Tattered & Torn

by Carol Dean Jones

  “I see the difference,” Allison said as she compared the picture to Sarah’s quilt. “There are more hexagons in Sarah’s rosettes which change the shape slightly.”

  “Yes, they look more like a diamond,” Delores said.

  “I love this quilt,” Christina commented as she stood looking at it with her hands clasped behind her back. Kimberly smiled to herself, knowing that her sister was fighting the urge to touch the quilt. “It’s just wonderful,” Christina added.

  “I don’t see what’s so good about it,” Frank commented frowning. Frank was a young man, mildly limited in his abilities, but with a keen interest in learning to quilt. He had been with the group since the day he saw a table runner in the window of Stitches that he wanted to make for his mother. Still frowning at the quilt, he added, “It’s stained and all full of holes. It needs too much fixing.”

  Sarah noticed later during their refreshment break that Ruth’s sister Anna spent time explaining to Frank about the respect quilters have for those who came before them and how they value the work that has survived. “That quilt could have been made by your great-great-great grandmother,” Sarah heard Anna say to him as his eyes grew wide with astonishment.

  Earlier Ruth had copied a few pages from the sample book that she thought represented the style of fabrics used in Sarah’s quilt and now passed them out to the group. “Do you think these are the kind of fabrics that were used in this quilt?” She went on to tell them about the sample book which covered textiles produced during the first half of the nineteenth century.

  “That fabric right there is on my paper,” Frank called out immediately, pointing to one of the rosettes.

  “It is?” Ruth asked, doubting that he was right, but when she looked more closely she cried, “It is! You’re absolutely right.” Although the group was unable to find any other fabrics which were identical, they all agreed that they seemed very similar and were probably from the same period.

  Sarah and Ruth carefully folded the quilt and returned it to the pillow case Sarah had been using to transport her treasure. After their refreshment break, Delores asked if anyone would be interested in learning how to do traditional English Paper Piecing.

  “What’s that?” Caitlyn asked.

  “That’s probably the technique that was used to make Sarah’s quilt. The technique came to this country from England in the late 1700s and was used by quilters to make hexagon quilts. It’s done by hand, and you use a paper pattern that you baste the fabric to. Some of the very old ones used newspaper, but today you can buy precut papers and templates.”

  “It would take a long time to make a quilt that way,” Sophie spoke up, “but I’ve been doing hand piecing, and it's very relaxing. We could make something small just to learn about it.”

  “Would you teach us, Sophie?” Allison asked.

  “No,” Sophie chuckled. “Not me. Delores is the expert in that area,” she added smiling at her mentor.

  Delores said that she’d be happy to show the group the basics of paper piecing.

  “We can schedule that for next week if you’d like,” Ruth suggested, and everyone agreed.

  “If it’s alright with you,” Delores said, speaking to the group, “I’d like to teach you how it was done back in the early 1800’s, the traditional method. We can make something small using the original techniques, and then I’ll show you some of the modern conveniences that make it faster and easier. I like to look at quilting in terms of its history. When I’m piecing or quilting by hand like my great-grandmother did, it gives me a feeling of continuity and a connection to my past.”

  “The group, particularly the older members, knew what Delores meant, and they agreed that they’d like for her to teach it that way.”

  “But you’ll still show us the modern way, right?” young Caitlyn asked.

  “I certainly will, and I’ll give Ruth a list of items she can stock for the ones who want to go on with paper piecing beyond this class, things like templates, temporary glue sticks, and even water-soluble foundation papers. But let’s hold off on that until you know whether you’re interested. For the time being,” she added turning to Ruth, “we’ll just need template papers.”

  “I’ll call the order in tomorrow,” Ruth responded. “Okay, before we call it a night, does anyone have anything for Show and Tell?” Everyone began reaching for their projects eagerly.

  It was Sarah’s favorite time of the evening.

