Stitched Together

by Carol Dean Jones

  As the three piled into the car and headed for Martha’s house, Sarah looked at Charles and smiled. He reached over and patted her leg and winked. At that moment, she knew they would find a solution to their dilemma. She knew they loved each other enough to make whatever compromises were necessary to make their marriage work. She winked back at this wonderful man who had brought romance into her life when she least expected it.

  Chapter 3

  Sarah was trembling as she took her place at the front of the small classroom in the back of Ruth’s quilt shop. Sarah had only been quilting for a couple of years and was surprised when Ruth, the owner of Running Stitches, asked her to teach beginning quilting. Ruth had confidence in her ability and had reassured her over and over that she could do it. Sarah had developed her own class itinerary and was comfortable with what she would be teaching. Why am I so nervous? she asked herself.

  There were five women signed up for the class, and three were already there. Sarah hoped the other two were coming soon since she was eager to get started. While they waited, she decided to pass the time with introductions.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m Sarah Miller, and this class is Introduction to Quilting. This is a beginning class, and we’ll be exploring the basics of machine piecing. The only prerequisite is that you know how to use a sewing machine. You’re going to learn enough to make a simple throw, like the one I have hanging here.” Sarah pointed to the sample quilt she had made for the class. She had chosen a simple pattern that featured six-inch blocks of focus fabric alternating with Four-Patch blocks of coordinating fabrics. “As you can see, I’ve used one fabric for the square and two fabrics for the four-patches. There are also two borders: one narrow and one about four inches wide.” Noticing that two of the students were taking notes, she added, “I’ll be passing out instructions, and we’ll go over all of this later. I just wanted you to see the finished product so you could start thinking about what colors you want to use for your quilts.

  “What I’d like to do next is hear from you. Please tell us your name, your sewing experience, and why you decided to take this class.”

  “Let’s start here,” Sarah said, stopping in front of a slim young woman dressed in jeans, a white tunic, and a short denim vest. Sarah smiled, noticing that the young woman appeared nervous too. She hoped her own uneasiness wasn’t as apparent as this young woman’s was.

  “Hi. I’m Brenda Lee. I’m married and have two toddlers, both boys. I’m here to get out of the house,” she said with a nervous giggle, and everyone laughed. “No, really—I want to learn to quilt, but getting a break from a couple of wild youngsters is a real benefit.” The other women in the class chuckled, nodded their heads in agreement, and offered words of encouragement. Brenda Lee looked around, and Sarah saw her shoulders relax as a grateful smile crossed her face.

  “Oh!” she added, remembering there was another part to the question. “I took sewing in high school. I’ll admit I haven’t used it much over the last ten years, but I made my own clothes back then.”

  “Thank you, Brenda Lee. Who wants to go next?”

  “I’m Doris,” the woman sitting next to Brenda Lee announced. “I’ve been sewing all my life, and that’s a long, long time!” she said, laughing, and the group laughed with her. Doris was in her sixties and went on to explain that, over the years, she had made her own curtains and drapes and had even reupholstered her couch the previous year. “Now I need a quilt to put on the back of that couch,” she added, half joking. “The truth is I’ve always wanted to quilt but never really enjoyed handwork. When I realized that quilts could be made on the machine, I decided to give it a try.”

  “You’re in the right place for that, Doris. And you’ll leave this class with a quilt for that couch!”

  The third person was a frail-looking woman who had chosen a seat in the back of the classroom. Looking toward her, Sarah said, “Wouldn’t you like to move up here with us?”

  The woman nodded, stood, and walked slowly to the front of the room. Sarah noticed she was limping and had left her cane in the back of the room. She appeared to be in pain. The woman sat down gingerly at the table next to Doris.

  “So, tell us about yourself. What’s your name?” Sarah said as she walked to the back of the room and moved the woman’s cane up to her new seat.

