An Elm Creek Quilts Sampler (125 page)

Each morning, the Cross-Country Quilters met for an early breakfast before gathering around the quilt frame. As the hours passed, their stitches added dimension and texture to their sampler, and their progress urged them on despite sore fingers and tired eyes. They talked as they worked, baring their hearts and unburdening their souls as they felt they could with no other friends, even ones they had known all their lives. There was a sanctity about the quilt frame that promised that secrets could be shared there, and no confidence would be broken or judgment passed.

On Friday afternoon, they finished the last quilting stitch and removed their masterpiece from the frame. Megan made a long strip of bias binding; Donna machine-sewed one of the long sides a quarter inch away from the edge, all around the front of the quilt. They decided a change of scene would invigorate them, so they carried the quilt outside to the verandah, where they arranged chairs in a circle, the quilt in the center. Each woman took one section of the edge, and together they folded the binding around the raw edges of the quilt and blind-stitched it in place on the back.

By late afternoon, they were so close to finishing their project that they decided to skip dinner and work all through the night if necessary. A half hour into the dinner period, Sylvia came looking for them.

“Aren’t you ladies going to take a break?” she asked.

They shook their heads, and Grace said, “Not when we’re so close to the end.”

“Some rest might give you more energy to finish.”

“Or it might make it all the more difficult to continue afterward,” Julia said.

Sylvia sighed. “Very well. You’re forcing me to pull rank. As the founder of Elm Creek Quilts, I’m ordering you to put down those needles and join me in the banquet hall. Now.”

The Cross-Country Quilters exchanged looks of surprise and dismay. “We’ll grab a snack later,” Megan said, but Sylvia would have none of that. Ignoring their protests, she ushered them inside. Resigned, they allowed themselves to be herded along, realizing that they were a bit hungry after all, and that maybe a minute or two of rest wouldn’t hurt.

When they walked into the banquet hall, they were greeted by dozens of women of all ages shouting, “Surprise!”

Vinnie nearly reeled from astonishment.

One by one, the Cross-Country Quilters began to laugh as other campers surrounded their friend, hugging her and wishing her a happy birthday. Sylvia led them in singing “Happy Birthday” as she led Vinnie to a place of honor, a seat at a table with a birthday cake in the middle.

“I can’t believe we forgot,” Donna whispered to Megan in dismay as Vinnie made a short speech thanking everyone for their good wishes.

“Don’t feel bad,” Megan said with a shrug. “Vinnie forgot, too.”

And it was true. This year, Vinnie’s Elm Creek Quilt Camp surprise birthday party was indeed a surprise.

Sylvia’s prediction came true; after the birthday party, the Cross-Country Quilters were in such good spirits that they finished the quilt in no time. Each signed the back with her name, her city and state, and the name of the block she had made. All that remained was to admire their handiwork and praise themselves for the hard work, quilting and otherwise, they had put into their masterpiece.

But then Vinnie frowned. “Who gets the quilt now?”

All they could do was look at each other. Somehow, the thought of what would become of the quilt after its completion had never occurred to them. They could hardly divide it into equal shares, as they had the autumn leaf fabric the year before.

“Maybe we should ask Sylvia to display it here,” Donna suggested. “To inspire other campers.”

“Not on your life,” Vinnie retorted. “If that’s our best option, I’m taking it home.”

“Why you?” Julia protested, nudging her.

“I have seniority,” Vinnie said in a lofty voice, and they all laughed.

“We could draw straws,” Megan said, but she didn’t look satisfied with that solution.

“We should take turns,” Grace said, and soon it was decided that Vinnie would be allowed to take the quilt home first, since it was, after all, her birthday. Next year, and every year after that, they would meet at Elm Creek Quilt Camp to renew their friendship and pass on the quilt to the next in line.

Vinnie was pleased that she got to be first, but she still looked doubtful. “A year is an awfully long time to wait.”

Donna smiled. “Not if we keep busy with a new project.”

She reached for her bag and brought out two yards of fabric she had been saving for exactly this occasion.

Good-byes were even more difficult and tearful than they had been the year before, even though each knew she would be seeing her friends again the next summer. Megan reflected that if their friendship had survived that first, most difficult year, it would surely endure as long as they nurtured it.

Julia left first, waving her fat quarter of Donna’s fabric out the window at her friends as her limousine pulled away. Donna and Grace rode the shuttle to the airport together, able to postpone their farewells for another two hours. Then only Megan and Vinnie remained in the parking lot behind Elm Creek Manor, waiting for Vinnie’s ride and watching other campers load their cars.

Megan’s heart began to pound with nervousness as a familiar car crossed the bridge over Elm Creek, slowing as it approached them.

“Well, there’s my ride,” Vinnie said, sighing. She hugged Megan and added, “Take care of yourself, dear.”

