“I feel fine.”
“Of course you do,” Evelyn said. “You’re glowing! We’re so happy for you,” she said, giving me a hug. “My only regret is that your time in New Bern will be up before the baby is born. Promise you’ll come back for a visit and bring the baby. You can stay with us.”
“It’s a promise.”
Margot was next, and she nearly squeezed the breath out of me. “Oh, just wait until I tell the Ladies in Waiting! They had all kinds of crazy theories about why you were taking a baby quilt class. Natalie said … Well, it doesn’t matter. They were all wrong, weren’t they?”
Paul worked his way through the crowd, wedging himself into a spot directly behind Margot. “Congratulations, Philippa. Let me know if you need help with anything.”
“You’re already helping with the youth group,” I said, glancing from his face to Margot’s. “That’s huge. I really appreciate you both.”
“Well,” Paul said, smiling at Margot, “we make a pretty good team. Say … uh, Margot, would you like to go get a cup of coffee? We could work out the activity calendar for next month.”
“Thanks, but I can’t. I’m going over to the Grill with Charlie and Evelyn.”
Charlie looked at Evelyn with an expression that said this was clearly news to him. Evelyn, her face giving away nothing, moved her elbow to apply a gentle pressure to her husband’s rib cage, warning him to keep silent.
“Another time,” Margot said.
“Oh, sure. Another time.” Paul gave me a halfhearted smile before heading out the door. Poor guy. I wished Margot would give him a chance. Maybe I should talk to her about him? No. It was none of my business. I’d already gotten myself in too deep.
Saying they’d see me at the quilt shop, Evelyn, Virginia, and Margot left with Charlie, who was telling them about the restaurant’s special offering for the day, black cod in a miso marinade. As the crowd began to thin out, I stood chatting with Wendy Perkins, who was quizzing me about my vitamin and calcium intake. Ted came by with Miranda.
“That was a wonderful sermon, Philippa. Just wonderful.”
“Thank you, Ted. But it wasn’t a sermon. It was just … telling my story.”
“Well, whatever it was, it was very moving. I don’t know what Bob Tucker told you to do, but whatever it is, keep doing it. You’re turning out to be a fine preacher.”
Miranda smiled and laid her hand gently on Ted’s forearm. He moved his arm so it looped through hers, pulling her closer.
“We’re just headed over to the Grill on the Green for a late supper, but I’ll talk to you soon, Philippa. Congratulations again. This is wonderful news.”
They walked down the aisle toward the door. Wendy watched them go.
“Well, isn’t that nice? They’re perfect for each other. Ted’s the sort of man who needs a woman who’ll get him to do the right thing, but always leave him thinking it was all his idea. I knew his late wife. She was just the same, and she and Ted were very happy. Now that they’ve worked things out, I’m sure Miranda and Ted will be too.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Wendy said with a wink. “So? How did your parents react to the news? Bet they were just over the moon when you told them they’re going to have a grandchild.”
“Oh. Well, of course they would be,” I said cheerfully and then glanced at my watch. “Wendy, would you excuse me? I just remembered something.”
By the time I got home and climbed into bed with Clementine sprawled out at the foot of the bed, it was a little past ten. I dialed my parents’ number in Boston.
“Parsonage.”
“Mom? It’s Pippa. Is Dad there?”
“Yes, honey, but he’s asleep. Why? Is something wrong?” I smiled. That was so Mom. I used to think it was silly, the way she worried about me as though I were still in grade school, but just then, I thought it was sweet. And I was sure that once my child was born, I would be just the same.
I snuggled down under the covers, drew my knees up so the little bump was a little bit bumpier, and laid my free hand on the mound. “Well, wake him up and ask him to get on the extension. There’s something I want to tell you.”
48
Margot
“This is good,” Virginia said, sounding surprised.
Charlie was standing next to our table, looking pleased with himself. “What did I tell you? Would I steer my own mother-in-law wrong? Try the rice.”
“This black stuff?” Virginia poked at it with her fork. “I thought it was burned.”