  “Thank you,” the woman said to Sarah. Then turning to the others, she said, “I’m Myrtle. I made all my kid’s clothes when they were young. I even made clothes for my grandchildren, but now I’m a great-grandma. I want to make things for the kids, but youngsters these days don’t like the kinds of clothes I make. You know what I mean? I can’t make the odd stuff kids wear now, and actually I wouldn’t want to,” she added. “Anyway, I was thinking maybe I could make quilts for them. Kids still like that kind of thing, don’t they?”

  “Absolutely, Myrtle. Kids love quilts, and there are wonderful children’s fabrics to choose from. How old are your grandchildren?”

  “Well … let me see. Tyrone is twelve now. Anika is ten. The little ones are three and five. My granddaughter’s got her hands full, that’s for sure,” she added, shaking her head.

  “I think they’ll love getting quilts from their great-grandma!” Sarah assured her.

  “Okay. We have two other people who signed up for the class. We’ll have to catch them up later. I’ll tell you a little about myself. As I said earlier, my name is Sarah Miller.”

  Sarah paused, and then looked embarrassed. “Wait! That’s not my name! I got married on New Year’s Eve and …” Everyone clapped and congratulated her.

  “Let me start over. My name is Sarah Parker! But call me Sarah.” She had decided not to tell the class that she had only been quilting for a couple of years. She had a good grasp on the basic skills, and she figured there was no reason to cause her students to doubt her ability.

  “As I said earlier, we’ll be making this quilt,” she said, pointing again to the hanging quilt. “You’ll be learning how to choose your fabrics, how to read and follow the pattern, how to cut accurately, how to sew a precise quarter-inch seam, and how to square up your finished blocks. Then we’ll be putting rows together and adding borders. After that, we’ll choose fabric for the back and make the binding. At that point, it’ll be ready to quilt.”

  Sarah had left one section of the binding open on her sample quilt so she could show the class the parts of a quilt and how they got quilted together to form the final quilt.

  “Will we be quilting ours as well?”

  “That’s up to you. I can show you how to do simple straight-line quilting. If you want to wait, Ruth will offer a machine quilting class later in the year. Alternatively, I send mine to a longarm machine quilter and pay to have it finished. And, of course, you can always hand quilt it if you want. We can refer you to a woman who teaches hand quilting and another who will hand quilt it for you if anyone’s interested.”

  After a few other questions, Sarah passed out the pattern and the supply list. As they read through the pattern, the class had questions about making the four-patches, but Sarah assured them that they would learn that when the time came. “Right now,” she said, “let’s concentrate on the fabric.” She pointed out the fabric requirements on the pattern.

  The rest of the afternoon was spent in the shop, putting compatible bolts together and learning about small, medium, and large patterns and light, medium, and dark fabrics. Sarah talked about value and hue, but ultimately, seeing her student’s eyes beginning to haze over, she said, “Put together what looks good to you and then bring it over here. I’ll take a look and make suggestions if you want me to.”

  By the end of the class, everyone was lined up at the cash register with their fabrics and any supplies they didn’t already have. All three needed cutting boards, twenty-four–inch rulers, rotary cutters, and thread.

  After everyone had left, Sarah collapsed in one of the classroom chairs with a cup of coffee. “How did it go?” Ruth asked.

  �
�Once I figured out what my name was, it went fine,” she said shaking her head. “I must have been even more nervous than I thought I was. Anyway, it went fine, but I only had three students. The other two didn’t show up.”

  “Oh. I forgot to tell you. The Manahan sisters called to cancel. Their mother had a heart attack and is in ICU. They’re flying down to Florida to be with her. I’ll refund their deposit, and they can take your next class.”

  “My next class?” Sarah said, looking over at Ruth inquisitively.

  “Yes, I’m putting your name on the website as our Introduction to Quilting teacher. Okay?”

  Sarah smiled her acceptance but looked away, thinking about Charles’ desire to move to Colorado.

  Chapter 4

  “Hi, sweetie. I’m glad you got home early. I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner tonight to celebrate.”