“You, too,” Megan said. “I’ll see you next year.”

Vinnie nodded, and they both fell silent as Adam got out of the car. “Hi, Nana,” he said, bending over to kiss her cheek. His eyes went to Megan. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“My goodness, my legs are so tired,” Vinnie said, hurrying toward the car with a speed that belied her words. “I’d better sit down.” She let herself in the passenger side and shut the door.

Megan and Adam watched her, then looked at each other. “She’s still at it, I see,” Megan said.

“She doesn’t give up easily.”

Megan nodded, unable to think of anything more to say.

“How’s Robby?” Adam asked.

“Good. He’s good.”

“Good.”

Megan nodded again, pained by the deep loss she felt seeing him again, and wishing that things had turned out differently. “Well,” she said, when she could no longer bear the awkwardness between them. “I’d better get going.”

“Me, too,” he said, indicating his car with a tilt of his head. Suddenly he extended his hand. “Have a safe trip.”

She shook it. “You, too.”

“Say hello to Robby for me.”

“I will.”

He nodded, and gave her a smile that was both wistful and understanding, then placed Vinnie’s suitcase in the trunk, got into his car, and drove away.

Megan watched him go, then sighed and carried her bag across the parking lot to her own car. It had been difficult seeing him again, as she had imagined it would be, but her heart ached only a little, and she would get over it. Next year, she promised herself, she would be able to face him without the slightest hint of regret.

Or maybe she would spare them both another awkward scene. Someone else could wait with Vinnie next time.

“Well?” Nana asked as they drove through the forest toward the main road.

“Well what?”

“Did you apologize?”

Adam glanced at her. “I apologized months ago. It didn’t do any good.”

“So you’re just going to give up? Don’t you sit there and tell me you don’t care about her. I know you still love her.”

At first Adam said nothing, reluctant to discuss the deepest feelings of his heart with his grandmother, who, it had to be said, didn’t always recognize the importance of keeping a secret. Then, suddenly, he didn’t care whom she told. She could tell all her quilting friends if she liked—she could even tell Megan if she was determined to do so. It was the truth, and he was tired of pretending otherwise.

“I never stopped loving her,” he said quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nana glaring at him. “You should have told her.”

“She doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want me in her life, Nana. She’s made that perfectly clear.”

“You should have told her anyway.”

Frustrated by the suspicion that maybe she was right, Adam shot back, “Maybe I’m tired of humiliating myself.”

“I’m ashamed of you,” Nana retorted. She folded her arms and turned her head firmly toward the window, as if she would have turned her back on him if the seat belt permitted. “My only comfort is that your grandfather isn’t here to witness this appalling display of cowardice. You are a prideful, ignorant young man, and because of it, you’re going to lose that lovely young woman.”

Adam was about to protest when suddenly, with a flash of insight, he realized that if he let Megan drive away without attempting to talk to her, he would deserve every word of his grandmother’s criticism.

He turned the car around.

Nana started. “What are you doing?”

Adam said nothing. Determined now, he sped along the highway back the way they had come and turned onto the road through the forest. He passed the fork that led to the front entrance of Elm Creek Manor and continued along the narrow road that wound through the trees toward the back of the building. Megan would have taken the same road he had traveled on, and since he hadn’t seen her, she must still be back here—

“You’re driving like a madman,” Nana shrieked. “Do you want to crash us into a tree? If another car comes—”

But just then the forest gave way to a clearing. Ahead of them on the right was a two-story red barn built into the side of a hill, and coming around it at that moment was Megan’s car.

Adam honked his horn and flashed his lights, slowing his car and pulling off the narrow road onto the bordering grassy meadow. He parked and kept honking, knowing she would recognize his car, but watched with a sinking heart as she drove toward him without slowing, and then passed.

She didn’t even stop
, he thought, bitter with disappointment. She had kept driving as if he were invisible. He reached for the keys and was about to start the engine when a glance in the rearview mirror told him he was mistaken.

Megan had pulled her car off the road.

Quickly he left his car and went to meet her. By the time he crossed the distance that separated them, Megan had exited her car and stood, arms folded, beside it.

He waited until he reached her before saying, “I’m glad you stopped.”

“I thought it might be an emergency.”

“It is.” He searched for the words, but before he could think of something gentle and romantic to say, the truth spilled out. “Megan, you haven’t been fair to me. I never gave you any reason to doubt me, or to doubt how I feel about you. I know you’ve been lied to in the past, but not by me. Never by me.”

She watched him, her green eyes wide and calm. “I know that.”

“Then how could you have assumed the worst instead of believing me when I told you what happened? You know what Natalie’s like; I told you what she was like. Couldn’t you see she was baiting you?”

“Not at the time, I couldn’t.”

“What about now?”

“Now …” She hesitated and looked away. “Now I think I gave Natalie exactly what she wanted.”