model. “Many of us are aware of the lovely home that was rising to the south of Lincoln when Mr. Sutton’s life was tragically cut short.” Helen looked over at Juliana and the aunts, then back at the crowd. “It is my great honor to announce that that building has been donated to the society and is to be finished as a residence that will be opened to those less fortunate in our city.” Motioning to Juliana to help her come and remove the sheet, Helen said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Friendship Home.”

  Juliana and Helen removed the sheet. The crowd was silent for a moment, and then someone shouted, “Bravo!” and the applause began. And continued. Folding the sheet over her arm, Juliana hurried back to stand with the aunts. The applause continued. They swiped at tears. Still, the applause continued.

  Finally, Helen called for quiet. “Now, we are going to give you that promised last chance to clear the tables of any remaining sustenance. We encourage you to please inspect this wonderful scale model of the future Friendship Home. Let it encourage your enthusiasm for the live auction, which will begin in ten minutes.”

  It was the longest ten minutes of Juliana’s life. She really didn’t want to be thanked by every single person in attendance, but as people filed by the model, they just naturally ended up coming to where she and the aunts were seated, and in no time there was an informal reception line. Finally, Juliana realized something. This was healing, too. Hearing Aunt Theodora praise “the dear boy,” hearing people say nice things about Sterling was just that. It was nice. He had done nice things in the city. His sins didn’t erase that, but as Juliana looked past the people in line to see the model, she felt the raw edge of her pain heal a bit.

  Finally, everyone was back beneath the tent. She glanced over to where Cass still stood behind the dessert table, wielding a server and talking to Alfred and a couple of the deacons from the A.M.E. church as he piled their plates high with cake and pie. When the quilt came up for auction, Cass kept his promise to bid, although no one had a chance with Helen Duncan prodding George to go higher and higher all the way up to the unbelievable final bid of nearly two hundred dollars. It was the climax of the auction and one that earned a fresh round of applause from the crowd.

  As soon as Pastor Taylor offered the benediction, Juliana and the committee went to work helping pack up the leftover food. Lutie Gleason’s husband drove an exhausted Aunt Theodora and Aunt Lydia home. Eventually, the crowd thinned out, and the only people left were volunteers helping with cleanup.

  Juliana finally took the last swipe at the last crumb-littered table and stood back. “All right, gentlemen, take it away.” Cass Gregory and Jess Jessup turned the table on its side and headed down the narrow stairs into the church basement with it. Across the way, Alfred and his deacons loaded the last of the borrowed chairs into the back of a wagon and headed off.

  Everyone was working in half-light, as the sun set and the moon rose. Juliana stooped to pick up a program someone had dropped on the grass, then headed back behind the church to add it to the burning barrel being tended by—

  “Pastor Taylor?”

  He peered around the column of smoke. “Don’t act so surprised. I can tend a fire as well as the next man.”

  Juliana laughed. “Obviously. It’s just not something one generally sees a minister doing.”

  “You must be exhausted,” he said.

  “I haven’t let myself think about it. As long as I keep moving, I’ll be fine.” When she saw that Cass and Jessup were making their way toward the church steps to return the borrowed pulpit, Juliana excused herself and hurried ahead of the men and up the steps to hold the door open for them. Once they were inside, she retreated to the tent and stepped up on the stage to fetch the flower arrangement Frey’s had donated for the event and take it inside. Helen had delivered the other one to First Church, since many of the committee attended there. Now, Juliana headed inside to put this one in position in front of the pulpit for the Sabbath service only hours away. Jessup and Cass were just descending the stairs as she headed inside.

  “Can I carry that for you?” Cass asked.

  “It isn’t heavy,” she said. “Just awkward.”

  “Then let me hold the door.”

  Juliana stepped inside. As she crossed the vestibule, she heard Cass tell Jessup to pull the wagon up alongside the tent so they could start taking the platform down. Then he hurried past her, just as she reached the inner doors.

  “Don’t let me be the reason you end up taking that platform apart in the dark.”

  “It won’t take that long,” he said and followed her up the aisle. “Let me situate it, and you stand back and make sure it’s where you want it.”

  She handed the arrangement over and stood back while he put the flowers in place.

  “To the left a little. There. That’s perfect.”

  “Good.” He nodded and they turned to go.

  She touched his sleeve as he passed by. “Cass. I—” She allowed a nervous laugh. “First of all I should probably ask if you mind my calling you Cass.”

  He smiled down at her. “It’s my name.”

  She blushed. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Sutton. I do. And no, ma’am. I don’t mind. You’re my boss. You can call me whatever you like.” He laughed softly. “Although I’m counting on it not being anything profane.”

  “Well you’re in luck. I only use profanity with Tecumseh. And he’s promised not to tattle.”

  “Are you certain he can be trusted?”

  She laughed. “Thank you for working so hard on that model. I can’t imagine how many hours you must have spent on it.”

  “I had help.”

