Apart at the Seams

by Marie Bostwick

  When I came out of the house, carrying a bowl of potato salad to go with the hamburgers and chicken, the children were playing hide-and-seek, the men were standing around the grill holding cans of cold beer, watching Brian turn over the meat, and the women, who had been sitting in lawn chairs under the shade of the biggest maple, talking and laughing while they stitched on their crazy quilts, were now on their feet, clustered around Ivy, chattering excitedly. I left the potato salad on the table and went to see what the commotion was about.

  “Oh, it’s lovely! I’m so glad you finally found one you liked,” I said when Ivy showed me her ring, a white gold engagement ring crafted in a circular floral design with a round-cut diamond in the center and six smaller stones set into the surrounding leaves. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Where did you find it?”

  “At Lipscomb’s, the estate jewelry shop on Commerce,” she answered. She rocked her hand so the sunlight filtering through the leaves caught in the facets of the diamonds, making them sparkle. “It’s vintage. Mr. Lipscomb said that it had belonged to a woman who was married for seventy years. Her son didn’t have any children to pass it on to, so he brought it into the shop and asked Mr. Lipscomb to sell it to a nice young couple and that he hoped whoever bought it would be as happy as his mom and dad had been.”

  Ivy looked up. Her face was glowing. “When I heard that, I knew this was the ring for me. I just love it.”

  Margot squeezed Ivy. “I’m so happy for you!” she exclaimed. “Have you picked a date yet?”

  Ivy bobbed her head. “December twentieth. It’s only five days after the end of classes, so I’ll have to scramble a little to get everything ready in time, but we’ll manage. It was either that or wait until school ends in May, and Dan didn’t want to wait that long. Neither did I,” she said with a smile. “It’s not going to be a big ceremony, but you’re all invited, so mark your calendars. Evelyn and Bethany will be bridesmaids, Drew and Bobby will be the best men—we decided to have two—and Philippa is going to officiate.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “I’m going to have some fancy new vestments for the occasion. Virginia is going to make me a quilted clerical stole.”

  “Be sure and let me know as soon as you pick your colors,” Virginia said to Ivy. “I want Philippa’s stole to match the flowers.”

  “Oooh!” Margot enthused, hugging Ivy again. “A Christmas wedding! How romantic. I hope it snows. That would be just beautiful.”

  “Where are you going on the honeymoon?” I asked.

  “Disney World.”

  Abigail shot Ivy a disdainful look. “Disney World. Aren’t you and Dan a bit old for that? Florida is very nice in winter, I’m sure, but why not Miami or West Palm? Or even St. Augustine?”

  “We’re taking the kids,” Ivy explained. “After all, it’ll be Christmas. We can’t very well leave them home, and we wouldn’t want to. Besides, I’ve never been to Disney World. It’ll be fun.”

  “Very romantic, I’m sure,” Abbie mumbled under her breath.

  Evelyn, ever the diplomat, gave Abigail a nudge with her elbow and changed the subject.

  “When are you and Brian leaving for Italy? It’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

  “On the fourteenth,” I said. “I can’t wait! We’ll be gone for two weeks and come back at the end of the month. Brian’s been going into the music store to train with the owner, but he won’t really take over until we return. I’ve got a ton to do between now and then. I took on two new clients, both from New Bern, and I’ve got to plant all those bulbs I ordered. As usual,” I said, giving Tessa a look, “I got a little carried away.”

  Tessa laughed. “Sister, you’re singing my song.”

  “Oh!” Ivy exclaimed. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Do you think Brian would be willing to play his guitar and sing at the wedding?”

  “You’ll have to ask him,” I said, glancing toward Brian, who was frantically spraying water onto a flaming hamburger as Charlie looked on with alarm. “But I’m sure he’d love to. He’s very talented.”

  With the burgers done—more like well-done—everyone gathered around the table and started filling their plates. Though I’d told them it wasn’t necessary, the women had brought food anyway, so in addition to the burgers, chicken, potato salad, green salad, and strawberry shortcake, we had baked beans, corn salad, cucumber salad, carrot cake, and brownies. The table was positively groaning.

  Though I waited until everyone else was served before getting a plate for myself, there was still enough food to feed a marine battalion. I’d just put a spoonful of corn salad onto my plate when I noticed someone was missing.

  “Dan, where did Drew run off to? Isn’t he hungry?”

  “Drew is always hungry,” he assured me as he shared a bite of brownie with Ivy. They were so adorable together. “He had to run back to the house and check something in his e-mail. Don’t worry. He’ll be back in a minute.”

  He was, emerging from the swath of trees that separated our two properties, now so thick you really couldn’t see past them, and then loping across the lawn with an enormous grin on his face.

  Dan twisted around in his lawn chair when he saw his son approaching. “Well? How were they?”

  “Two hundred and thirty points better than last time,” he reported with pride. “Mrs. Oliver, it looks like I owe you twenty dollars.”

  “Your SAT scores! Oh, Drew, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!” I whooped and threw my arms around him. He blushed a bit but submitted to my embrace. Such a sweet kid.