“Try it,” Evelyn urged. “It’s forbidden rice. In China, only the emperor was allowed to eat it. It’s Charlie’s latest crush.”
Charlie bent down and gave her a kiss. “You’re the only crush I have, woman.”
She squeezed his hand. “Honey, why don’t you sit down and relax?”
“I’ve got to go fix the espresso machine. But I’ll join you for dessert.”
He kissed her again and headed back to the kitchen, stopping briefly at Ted and Miranda’s table to check on them, though he needn’t have bothered. From the way they were looking at each other, it was obvious that they were having a lovely time.
“Tastes like plain old rice to me,” Virginia mumbled. “Maybe a little chewier. Are you sure it’s not burned?”
“It’s supposed to be that way,” Evelyn said absently, glancing toward Ted and Miranda’s table. “Looks like Miranda decided to give him another chance. What about you and Paul? Why didn’t you go have coffee with him? He’s obviously crazy about you.”
“He is not,” I said irritably as I cut a piece of roast chicken. “And, anyway, I wanted to spend the evening with you two.”
“You see us every day,” Evelyn observed.
I quickly popped a piece of chicken in my mouth so I wouldn’t have to respond. There was no point in telling Evelyn that I didn’t want to have coffee with Paul because I liked him too much. I was not going to allow myself to be distracted again. He might not be seeing Philippa, but on the other hand, he might. Just because she was carrying her deceased husband’s child didn’t mean she and Paul didn’t have feelings for each other. I’d seen his face earlier, when we were talking about the meeting, and he said he’d promised Philippa he’d be there. It was the face of a man in love.
Evelyn gave me a sideways glance. “You know what your problem is? You’re afraid to be happy.”
I swallowed my chicken. “I’ve got an idea,” I said in a deliberately cheerful tone. “Let’s talk about something else. We should have a baby shower.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Virginia said as she pushed her rice to the far side of her plate. “Why don’t I call the Ladies in Waiting and tell them we’re having a surprise shower for Philippa? I’ll bake a cake.”
“And I’ll ask Charlie to provide a few appetizers,” Evelyn said. “He’ll be all over that.”
49
Philippa
“This is darling!” I pushed the tissue paper aside and pulled out a quilted diaper bag with elasticized pockets and a long shoulder strap. The fabric had a yellow background with quarter-sized dots of sage blue surrounded by wreaths of tiny green leaves.
“You made it yourself? How did you have time?”
“It’s easier than it looks. Open it up,” Evelyn urged.
Inside the bag I found all kinds of presents for the baby—bottles, pacifiers, a changing pad, teething ring, baby wipes, baby powder, tiny T-shirts, and socks, as well as a present for me, an envelope containing a fifty-dollar gift card to the quilt shop. “Oh, Evelyn! How generous. Thank you so much.”
She smiled, pleased that I was so pleased. “Now that you’re a quilter, you’ve got to start building up your stash. This will give you a start. I just wish you could keep quilting here at Cobbled Court. Are you sure we can’t talk you into staying?”
“Wish I could. But after Reverend Tucker comes back from his sabbatical, I’ll have to head back to Boston to stay with my par
ents until the baby is born. And then I’m going to have to start looking for another job. Hopefully, another pulpit.”
Abigail Spaulding frowned. Since she spends winters in Bermuda, we had met only recently, but she decided to come to my impromptu baby shower anyway, along with Wendy Perkins, Tessa Woodruff, Madelyn Beecher, and Ivy Peterman.
“Well, you don’t sound very hopeful,” she commented.
“I’m not sure how many churches will want to hire a minister with a newborn.”
“Why should that make any difference?” She sniffed. “You’re a fine minister. Even Ted Carney says so. And I thought your sermon at Waldo’s funeral was lovely.”
“Thank you, Abigail. And thank you again for the baby gifts. I’m … well, I’m just overwhelmed by your generosity.”