  “I heard.” She smiled up at him. “From what people were saying today about your mother and sister’s cooking, they’re both going to be very busy in coming weeks.”

  “So are you and the others. Tonight was quite the success. Things are only getting started for Friendship Home.”

  Juliana nodded. “Don’t I know it. It’ll take a week just to write all the thank-you notes.”

  “Do you still want the model on your dining room table?”

  “More than ever.”

  “Let me know when.”

  She thought for a moment. “How about tomorrow? If you come right after church, we’ll pay you with lunch. Although I have to warn you that Martha doesn’t cook on Sundays, and I’m no Margaret Nash. But you won’t starve.”

  He smiled. “I’ll eat a big breakfast just in case.”

  They descended the front steps together. Pastor Taylor had left the burning barrel to die out and was helping Jessup disassemble the platform. Cass turned back to Juliana. “Unless you intend to wield a wrench or a screwdriver, I’m thinking you can finally head home.”

  “I believe I’ll put off learning carpentry until a day when I’m not so tired.”

  Cass walked with her to the buggy and offered his hand to help her climb up to the
driver’s seat. Was it her imagination or did he hold on for a fraction of a second longer than necessary?

  She didn’t mind. In fact, she took her time about pulling away. So much so that Fancy snorted with impatience. “You just hold your horses, young lady,” Juliana said.

  As she pulled on her driving gloves and tied her black bonnet in place, the phrase came back to haunt her. Hold your horses. Good advice for a widow.

  Daily State Journal

  June 18, 1883

  The ladies of the Society of the Home for the Friendless are to be congratulated on the great success of one of the most well-organized and enjoyable events presented to the citizens of Lincoln in recent memory. Participants were treated to delectable baked goods throughout the day and a fine evening supper, which fueled great enthusiasm in the bidding for an impressive array of donated items made available through silent auction.

  The committee will undoubtedly thank each of the donors in coming days, but this paper wishes to commend all who united to support such a worthy cause as what will soon be gathered together under one roof thanks to the generosity of Mrs. Sterling Sutton. Those present at the unveiling of the model of the proposed Friendship Home will likely never forget the admiring murmurs that flowed through the crowd as the donation of property just south of the city was announced.

  Enthusiastic bidders made for a spirited live auction and took bids to heights that both astonished and delighted the crowd gathered beneath and around the tent. Congratulations are also in order to Mr. George Duncan, winner of the signature quilt, who generously bid over two hundred dollars for the privilege of owning the autographs of distinguished citizens including President Chester A. Arthur. The evening closed with a benediction offered by Pastor James Taylor.

  Bravo, ladies. Well done. We applaud you.

  CHAPTER 20

  He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much.

  Luke 16:10

  Jenny

  Friday, June 22

  Jenny was changing Johnny’s diaper when Mrs. Crutchfield appeared just outside the bedroom door that had been cut in half to allow people to see in, while still keeping the babies safely contained.

  “Mrs. Duncan’s in the parlor, asking to see you.”

  Jenny finished pinning the diaper. Johnny rolled over and pushed himself to a sitting position, smiling and clapping while he looked up at his mother. She didn’t move to get up off the floor. “Do I have to see her?”

  “‘Course not, Princess. I’ll tell her Her Highness is busy.” The older woman grimaced as she leaned across and hissed, “Get yourself up off that floor. She’s the president of the board that pays for your keep. She asks to see you; you see her.”

  “But”—Jenny gestured around at the four babies that Mrs. Crutchfield had assigned to her care—”I can’t just leave them.”

  “Of course you can. Where they gonna go? There’s nothing in here to hurt ’em.” She motioned for Jenny to get up. “And don’t ask me to stay in here. You know I’ve got my report to finish before Mrs. Duncan leaves.”

  Bracing her palms on the cot she’d been leaning against, Jenny stood.

  “You look a wreck,” Crutchfield said. “Think maybe you could use a comb once in a while?” She opened the door and waved Jenny into the hall.

  Johnny let out a protest and tried to follow.

  “Mama will be right back, little man.”

  Johnny began to wail as Jenny hurried down the stairs and into the parlor where Mrs. Duncan was waiting.

  “Is that Johnny crying?”

  Jenny nodded.

  “He’s all right,” Mrs. Crutchfield said. “There’s nothing can hurt him and nothing he can hurt.”

  Mrs. Duncan smiled. “I don’t doubt it, but from the sound of things, he doesn’t think he’s all right.” She put her hand on the newel post at the base of the stairs and waved for Jenny to lead the way back up.

  Jenny obeyed, already dreading the foul mood this would put Mrs. Crutchfield in. The dread faded a bit when she opened the door to the nursery and Johnny cackled with joy. Mrs. Duncan followed her in, looking about her at the cribs and the three other babies. “I thought Mr. Duncan said there would be two other young women your age in residence.”

  Jenny shrugged. “It’s just me.”

  “Are you happy here?”