  “Can I pay you next week, Mrs. Oliver? I’m a little short right now.”

  “Oh, Drew. That bet was just a joke. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “But I want to,” he insisted.

  “Tell you what,” I said, handing him a paper plate and some silverware, “why don’t we take it out in trade. Come over and weed the garden for me while we’re in Italy. I don’t want to come back and find it all overgrown.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I’ll stop by every day after school.”

  “Thanks, Drew. That’d be a big help.”

  People lingered through the afternoon, returning to the table again and again to refill their plates or take another can of beer or soda from the cooler, and then returning to the shade of the trees, choosing a different lawn chair, and sitting down next to someone new to catch up with an old friend or get to know a new one.

  When the sun began to set and the crickets started to chirp and fireflies started to appear, skipping like fairies through the air, people packed up their loved ones and covered dishes, kissed and hugged, said their good-byes and reminded one another that quilt circle wasn’t canceled just because it was a holiday week, then headed for home. Brian and I stood in the driveway, waving as the last set of taillights disappeared behind the privet hedge, then went back into the house to wrap the leftover food and wash the serving dishes that my friends had helped carry inside before departing.

  Brian sat on his haunches in front of the open refrigerator, trying to find a space to stow the leftover baked beans. “That was a good party,” he said. “Really good. Usually with a group that large, you’re going to find at least two or three people you don’t care for, but they were all very nice. Interesting too. Of course”—he chuckled— “Charlie gave me a bit of gas about burning the meat and being British. He said his blessed mother back in Ireland would turn in her grave if she knew he was consorting with an Englishman.”

  Brian shoved the bean bowl onto a shelf and closed the door quickly before it had a chance to fall. I rinsed soap off a platter and made a mental note to be very careful when opening the refrigerator door again.

  “He’s an odd duck,” Brian continued, “but I like him. I like all of them.”

  “So do I. Sweetheart, could you go into the linen closet and get me some more dish towels? This one is so wet I think I’m just moving the water around.”

  “Sure. Be right back.”

 
A minute later, I heard Brian calling me from the hallway but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  “Can’t you find them?” I shouted. “They’re on the right side of the shelf, next to my fabric. Do you see them?” I waited a moment, sighed, and wiped my hands on my jeans. “If it was a snake . . . ,” I mumbled, walking across the kitchen.

  He met me at the door, carrying two terry-cloth dish towels and the remains of my ravaged quilt top.

  “What happened here?” he asked, holding up the quilt to display the enormous tear down the sashing and another along the border.

  “Oh. That.” I cleared my throat. “That happened a couple of weeks ago. It’s supposed to be your birthday present, but I had a bit of a meltdown. I was out of teacups.”

  He frowned, giving me a quizzical look. I took the dish towels from his hand, draped the torn quilt over the back of a chair, and went back to the sink.

  Brian walked over to the chair. “So it’s ruined? That’s too bad,” he said, looking down at the ragged red edges. “I like these colors.”

  I smiled and wiped water from the platter. “Not ruined,” I said. “It can be repaired.”

  “How?” he asked doubtfully, reaching out to touch the rent patches. “It’s a mess.”

  I put the platter back in the cupboard and came up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head between his shoulders. “I know, but the tears are only along the seams. The fabric itself is still strong. I can sew it together again. And by the time I’m finished, it’ll be just as good as it was before, maybe even better.”

  Brian turned to face me, draping his arms over my shoulders.

  “Are you sure?”

  I rose on my toes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

  “I’m sure,” I said. “I’m absolutely sure.”

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  Apart at the Seams

  Marie Bostwick

  ABOUT THIS GUIDE

  The following questions are intended to

  enhance your group’s reading of

  Apart at the Seams.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  When Gayla Oliver learns that her husband, Brian, has had an affair, she points out that when the gossip mills start churning in the wake of marital infidelity, someone always says, “Well, she must have known. Down deep, she had to have at least suspected.” Do you agree with that statement? Do you believe people with cheating spouses actually know what is going on at some level but choose to look the other way? Or do you think, as Gayla does, this is something that people say to make themselves feel more secure in their own relationships? Or does the truth lie somewhere in between?

  Gayla learns about Brian’s affair and unhappiness in their marriage when she stumbles upon a memo he wrote to her but failed to send. Why do you think he did that? If he changed his mind about divorce and never intended for her to see the memo, why do you think he never deleted it? And why, if he was so unhappy, didn’t he simply speak to her about their problems? Was the memo his way of sorting out his thoughts and desires? Or avoiding them?

  Ivy Peterman is distressed when she learns that, according to the law, her abusive ex-husband, Hodge, who is soon to be released from prison, has a right to be reunited with his children. What do you think of these types of laws? Should parents with records of abuse be allowed contact with their children? Never? Sometimes? Only in certain circumstances? In these instances, should children have a right to refuse to see their parents? If so, at what age and under what circumstances?

  In spite of an understandable wariness about entering into a new relationship, Ivy, after spending so many years alone, decides to give speed dating a try. If you’ve been married or in an exclusive relationship for a very long time, how do you think you’d feel about dating again? Do you think the process of meeting new romantic partners is something that would be fun? Anxiety producing? Something that you’d never do in a million years? If you’re on the dating scene now or have been in the past couple of years, what do you think is the best way to meet new people? And for everyone, can you recall the best date you’ve ever been on? The worst?