  “I would love to go out, but what are we celebrating?”

  “Well, it’s May first …” Charles responded somewhat mysteriously.

  “And we’re celebrating May Day?”

  “We can do that while we’re out, but I was thinking about our anniversary.”

  “Our anniversary?”

  “Yes! Today is our four-month anniversary. We’ve been married exactly one-third of a year!”

  Sarah laughed. “Of course I would love to go out with you and celebrate, but if we’re celebrating our anniversary, why don’t we walk over to the Community Center and have dinner in the restaurant where we got married?”

  “Great idea,” he responded, looking at her with tenderness. “You were so beautiful walking down the aisle on Jason’s arm.”

  “You weren’t so bad yourself in your black tux and your lavender satin cummerbund …”

  “… to match your flowers and Sophie’s dress. By the way,” he added, looking puzzled, “why did I have to match Sophie’s dress?”

  “Your cummerbund wasn’t lavender in order to match Sophie’s dress, you silly man. It was lavender because our colors were antique white and lavender. Remember my dress?”

  “Vividly! It was this creamy-colored long thing, sort of shiny in places when you moved. And I think your arms sort of peeked out somehow …”

  “I’m glad you weren’t writing the wedding announcement for the newspaper. ‘The bride wore a shiny long thing …’ ”

  “Your dress was spectacular, my dear. You were the most beautiful bride there ever was.”

  Sarah pictured herself lined up with all the twenty-something young women that probably got married that same night. At seventy, she was definitely not the most beautiful bride, but she wasn’t going to argue if that’s how Charles remembered it.

  In fact, her dress was a very pale cream color; the label described it as antique white. It was satin and had a short channel-type bolero with sleeves of handmade lace. When Sarah saw the dress in the shop, she thought she recognized it and hurried home to pull out an old photograph album. Sure enough, it was a near replica of the dress her mother had worn. Sarah’s grandmother had made that dress by hand for her daughter’s wedding, which had been scheduled for June 1943 but was delayed until the war ended. They were married in the winter of 1945.

  Sarah hadn’t wanted to pay that much for her dress. She had been picturing something much less formal since they were planning a simple wedding at the Community Center. But when she saw the dress, she knew it was perfect. Her mother would have loved it. It surprised her at the time that, despite her age, she still wished her mother could have been there.

  “Has your mind wandered?” Charles asked. She hadn’t said much since they arrived at the Community Center restaurant.

  “I was picturing this room the way it was that night with all our friends here.”

  “It was a New Year’s Eve party I’ll never forget!” he responded, taking her hand across the table as they reminisced.

  The party had started off with hors d’oeuvres and dancing, followed by an elegant catered dinner. Sophie had arranged for the band that played at her son’s welcome home party the previous fall.

  Most of Sarah’s friends were there, including Ruth and Anna from the quilt shop; Andy and his daughter, Caitlyn; and many of her neighbors and quilting friends. And, of course, her family: Jason and Jennifer with little Alaina, sleeping in her carry-along sleeper, and Martha gently rocking it with her foot.

  Charles had invited a few of his old friends from the police department and Graham Holtz, his attorney and life-long friend who had been at his first wedding. Charles also invited Percy and Dell, who were two elderly men he played cards with.

  Sarah’s only regret was that Charles’ sons hadn’t made the effort to come. They both said they were busy at work and couldn’t get away. Sarah had hoped to meet them and had written them individually to invite them. They responded by telephone to Charles, saying they wouldn’t be coming. She knew he was hurt.

  The waiter interrupted their thoughts suddenly when he brought their meals. Charles had ordered for them and, to her surprise, had ordered the exact dinner that was served the night of their wedding. They drank a toast to their many years ahead, neither wanting to bring up the subject of where those years would be spent. After dinner, they walked home holding hands under the stars. It was a cool spring evening, and as they walked, they continued to think about the night they were married.