I wasn’t just saying that. Though she barely knew me, Abigail had given me a car seat, high chair, and an expensive stroller. It was very kind but yes, it was a little much, almost embarrassing. When we’d taken a break from gift opening to have some cake, I whispered as much to Margot.
“That’s just Abigail’s way. She gave me this necklace for my birthday,” she said, pulling the silver chain out from her blouse so I could see the heart pendant dangling from it. “It’s from Tiffany’s. It makes Abigail happy to see people happy.”
Apparently, there were a lot of people like that in New Bern. They weren’t all as wealthy as Abigail Spaulding, but they had generous spirits. Natalie, Jessica, Antoinette, and the others from the class had given me all kinds of baby clothes. Virginia made a diaper stacker and bumper pads from some of the same fabrics that I had used on the baby quilt I’d made in class, so everything in the crib would match. Ivy gave me several children’s books that her little ones had enjoyed when they were tiny. Wendy gave me a baby monitor. Tessa and Madelyn’s gift was a whole box filled with baby toys, including a plush musical teddy bear. And Margot gave me a sort of backpack that you wore in front, so the baby could ride close to your heart while your hands were free to do other things. She assured me it would come in very handy.
I remember how nervous I felt when I came to New Bern, overwhelmed by the speed at which it all was happening, worried at how I would be received by the congregation, wondering what I really had to offer them—so many fears, all of them unfounded.
My unexpected sojourn to New Bern is already at the halfway point. Soon I will move on to … well, somewhere. I don’t know what God has planned for me next, but coming to New Bern has taught me, once again, that I can rest easy, knowing the plan is a good one. Still, it is hard to imagine that anyplace could come to feel like home, and so quickly, in the way New Bern has.
The presents having been opened and the coconut cake with lemon filling now nothing more than shreds of coconut confetti and delicious crumbs, Virginia informed everyone that it was time for “Show and Tell.”
Over the last eight weeks, we’ve seen each other’s quilts at all stages of construction, but it’s fun to see them finished at last. Though we all had the same teacher, and some even used the same pattern, every quilt turned out differently.
When it was getting near time to leave, Virginia passed out brochures with listings for the next term of classes. The reason I took the Ladies in Waiting class was so I could get to know other expectant mothers without giving my secret away—it wasn’t about learning to quilt. But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with quilting. Even with a new crop of volunteers to help at the church, I still had so much to do, but I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the class descriptions.
I felt a hand on my forearm and the presence of someone looking over my shoulder. “The machine-piecing class might be a good next step,” Evelyn said.
“Oh. I shouldn’t. And anyway, I don’t have a sewing machine.”
“I can loan you a machine. I’ve got a spare at home—nothing fancy, but it’s got a nice, even straight stitch. That’s all you really need. Or, if you want to continue stitching by hand, you could try this one,” she said, pointing to a listing about halfway down the page.
“‘Baltimore Basics,’” I read. “‘An introduction to the history and techniques of the Baltimore Album style of quilting, utilizing a stress-free approach to needle-turn appliqué.’ Hand appliqué?”
The photograph next to the class description showed a single block with a curved wreath sprouting dozens of evenly spaced green leaves and dotted with clusters of red berries. A bird, in a lighter shade of red, sat perched on a small branch that grew out from the wreath. It was far more intricate than anything in my baby quilt.
“This looks really hard.”
Seeing Evelyn and me discussing the class, Virginia had come over to join us. “It’s not so much that it’s hard; it’s just that it’s not easy. That’s why I allow four sessions just to finish the one block; this is something you need to take your time on. But I’ve been watching you, Philippa. You’re a very precise quilter. You can do this.”
Virginia had more confidence in my abilities than I did. Still, I loved the idea of sewing a block that had some history attached to it. This block, finished and framed, would make a wonderful present for my mom. She loves all things antique. Of course, the block would be new, but it looked old. And she’d love that I made it for her myself.
“How much is the class?”
“As it so happens,” Evelyn said in a deliberately surprised voice, “this class runs exactly fifty dollars. And that includes the kit.”