  Chapter 6

  “I’m sorry, Ladies,” the manager of the homeless shelter said as he flipped through the computer screens. “There’s nobody by that name listed here. People come and go, but we get them into the computer as they check in, and there’s no record for a Maud Templeton. My guess is that she’s never made it here. Have you tried the private shelters?”

  Sarah and Sophie were extremely disappointed. They had arrived before breakfast was served, hoping Maud would still be there. Charles had told them that the shelters generally insisted that everyone leave during the day. Turning to Sophie, Sarah said hopefully, “Well, this was just our first attempt. Let’s move on to the list of church-run shelters that Charles found for us.”

  “Here’s the list we hand out in case you don’t have them all,” the manager said, handing them a printed sheet.

  “Thank you,” Sarah said. “We appreciate your help.” Looking down at the new list, Sarah saw that Charles had done an excellent job with his research. He had identified them all.

  As they were walking out the door, the young man called to them. “Hold on. I wonder about this one. I have a May Templeman. The kids that do the data entry make lots of mistakes. Yeah, I think this might be your lady.”

  “Is she here?” Sarah asked excitedly.

  “Sorry, no. If this is your Maud Templeton, she was only here for a few weeks back three or four months ago. I remember her now. She insisted on paying us which is unusual. We let folks stay here free for a while and charge a small fee later if they decide to stay on.”

  “She only stayed a few weeks?” Sarah asked. “Where did she go after that?”

  “No idea. Some lady came and got her.”

  “Do you know who? Would her name be on that computer of yours?” Sophie asked.

  The man shook his head. “No, nothing there except their names and the dates they stayed. That’s about it for our record keeping.”

  “Do you remember anything about the woman who picked her up?”

  “Lady, that was months ago. Do you have any idea how many people come through these doors?”

  “Sorry,” Sarah replied contritely. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Who do you suppose picked up Maud?” Sophie asked after they left the shelter.

  “We actually don’t know that it was Maud that got picked up. I think we should continue to check out the other shelters.”

  There were only four on the list, but none had any record of a Maud Templeton. Three of the shelters were willing to check various spellings and dates, but the manager of the fourth one dismissed them, saying all of their people were regulars and known to him personally.

  “Did you see those lines and lines of cots?” Sophie asked as they were driving toward home. “What must life be like for those people?”

  “Very dismal, I would say,” Sarah responded. “We take our homes for granted, but really we’re very fortunate.”

  “So now what?” Sophie asked after a long pause while they both tried to imagine a different kind of life.

  “I’m not sure what you’ll think of this idea, but I believe we should try to see one of the grandsons.”

  “In prison?” Sophie gasped.

  “We’ve done it before, Sophie. It was okay. Not the most pleasant way to spend an afternoon, but one or both of the boys just might know something. They might even be in touch with her.”

  Sophie seemed to be considering the idea before speaking. “Could you get Charles to find out where they are and why?”

  “Sure. He�
��d do that for us. He’d even go with us if you’d be more comfortable.”

  “Let me think about that while you see what he can find out.”

  * * *

  When Sarah pulled up in front of her house, it sounded as if she had pulled up to the town’s animal shelter. Dogs were barking, yapping, whining, panting, and jumping up on the fence, each attempting to be the first to greet her. Sarah could count only four, but it seemed as if there were at least twice that number.

  “What’s going on?” she asked as she approached the fence and saw Charles using the hose to fill a children’s swimming pool. The two larger dogs, Sophie’s Emma, and Sarah’s Barney leaped into the pool causing a wave that caught Charles by surprise. The two smaller dogs, Jennifer’s little Papillion, Blossom, and Caitlyn’s Dachshund, Sabrina, were looking on with trepidation.

  “Where did that come from?” Sarah asked as she slipped through the gate while the dogs were distracted.

  “It was Timothy’s idea. He brought it over this morning along with Blossom and Emma.”