  Sophie and Sarah had requested a vacant room where they could change for the late-night ceremony. While they were dressing, the staff rearranged the main room, making rows of seating for the guests and an aisle for the bridal party. All the flowers were moved to the front of the room, and the minister took his place. When Sarah peeked into the room, expecting to see the banquet room from earlier, she saw instead a wedding chapel. The band began to play the Wedding March.

  Sophie had turned to Sarah, saying, “Why are they starting so early? This was supposed to be a New Year’s wedding, and it’s not even midnight yet.”

  “Just wait,” Sarah responded. “You’ll see.”

  Sophie, as Sarah’s matron of honor, walked down the aisle in her lavender dress and long jacket. She carried her new rhinestone-studded cane. Her friend, Andy, led her slowly down the aisle.

  Sarah and her handsome son, Jason, were next. As they walked down the aisle, Sarah smiled at her friends as they turned to admire the elegant bride.

  Right behind them was their special ring bearer, Barney, with a purple ribbon around his neck that held the wedding bands.

  As Sarah took her place next to Charles, she heard Sophie grumbling, “It’s still not midnight!”

  “Just wait,” Sarah whispered.

  The minister said his piece and instructed the couple to join hands. They had written their own vows, but Charles was too emotional to remember his. He simply looked at his bride apologetically and said, “I love you …”

  She responded softly with a loving smile. “Me, too.”

  They exchanged rings, the minister hesitated for a few seconds, looked at his watch, and finally said, “I now pronounce you man and wife … and Happy New Year!”

  Confetti flew, balloons dropped from the ceiling, and the band played Auld Lang Syne.

  It was a night to remember.

  Chapter 5

  Sarah arrived early for her class the next week and was surprised to see two of her students already in the shop. Sarah had been thinking about a new line of fabric that had been nagging at her creative side. “I want to take a serious look at that oriental fabric line,” she told Anna, who was covering the shop while Ruth finished teaching her morning class. “It’s not like anything I’ve worked with before, but it just intrigues me!”

  Sarah headed for the shelf of Asian-inspired fabrics and pulled down the first bolt that caught her eye. The fabric had a black background and featured beautifully dressed women wearing intricate kimonos and sitting gracefully in a parklike setting. They were surrounded by an array of flowers including peonies, wisteria, dahlias, and plum flowers in pinks, y
ellows, and lavenders. Branches of cherry blossoms hung delicately above their heads.

  “The geisha are beautiful in that fabric, aren’t they?” Anna said.

  “Geisha? But I thought …” Sarah said hesitantly, looking somewhat embarrassed.

  A customer standing nearby spoke up. “You thought they were ladies of the night, didn’t you?” she chuckled. “That’s a common misconception.” The woman speaking had a thick British accent. “I’m so sorry to be caught listening to your conversation,” she said, looking contrite.

  “I’m glad you spoke up,” Sarah responded, introducing herself and Anna. “I’d love to hear more about these exotic-looking women.”

  “I’m Amelia. I’m glad to meet you both, and again, please forgive my rude behavior. I shouldn’t have interrupted, but I couldn’t resist. My husband and I lived in Japan for many years, and I thought the same thing when we first arrived. But I learned that geisha are very talented women who are rigorously trained for years in the traditional Japanese art of song, dance, communication, and hospitality. They entertain in the finest teahouses and have been a part of Japanese culture for over 400 years. Their intricate kimonos, their white makeup, their elaborate hairdos are all works of art.” Amelia went on to tell them details about the geisha way of life. “They are highly respected in Japanese culture.”

  Sarah and Anna were fascinated by Amelia’s stories. As they talked, Sarah looked again at the women on the beautiful fabrics. “I don’t know where I got the idea that they were disreputable.”

  “I do,” the woman said, smiling. “During the war, there were young Japanese women who imitated the geisha manner of dress and made money selling themselves to the soldiers. They were called geisha girls. They were poor imitations of the real thing.”