I grinned. “The voice of temptation.”
“Don’t be so coy. It’s not like you’re that hard to tempt,” Virginia said. “We had your number from the minute you walked in here. First time I saw you, I turned to Evelyn and said, ‘Evelyn, that woman is a born quilter.’”
Was that what I was?
I took the gift certificate out of my new diaper bag and handed it to Evelyn.
50
Margot
The doorbell rang at seven on the dot. Shoot! I was hoping he’d be a few minutes late. I quickly hung the last towel over the bar and gave the bathroom a final once-over. Everything looked good, but on second thought, maybe having an open flame in a home with a small child would be considered a bad thing? Philippa had advised me that child safety was absolutely key to making a good impression during my home study.
I blew out the candle, bared my teeth in the mirror, and rubbed off a lipstick smear. Would he mark me down for having only one bathroom? My parents had two and a half. Well, there was nothing I could do about it now. “Coming!” I shouted and ran down the stairs.
I took a deep breath and pasted a smile on my face before opening the door. I’d never seen Geoff dressed in anything but a suit and tie, so it was strange to see him standing on my doorstep wearing khakis, a blue sweater, and a loose-fitting suede jacket. He must have gone home from the office and changed. His right hand was behind his back, but he was carrying his trusty clipboard in his left.
“Hope I’m not early,” he said and flashed a brilliant smile.
“No, no. Right on time. I was just in the bathroom. Come on in!” I opened the door wider and stood aside so he could pass.
He pulled his arm out from behind his back and handed me a bouquet of flowers, pink carnations nestled among deep green ferns and baby’s breath. “For you.”
“Oh.” I hesitated just a moment before taking the bouquet. Did he usually bring flowers when conducting a home study? Maybe this was just his way of trying to help people relax. Probably he realized how nervous I was.
“Thank you. They’re very pretty.”
“Pink and green,” he observed. “Your favorite colors.”
“That’s right.” How had he remembered that? “I should put these in water. Do you want to see the kitchen first?”
Geoff made a little half bow. “Lead the way,” he said and followed behind me.
“I’m so nervous,” I said with a giggle and was instantly annoyed at myself for doing so. But that’s what I do when I’m nervous; I can
’t help myself.
“Perfectly understandable. But don’t worry. I’ve done this a hundred times. You’re in very good hands.”
I found a vase, filled it with water, and dumped the flowers in without bothering to arrange them, then stood back and watched, barely breathing, while Geoff inspected my kitchen, opening cupboards, trying out the flame on the stove top, looking under the kitchen sink where I keep the cleaning supplies. When the child lock on the door prevented him from opening the door fully, he smiled. “Good job,” he said with a wink and made a note on his clipboard. I breathed a little easier.
Next, he looked in the refrigerator, which I had stocked with a variety of vegetables and fruits, orange juice, a block of cheese, a gallon of low-fat milk, yogurt, cottage cheese, a dozen eggs, a home-roasted chicken, a package of steaks, and a loaf of whole wheat bread, among other things. It was way more food than I normally keep on hand, but I wanted to let Geoff know that I was ready and willing to prepare wholesome, home-cooked meals for Olivia.
He gave the foodstuffs a cursory glance before looking at the shelves in the door. “Aha!” He pulled a bottle of white wine off the shelf.
I blanched and closed my eyes. No! With all the trouble I had gone to in the last days and weeks—buying things, repairing things, cleaning things, making sure absolutely every inch of my house was absolutely perfect—how could I have left an open bottle of wine in the refrigerator? Right in plain view!
Geoff held up the bottle and read the label. “Very nice. Where do you keep the glasses?” Without waiting for me to answer, he opened a cupboard and took out two glasses, filled both, and handed one to me. I didn’t drink, just held the glass.
Geoff took a long swallow from his glass, working his mouth a bit, a look of concentration on his face. “That is good,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “Well, everything seems fine here. Can I see the rest of the house?”
Ties That Bind Page 28
