The Healing Quilt Page 9

  Bending over to fish the empty box from the garbage, Noreen gasped. She didn’t know how she had missed it before, but the color listed on the box was black, not brown!

  Tears pooled in Noreen’s eyes. “I look ridiculous like this. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have colored my own hair. I should have waited till Lynn came back to work. How can I go anywhere in public looking like this?” she wailed.

  Goshen

  With a sense of excitement, Jan knocked on Star’s door.

  “Come in, Dad!” Star hollered from inside the house.

  He stepped in and smiled when he found his daughter in the living room, holding her guitar. “Hey, how’d you know it was me at the door?” he asked.

  “Are you kidding me?” Star grinned. “I could hear your motorcycle comin’ from a block away.”

  Jan chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll bet. If you were playing your guitar you probably couldn’t hear much other than that.” He winked at her. “More’n likely it was my heavy boots clompin’ up your front steps that told you it was me.”

  She placed the guitar on the sofa and poked his arm. “You got me there, Dad.”

  Jan draped his leather jacket over the back of a chair and took a seat beside her on the sofa. “So, are you ready to leave this cold weather behind for a few weeks and head to sunny Florida in the morning?”

  She drew in her bottom lip. “Uh, I was gonna call you about this, but now that you’re here, I can give you the bad news to your face.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “What bad news?”

  “I can’t go to Florida with you.”

  “How come? You’re not sick, I hope.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I can’t get the two weeks off that I have coming right now.”

  He smacked the side of his head. “Oh great! Why not?”

  “When I went to work this morning, the boss informed me that Shawn Prentiss, one of the guys who stocks shelves, had an emergency appendectomy, so that leaves them shorthanded. He asked me to wait a few weeks to take my vacation—until they can hire someone to take Shawn’s place, because he probably won’t be back for at least six weeks.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jan said. “Guess we’ll put our Florida plans on hold till you’re free to go then.”

  Star shook her head. “Two weeks from now the weather could improve and you might have some roofing jobs. I think you oughta go on the trip without me, and if my boss hires someone to take Shawn’s place soon, then I’ll hop on a plane and join you in Sarasota. Since I won’t be ridin’ my bike, we can double up on yours and get around that way. Or maybe I can rent one once I get to Florida.”

  Jan gave his beard a sharp pull, mulling things over. He really didn’t want to go without Star, but she had that look of determination he’d come to know so well, and he figured if he said no, she’d argue with him the rest of the day.

  “Well, okay, if you’re sure,” he finally said.

  Star gave a quick nod. “I’m not happy about having to stay behind, or for that matter, even flying down there, but I’d be a little nervous cycling all the way to Florida by myself. Most of all, though, I’d feel worse if you didn’t go ahead.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want you comin’ all that way alone on your bike.” He gave her a hug. “You have a good head on your shoulders, and I’m glad you came back into my life when you did.”

  “Same here.” She hugged him back. “You need to promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t ride your bike too fast; remember to stop for a break every few hours; and call me every night so I’ll know how you’re doing.”

  He tweaked the end of her nose, lightly brushing her gold nose ring with his little finger. “That was three things, and you said one.”

  She giggled and poked his arm playfully. “Okay, so I lied. Seriously, though, I really do want you to call when you stop for the night. Oh, and when you get to Sarasota, I’ll want to know that you’ve arrived safely.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Jan teased, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. “I’ll keep you posted every step of the way, but it’s sure not gonna be the same without you on this road trip. You’re my favorite cycling partner.”

  C

  HAPTER 14

  Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

  Emma’s eyes snapped open, and she cast a quick glance at the clock on the far wall. After doing some mending this afternoon, she’d relaxed in her recliner for a while. Then, unable to keep her eyes open, she’d fallen asleep. Now it was five o’clock.

  “That noisy clock you bought the other day has just let me know that it’s time to start supper,” Emma said to Lamar, who sat on the sofa nearby, reading the newspaper. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head.

  “Sorry about that,” Lamar apologized. “When I found the clock in the secondhand store, I didn’t realize it would be so loud. I can turn the ringer off if you’d like.”

  “Danki. It might be better if you did.” Emma expelled another noisy yawn.

  “Did you have a nice nap?” Lamar stifled a yawn, then laughed. “Hearing you yawn makes me feel the need to yawn, too.”

  “Jah, hearing someone yawn can be quite contagious.” Emma grinned. “When I was a young girl, I and a bunch of my classmates were supposed to be quietly reading, while our teacher Sara Beiler graded papers. Some of us got mischievous and took turns yawning, and in no time we had the teacher yawning, too. Sara never caught on to what we were doing, and it was all we kinner could do to keep from laughing out loud. We were lucky that day that we didn’t get in trouble.”

  Lamar clucked his tongue. “My, my, you were a little dickens when you were young,” he teased.

  “Oh, you know, it was just kid stuff.” Emma yawned once more and covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. “I don’t know why, but I’ve been tired ever since our quilt class ended today.”

  “Tired physically or emotionally?” Lamar asked.

  “I think it’s more emotional than anything,” she said. “It’s difficult to see others struggling and not be able to do anything about it.”