  Looking for a way to explain her sudden appearance in New Bern without giving away too much about her personal life, Gayla tells Tessa and the other women of the Cobbled Court Quilt Circle that she is taking a “sabbatical” and using the time to try things she’s always wanted to do but has never found the time for. What about you? If you could take a sabbatical from everyday life, what things would you want to try? Would you take up a new hobby or sport? Take an exotic vacation? Go back to school?

  Think about the list you created in response to the previous question. Obviously, there may be financial, vocational, or lifestyle factors that would keep you from taking up some of those activities now, but can you also identify items on the list that you could try now or in the near future? What obstacles are standing in your way? Can you think of ways to overcome those obstacles? Are you ready to do so?

  In the story, Gayla has to wrestle with a very fundamental question: Is it possible for a marriage to survive in the aftermath of infidelity? Gayla’s friend Lanie says no, asserting that a man who cheats once will cheat again. Brian, Gayla’s husband, says yes, believing that they can work through their problems and give the marriage a second chance. Gayla isn’t so sure. What do you think? In cases of infidelity, is divorce the best or only option? Why? Or do you believe that couples should stay together no matter what, even if one of them has been unfaithful? Or do you believe that, when somebody cheats, the couple should stay together only under certain conditions? What are they?

  Overwhelmed by emotions she seems unable to control, Gayla stumbles upon an unusual but effective method for dealing with her anger—smashing dishes against a stone wall. What do you do when you’re angry or frustrated? How is that working for you? Do you think there could be a more constructive way of handling your emotions?

  Gayla and Brian originally bought the cottage in New Bern because they hoped it would give them a means of staying connected as a couple during a challenging season in their careers. While it didn’t work out the way they’d hoped, at least not at first, it wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. What about you? Do you and your spouse or partner have a special place you like to go together? Someplace that helps you clear your heads and reconnect romantically?

  When Brian suggests dating as a means of healing their broken relationship, Gayla is skeptical but grudgingly decides to go along with his plan, quickly realizing that she doesn’t know her husband as well as she thought she did. If you’ve been married or in a relationship for a long time, what suggestions do you have for keeping the interest and romance alive for the long haul?

  Gayla knows that if she hopes to repair her broken marriage, she has to find a way to forgive Brian, but it isn’t easy. When someone we love hurts us deeply, it can be very hard to move past the hurt and truly forgive. Some people, like Lanie, would say it’s impossible, even foolish, and that people who do so are just setting themselves up to be hurt again. On the other hand, Philippa believes forgiving is the only way to free ourselves from the worry and anxiety of past hurts, telling Gayla that, “every debt we choose to hold on to actually has a hold on us.” What do you think? Do you agree with Lanie? Or with Philippa? This may not be an answer you wish to share with the group, but did reading the story remind you of any half-healed hurts in your own life? Is there someone you need to forgive? What difference would it make in your life if you were able to do that? Or perhaps you’ve realized that there is someone of whom you need to ask forgiveness. Are you ready to do so?

  Dear Readers,

  Greetings!

  Allow me to begin this note by saying “thank you!” It is because of your ongoing support and encouragement and your love of these characters that the Cobbled Court Quilts books, which began with what I thought was a stand-alone story, have grown into a six-novel series. Six! When I say I could never have done it without you, I’
m not exaggerating, just stating the facts. My readers are just the best!

  In the digital age, there are more ways for you and me to keep in contact than ever before. You can follow me on Twitter, Pinterest, and Facebook. (If you’re looking for me on Facebook, please “like” my fan page. I post there almost every day.) You can also contact me via e-mail; just go to www.mariebostwick.com and write to me via the contact form. And, of course, you can always pick up a pen and write to me via snail mail at . . .

  Marie Bostwick

  P.O. Box 488

  Thomaston, CT 06787

  It is such a joy for me to hear from you! Please know that I do read all my mail personally and that everyone who contacts me will receive a response.

  The quilters among you will be happy to hear that, once again, my dear friend, partner in crime, and fellow fabric enabler, Deb Tucker, has created a beautiful companion quilt pattern for this book. This pattern, as well as the five patterns from previous books, are available as free downloads only to those who have registered on my Web site. If you haven’t yet registered, just go to www.mariebostwick.com, click on the “Register/Login” link in the upper-left-hand corner of the home page, and fill in and submit the registration form. Please know that we won’t share your personal information with anyone and that registered readers will receive my monthly newsletter.

  Also, in addition to the free downloadable patterns, Deb Tucker has designed several full-sized companion patterns to go with my books—including “Deep in the Heart,” from Between Heaven and Texas; “Garden Dance,” from Ties That Bind; “Providence,” from Threading the Needle; “Star-Crossed Love,” from A Thread So Thin; and a new, as-yet-unnamed pattern from Apart at the Seams—which are available for purchase from Deb’s Web site, http://www.studio180design.net .