  “I hope he left a note for Sophie. I just dropped her off at home and when she finds her dog missing…”

  At that moment, her cell phone rang. “There she is now.” Sarah answered the phone by saying, “Your Emma is here joyfully wallowing in the swimming pool that your son brought over.” She went on to explain what was going on, and Sophie said she was on her way to join the fun.

  Charles called to Sarah and asked her to call Andy and invite him to come on over. “Caitlyn and Penny are inside making devilled eggs, and Tim’s on his way to the store for hot dogs and beer.”

  “I hope he brings rolls and sodas.”

  “Yes, I made him a list. Oh, also Martha’s on her way as soon as she can get out of the office.”

  “So we’re having a spontaneous pool party, huh? Shall I get my suit?” Sarah asked.

  “Only if you want to swim with the dogs,” Charles responded, totally drenched at that moment as both Blossom and Sabrina had also jumped in, splashing water and causing a momentary scuffle among the four dogs.

  “I am going in to change into something less susceptible to water damage,” Sarah announced. “Send Sophie in if she gets here before I’m back.”

  When Sarah returned in a sundress, Charles had pulled the picnic table away from the pool and brought a folding table and a dozen folding chairs from the garage. “I thought we’d be more comfortable this way,” he said. “The kids can have the picnic table.” He also had opened the grill and was ready for the arrival of the hot dogs.

  “I asked the girls what was in the crock pot, and they said they didn’t know, but that we were supposed to stay out of it. Whatever it is, it smells great.”

  “Tim brought that. He made chili for our hot dogs.”

  Before Sarah could respond about all that was going on in her kitchen, Caitlyn called out from the kitchen door. “Sarah, can Penny and I bake those cookies you have in the freezer?”

  “Sure,” she replied with resignation. Sarah sat down to watch the dogs, but her mind kept returning to all the things that needed to be done: dishes, silverware, napkins, and condiments. But as she was clicking things off in her mind, it occurred to her that she should simply join the party and allow the others to take care of the details. It was hard for her to hold back, but she’d been trying to remind herself that every time she took on all the responsibility, she was robbing others of the opportunity to do something special for their friends.

  Sarah pulled one of the extra chairs over and put her feet up. They’d been swelling lately, and she remembered that her mother’s doctor had told her mother to put them up. Sarah had been trying to do it herself but knew she might need to see the doctor if this didn’t work. Suddenly she realized that Martha had arrived while she was inside. Martha spotted her mother at the same moment and hurried over, giving her mother a gentle kiss on the cheek.

  “Are you okay?” Martha asked, looking at her mother’s swollen feet.

  “I’m fine, just too much running around today.” From across the yard, Timothy motioned for Martha, and she went to see what he wanted. They spoke for just a moment, and Sarah saw Martha nod her agreement and pull her cell phone out of her pocket. She spoke briefly to someone and glanced at her mother as she returned the phone to her pocket.

  Something’s up, Sarah thought.

  “It’s a party,” Sophie squealed as she burst through the gate, barely getting it closed before all four dogs could rush out in their excitement. Sophie sat down so they could all greet her without knocking her to the ground. The pool experience had them wound-up. Emma, wanting to show off her new skill, ran toward the pool with Barney right behind her, both hitting the water simultaneously, again splashing Charles, who was now soaked and threatening to change into a bathing suit himself.

  Sophie came across the yard and sat down next to Sarah. “So you didn’t know this was happening?”

  “No clue. It seemed to happen spontaneously once your son brought the pool and the dogs.”

  “Well, everyone seems to be having fun,” Sophie commented. “Do you suppose my son bought enough hot dogs for this gang?”

  “I’m trying to stay out of it, but just in case, I have two or three packages of kielbasa in the freezer. We can always put that on the grill.”

  Abruptly, all the dogs again ran to the side gate barking and clawing at the gate. Tim and Martha hurried over to help the newcomers through the gate without losing any of the dogs. “Hi, Mom,” Sarah’s son called across all the ruckus, waving to his mother with one hand and holding his little Alaina’s hand with the other. His wife Jennifer was right behind him with the new baby in one arm and a grocery bag in the other.