  “Is there anyone in particular you’re thinking of?”

  She nodded. “Jennifer, for one. She’s on the brink of becoming a new mother and shouldn’t have to worry about how she and her husband are going to provide for their baby when it comes.”

  “We can give them some more food,” Lamar suggested. “Or maybe buy them a gift card they can use at one of the grocery stores in their neighborhood.”

  “That’s a good idea. I think we should do that. Unfortunately, just seeing that they have food in the cupboards won’t pay their bills.”

  “We could give them some money, I suppose.”

  Emma removed her glasses and cleaned a spot that was smudged. “I’m not opposed to that idea, Lamar, but I think from what Jennifer’s said, her husband might take offense if we gave them money. Maybe if we knew them better…”

  “I wish I knew of some restaurant that needed a cook,” Lamar said. “I’d surely put in a good word for Jennifer’s husband.” He rose to his feet. “Speaking of restaurants, why don’t we go to that nice one up the street, where Anna and Kim work? It’ll save you from having to cook this evening.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind cooking; I’ll just keep it simple. I appreciate your offer, Lamar, but I really don’t feel like going out this evening.”

  “Okay. I’ll turn the clock’s ringer off, and then we can go to the kitchen and I’ll help you fix whatever you want.”

  “We have some cold meat loaf and potato salad in the refrigerator, so maybe I’ll make a fruit salad to go with those and use some of our juicy oranges. I also have some strawberries and pineapple that I purchased at the produce market the other day, so that can be our dessert.”

  “Sounds good. We haven’t had fruit salad in a while,” Lamar said. “I can help by slicing up whatever fruit you want to use.”

  Emma smiled. Once more, she was r
eminded of how fortunate she was to be married to such a kind, thoughtful man.

  As dinnertime approached, Mike started feeling kind of shaky again. After returning from the quilt class, he’d spent the afternoon working in the yard and hadn’t taken time to eat lunch. A few times he’d had to stop when fatigue overtook him.

  “Big mistake for not eating sooner,” Mike muttered, reaching for a jar of peanut butter from the refrigerator. Since he didn’t have the energy to cook anything tonight, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would have to suffice. It was something he could make quickly and get into his stomach, which was growling loudly.

  Mike got out the bread and slathered peanut butter on one piece and jelly on the other. Then he poured himself a glass of milk and took a seat at the table. He’d just taken his first bite, when the telephone rang.

  “Oh great,” he mumbled. “It’s probably some irritating advertising call. Those always seem to come in around dinnertime.” Mike was tempted to ignore it, but on the chance that it might be his wife, he left the table and went to check the caller ID. Sure enough, it was Phyllis.

  “Hi, hon,” he said, mouth still full of sandwich.

  “Did I catch you in the middle of supper?” Phyllis asked.

  “Not so much.” He moved back to the table and took a drink of milk. “Just having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

  “That’s all you’re eating for supper?”

  “Yeah, but it fills the hole.” Mike took another drink and gulped it down, looking out the window toward the bay.

  “Are you okay? You don’t sound like your usual self tonight.”

  “Naw, I’m fine. Just tired is all. Guess I overdid it doing yard work today.” Mike reached for the sandwich and took a bite. His shakiness had subsided some, but he still felt kind of weak. No way was he going to tell Phyllis that, though. She’d be torn between coming home to look after him and taking care of her sister.

  “How’d the quilt class go today?” she asked.

  “Fine. How’s Penny doing?”

  “Okay, but she’s not ready to be on her own yet. She really appreciates me being here, especially with the snowstorm we’re having right now. I think it’s a blizzard, actually.” Phyllis paused briefly. “I’m glad Penny has a generator. So many people here are without power, but Penny’s prepared for something like this.” She laughed lightly. “My big sis always did have a good head on her shoulders.”

  “I hope you two stay put and don’t go anywhere. You’re not used to driving in the snow—especially with someone else’s vehicle,” Mike said with concern. “Sure wish I was there with you right now.”

  “We’re managing okay. The weather station’s been warning people about this blizzard for a few days, so I went out and got some extra groceries the other day,” Phyllis said. “Penny doesn’t live far from the store, and I truly think everyone goes there just for the bread and milk. There was hardly any left in the store when I got there. Anyhow, Mike, I’m glad I thought to bring along some warmer clothes for this trip.” She laughed. “I’d feel like a Popsicle if I’d only brought shorts and sandals.”

  “Guess people prepare for a snowstorm a little differently than when we get ready for a hurricane. At least up north, they don’t have to board up the house or move inland,” Mike said.

  “You’re right about that. It’s sort of exciting to see all this snow, but at the same time, I really miss you and can’t wait to get home. I’m starting to forget what that warm sunshine feels like, and I sure miss smelling the ocean breeze.”

  “I’ll take our warm winters over those frigid ones any day.” Mike grabbed a napkin and swiped at the sweat on his forehead. Even though he’d eaten half the sandwich, he still didn’t feel right. His skin felt clammy. Now, along with everything else, the area around his mouth tingled a bit. What in the world is going on with me? Mike wondered. What he really wanted to do was head to the living room and lie down on the couch.