  Was she making a joke? If Jenny complained, wouldn’t they make her leave? Mrs. Crutchfield had hinted that they might. There were two Mrs. Crutchfields—the one who greeted the women who supported the society and gave her monthly report to the committee, and the one who lived here the rest of the time. Jenny wondered at the stupidity of the rich women who didn’t realize that.

  “I mean—I realize this isn’t what you wanted….” Her voice trailed off. Her face flushed as if she was embarrassed. She nodded at the other children in the room. “Tell me their names.”

  “That’s Miller.” Jenny pointed to the towheaded, blue-eyed child who had just pulled himself up to stand at the cot next to Mrs. Duncan. “The one under the bed there is Huldah. I used to pull her out, but she doesn’t like it. She seems to like it under there. She had purple marks on her legs when she first came. I think maybe she’s getting less afraid. She smiled at me yesterday.” She wrapped one arm around the little boy who’d just toddled over to her. “This is Emil. I’ve been trying to get him to stop sucking his thumb. Mrs. Crutchfield put some nasty-tasting stuff on it to help with that, but it didn’t work.”

  “You seem to know them pretty well.”

  Jenny shrugged. “Can’t hardly help it. Been taking care of them nearly three weeks, now.”

  Mrs. Duncan drew in a deep breath. “I want to tell your uncle you’re here.”

  “Why? He doesn’t care. He made me leave. Sterling’s the one who took care of me. We were going—” She broke off. In recent days it had occurred to her that maybe Sterling hadn’t really planned to leave his wife. He’d never said anything bad about Mrs. Sutton. In fact, he’d never mentioned her except to say that they couldn’t have children and that made Johnny even more special to him.

  “What if I don’t tell him where you are, but just tell him that you have a son? If he’s inclined to help, then we would decide what to do next.” She leaned forward. “People sometimes change their minds, Jenny. After the shock wears off.”

  Jenny studied the older woman’s face for a moment before asking, “Why do you care?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. But I can’t seem to get you off my mind.” She picked Miller up and set him on her knee. “Did you hear about the fund-raiser?”

  “Mrs. Crutchfield told me about it. Sterling’s wife is building a new place. They’re calling it Friendship Home. Crutchfield’s worried about it.” She’d also been unusually ill-tempered since reading the article in the newspaper, but Jenny didn’t think she should mention that to Mrs. Duncan. There was no point in complaining.

  “My husband bought a beautiful quilt for me at the auction. It has the president’s name on it.” Mrs. Duncan cleared her throat. “I put it in the guest bedroom. One night when I couldn’t sleep, I started reading the names.”

  “I signed that quilt. Did you find my name?”

  Mrs. Duncan didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “It reminds me of you and Johnny every time I see it.” She took a deep breath. “It also reminds me of something I want to change about myself. I go to church every Sunday, but I’ve never really thought about how kind Jesus was to women in trouble. And that maybe He expected me to be His hands.” Her voice wavered. “I really do want to help you if I can.”

  Jenny ducked her head to hide her tears. “I don’t know what to do. Even if I was strong enough to work, there’s no store going to hire a girl with a baby. And even if they did, I’ve no one to take care of Johnny while I work. I don’t know how to sew well enough to take in mending, and I’m not strong enough to take in laundry. I don’t like living on charity, but what else am I going to do?”

&nb
sp; “Perhaps you could be a nanny for someone who would let you care for their child and Johnny at the same time.”

  “No one rich enough to pay for a nanny wants a girl who got in trouble around their husband.”

  “Let me talk to your uncle.”

  “I don’t guess I can stop you, can I?” Part of her wanted to hope. Maybe if Mrs. Duncan talked to him, maybe things would be different.

  Mrs. Duncan gave Miller a hug and set him back down as she stood up. “Don’t give up hope, Jenny. Let me see what I can do.” She said good-bye.

  Jenny listened to her footsteps descending the stairs, chatting with the nice Mrs. Crutchfield. Then they were both gone.

  From the moment Cass delivered the model to Juliana’s on the Sunday after the bazaar, she felt like a cloud had lifted. The committee continued to meet at her home on a weekly basis, reporting on new donations and writing thank-you notes to generous supporters.

  On most days, her daily ride took her to the job site rather than the cemetery. Some days she dismounted only long enough to get a drink of water from the well behind the stone cottage, and yet, before long, she knew each of the two dozen workers by name.

  As time went on, she began to take an interest in their families. The day Elmo Klein missed work and Cass said the Kleins’ child was ill, Juliana asked Dr. Gilbert to make a call. When Jess Jessup mentioned that his daughter was hoping to apprentice as a seamstress, Juliana asked Miss Thornhill about what a girl had to know to interview for a beginning position at the dresser’s.

  The next week when she sought out Jessup to tell him what she’d learned, she caught Cass looking at her with an odd expression on his face. Thinking he was upset because she’d interrupted Jessup at work, she went into the stone cottage to talk with him. “I should have spoken with Mr. Jessup another time,” she said. “I’m sorry I took him away from his work. It won’t happen again.”