  “I know you folks prefer homemade,” Jennifer called out apologetically to whoever could hear her, “but I only had fifteen minutes notice to get over here with my family and lots of potato salad.”

  “This is perfect,” Charles said, taking the bag and calling to Caitlyn to come get it and put it in the refrigerator.

  Sarah noticed that three-year-old Alaina, wearing her bathing suit, was heading straight for the pool. Little Blossom, being the smallest, joined her, probably feeling safer with her than the big dogs. “

  “Bring that grandson of mine over here,” Sarah said, holding her arms out. Jonathan had been born in the early spring and, at three months, was a delightful, happy baby. He smiled up at his grandmother, and her heart melted.

  A few hours later the sun was setting, the dogs were curled up on a blanket with the girls, and the adults were relaxing around the fire Charles had built in their new patio fire pit. “Since it’s been such a lovely evening,” Tim said reaching for Martha’s hand, “and since the whole family is here and it just seems like the right thing to do, I’d like to ask a question.”

  “Sure,” Charles casually responded, oblivious to what both Sarah and Sophie immediately realized was about to happen.

  “Martha Miller,” Timothy began, “will you marry me?” With a slight tug on the hand he was still holding, he guided her into his arms as they both stood.

  “Timothy Ward, I’d be pleased to marry you,” she responded, looking over his shoulder at her mother and smiling. After tearful embracing, laughter, and hand shaking, Charles slipped into the kitchen and returned with a package of plastic glasses and the bottle of champagne he’d been saving for exactly this occasion.

  Plastic? Sarah thought but didn’t say.

  As Penny was preparing to leave with her father and Martha, Sarah took her aside and said, “You didn’t look surprised.”

  “I wasn’t. Dad told me what he was going to do. I said it was a good idea.”

  Sarah smiled. “I agree,” she responded. “A very good idea.”

  Chapter 7

  “Are you happy about our kids?” Sarah asked as she and Sophie drove toward Hamilton and the Maximum Security Prison.

  “Ecstatic,” she replied. “My son couldn’t have found a better wife. Martha
brings out the best in my son.”

  “Well, I think your son is already the best, and I’m delighted that my daughter realizes that. You know, she’s been overcautious since her marriage to Greyson.”

  “He was a terrible man. Timmy told me he was back in prison.”

  “Where he belongs, and far from here.”

  “What was Charles able to find out about Maud’s grandsons?”

  “Well, like I told you yesterday, Jerome is the only one in a prison near us. His brother is in jail in Texas for some minor drug charge.”

  “And Jerome is serving time for murder you told me, but you didn’t have any details at the time.”

  “I still don’t. Charles is going to the courthouse today to read the transcripts of his trial.”

  “What if he’s dangerous?” Sophie asked sounding uneasy.

  “We’ll be perfectly safe, Sophie. Remember when we visited Andy?”

  “Yes, I remember, and we were right in the room with him. He could have strangled us at any time.”

  “Now that’s not true. There was a guard in the room too.”

  “True.”

  “Charles said we'd be at a bulletproof window and talking to Jerome on a phone. We’ll be fine,” Sarah added confidently.

  “If you say so…”

  After turning over their purses and watching while the guard placed them in lockers, the two friends waited for an escort to take them to meet with Maud’s grandson. They were both getting nervous, Sophie because she watched too much television and Sarah fearing this would be another dead end.

  The guard escorted them up to a booth and pulled a second chair over for Sophie. The chair opposite them on the other side of the glass was empty. After a few minutes, another guard brought a tough-looking man in and set him in the empty chair across from Sarah and Sophie. Sophie scooted her chair back a few inches. The man appeared older than Sarah had expected. He didn’t make eye contact with them. Sarah picked up the receiver and motioned for the man to do the same. He reluctantly did.