  “Mike, are you listening to me?”

  “Uh, what was that?”

  “I was wondering if you’ve heard anything about your boat yet.”

  “Nope, nothing recently, but the last time I checked I was told it would be a few more weeks.” He took a seat at the table.

  “I’ll let you go so you can finish your sandwich. I’ll call again in a few days.”

  Mike said good-bye to Phyllis and grabbed the other half of his sandwich. Maybe come Monday morning I will call the doctor, he decided. It doesn’t make sense the way I’ve been feeling today, and I really would like to know if there’s something seriously wrong.

  “How’d your day go, sweetie?” Kyle asked as he and Erika sat at the kitchen table, eating the pepperoni pizza he’d brought home for supper. It wasn’t the healthiest meal, but it was quick and easy. Besides, it was Erika’s favorite kind of pizza.

  “My day was the same as usual,” she mumbled around a piece. “How was yours?”

  “Exhausting.” He reached for his glass of water. “Never had so many emergencies all in one day.”

  “Accidents or kids who are sick?” she asked.

  “Both.”

  Erika grunted. “Life stinks, and folks just need to get used to it. I’d hate to be a doctor and see people hurting all the time.”

  I watch you hurting, he thought. Sometimes that’s worse than anything I see at the hospital, Erika. I’d give anything if I could give you back the ability to walk.

  “How’d the quilt class go today?” Kyle asked, feeling the need to change the subject before he gave in to the blame game again.

  “Well, it wasn’t quite as boring as the week before.”

  “Oh? What happened?”

  “A gecko got into the Millers’ house and gave a couple of people a merry chase.” Erika reached for her glass of lemonade. “Oh, and one of the women had to drop out of the class to take care of her sister who has a broken leg, so her husband took her place.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  Erika wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think he really wanted to be there, and he especially wasn’t having fun when he almost passed out.”

  Kyle’s eyebrows lifted. “What brought that about?”

  Erika shrugged. “I’m not sure, but he seemed to feel better after he ate some of Emma’s coffee cake. I told him I thought he should see a doctor, ’cause he could have low blood sugar.”

  “That’s possible, but of course, it could have been something else causing his symptoms. I’m glad you suggested he see a doctor, though. That was good thinking on your part.”

  “I’m not stupid, Dad.”

  His face heated. “Never said you were. Why do you always have to get so defensive, Erika?”

  “I’m not. And why do you always treat me like a baby?”

  Because you act like one sometimes. Of course, Kyle didn’t voice his thoughts. Erika would have really gotten defensive.

  “Let’s not argue,” Kyle said, reaching for another slice of pizza. “I don’t have the energy to spar with you tonight.”

  Her lips compressed, but she made no comment. Kyle was beginning to think he would never get through to his daughter. He could only hope and pray that someone else could.

  As B.J. sat on the porch of the bungalow he’d rented, watching the waves lap against the shore, he reflected on the debilitating fatigue he often felt, and wondered if his cancer had worsened. He remembered his doctor back home telling him that if he wasn’t going to continue his treatments, then he needed to get his affairs in order and try to enjoy whatever time he had left.

  And that’s just what I’m doing, B.J. thought. Since he’d come to Sarasota, he’d developed a more positive outlook than when he’d been diagnosed with cancer. Maybe it was because the warm sunshine felt so good. Or it could be a renewed interest in his artwork since he’d begun taking the quilting classes. Either way, B.J. was living life the way he wanted, and by learning how to quilt, he hoped to hand down something special to his granddaughter when he
left this old earth.

  B.J.’s thoughts turned to his friend Sam Murphy, whom he’d met at the oncologist’s office during one of his appointments. He’d talked to Sam on the phone last night and learned that Sam’s cancer was getting worse. Sam sounded as though he’d given up when he told B.J. that his doctor had said he probably had about three or four months to live.

  “Why do well-meaning doctors think they have to tell their patients how long it will be till they kick off?” B.J. muttered after taking a sip of his iced tea. He just wanted to live each day to the fullest, and not think about what lay ahead. After all, everyone had to die sometime—some sooner than others.

  B.J. pulled out his hanky and blotted a splotch of tea that had dribbled out of his glass and landed on the front of his shirt. If God wanted us to know the exact day of our death, He would have had it written on our birth certificate or something.

  A seagull screeched overhead—reep, reep, reep—and B.J. lifted his gaze upward, watching as the noisy bird flittered around, chasing another gull. When the gulls flew out above the water, B.J.’s thoughts turned to his friend again.

  Sam had mentioned how supportive his family had been since hearing of his diagnosis. He said he didn’t think he could make it without their encouragement. Sam’s daughter had even told him that being there to help him was the least she could do for all the sacrifices he’d made during her childhood. She counted it a privilege to be there for him.

  It might be a privilege for Sam’s daughter, B.J, thought, but maybe she’s not as busy as my daughters are. They both have their own lives to live, and there is no way I’m going to get in the way of that. I don’t want anyone feeling obligated to take care of me.

  He reached for his glass and took one final drink. Maybe I’ll get lucky and die in my sleep; then I won’t have to worry about this any longer. That would solve the nasty little problem for everyone.

  C