Beyond the Storm: Quilts of Love Series (22 page)

Abigail stared at the gaping hole and laughed.

“What?”

“Well, you can’t wear that again,” she chided.

“Why not?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“Next time, you might take a small piece off the tail, or something,” she advised.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Like there’s gonna be a next time.”

“I don’t know, my man,” Bob Ray said. “This is kind of fun.”

Abigail was amazed at how much everyone was enjoying the project. The hours flew by and when bedtime rolled around, even though everybody was exhausted from a long, emotional day, they were all reluctant to stop and head off to bed.

Early Tuesday morning, before they each set off to lend the community a helping hand, Abigail spread out her storm scraps and mulled them over.

Justin sat next to her, watching and offering his thoughts. “Since Danny was in the military, that piece of the flag would be good in his square, huh?” he asked.

“What’s the rule on dealing with a flag after it’s been ruined? I mean, don’t you have to dispose of it in some special way?” Abigail wondered as she walked her fingers over raised threads of the stars.

“I think it would be fine to make an exception with this small piece. Danny loved his country and this would symbolize that.”

“Mm. I think that’s really nice.”

Later, Abigail realized that if a time-lapse camera had been set up over the table, it would have told the tale of the numerous comings and goings of Danny’s loved ones. Word of the quilt had spread, and people came by with stories and bits of fabric. Over iced tea and cookies, they would share their thoughts and memories as they selected fabrics from Selma’s yardage to go with their offerings.

When Kaylee stopped by, she spotted the shreds from the bodice of her wedding dress. “Abigail told me she found this over by the cleaners.” She fingered the lavishly beaded crewel work with a soft smile. “The plastic must have kept this part clean.” From her purse she pulled several pieces she’d found in a drawer at the new house. “The black satin was leftover from Chaz’s cummerbund and I also brought some of the wool that the tailor trimmed from his cuffs.” Making herself at home, Kaylee picked up a pair of scissors and went to work cutting and pinning the middle of her square.

Kaylee’s ideas inspired Elsa, and she began to work with the scrap that Selma had torn from the bottom of her prom dress the night of the storm. “This piece is a little bit stained with mud, but I like that,” Elsa mused. “It tells a story. Sometimes beautiful things get ugly, before they get beautiful again.”

Brows raised, Guadalupe and Kaylee stared at the child before they exchanged glances that spoke of how impressed they were with the depth of her thought process.

“Beautiful, Elsa,” Selma murmured and kissed the girl’s temple.

Tuesday evening, after another grueling day working the neighborhoods and searching for fewer and fewer survivors, everyone gathered after dinner to work on the quilt. As they pinned and basted their pieces together, they talked. There was a little bit of good news to celebrate, families reunited, people found, some rescued, help arriving in droves from out of state. But mostly, it was bad. Death and destruction and broken hearts everywhere.

The conversation twisted and turned and always seemed to flow back to Danny. Elbows resting on the table, Abigail cupped her chin in her hand and listened to Justin pour his grief out to Selma as they bent over his square, easing the material into the proper shape. “I feel guilty because I feel sorry for me. It’s weird but I’m almost mad at Danny for getting under a trailer in the middle of a tornado. Talk about stupid.”

“I think your feelings are pretty normal, honey. But I also see something else going on here,” Selma said as she guided his hand. She was teaching him to baste.

“Tell me. Please.” Justin tossed his square down and, leaning back in his chair, looked to Selma for answers.

“Well, I know you and Danny were very close and he was a great mentor for you. But, now that he’s gone, I think maybe the Lord would appreciate your full attention. Sometimes, in the midst of the most serious trouble, we can’t seem to reach the ones we usually depend on and I think it’s because God wants us to talk to, and depend on,
Him
. Another of my favorite Corrie ten Boom quotes is ‘You may never know that Jesus is all you need, until Jesus is all you have.’”

Justin slowly nodded and his eyes grew glassy with thought. “Um-hm.”

“You know, sometimes the Lord will use the circumstances to help you lean on Him. Why do you suppose Danny was so close to the Lord? Maybe it was because he had no siblings or family to turn to for most of his childhood, so he had to turn to the Lord. And, the better he knew Him, the more he wanted to know Him. Interesting, don’t you think?”

Wednesday morning, Isuzu brought over some swatches to contribute to the quilt; pieces of the kids’ skating costumes, some red and gold fabric from the Sakura Garden’s window dressings, among other bits and pieces that symbolized her family’s connection to Danny. “Tyler want this in quilt,” Isuzu said and held up a bit of ribbon from a medal the kids had won in a recent skating competition. “Because he say Danny was champion youth group leader. Tyler say nobody tell a Bible story the way Danny bring it to life.”

As she spoke, she began to blink rapidly and her lips quivered. Losing battle with sorrow, Isuzu buried her head in her hands and cried. “This morning, they find Nick’s body. Brooke say, Auntie Zuzu, I am glad that Danny go with Nick up to heaven . . . together. She feeling very much depressed and crying hard about Nick. She send this ribbon from corsage Nick give her. She want it in her square.”

Abigail’s heart squeezed as she rubbed Isuzu’s back with one hand and fingered the satiny smooth strip of pink with the other. Again, she was impressed by the love Danny inspired. If it had been her, what kind of legacy would she have left? Shame kindled her cheeks. It would be nothing compared to Danny’s. Her relationships tended to be superficial because she preferred it that way. That, she had told herself more than once, was all she had time for. She’d been too busy building her career to care about the people in her life enough to even ask after them when they were suffering. That was going to change. Starting now. “How are your brother and sister-in-law doing?”

Isuzu sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “We all move into nice rental house. Share for now.” As she described the house, Isuzu finished cutting out her pattern and wrote her name on the back of each square before she began to sort her fabrics. “This sound strange, but my sister-in-law, Mieko, is good. Very, very good. No restaurant, no skating, no school. She stay at hospital today, like big mother chicken, with wings spread over chicks. She tell me she happy for no more pressure. Perfect excuse. No Olympics because kids are broken. She say to me, ‘Zuzu! For first time, I feel like kids are
my
kids and not belong to public. I never am so happy.’” Isuzu pinned a piece of her pattern to a bit of fabric and began to trim the edges. “I think this very good. I think Jesus happy that Mieko get her babies back. Haruo still in shock over restaurant, but like to cook at home, too. They will make new restaurant.”

“They are going to rebuild? That’s really brave.”

“New restaurant will be nice. Maybe better. So. Will you make new salon for Zuzu?” She was staring so hard at Abigail that Abigail had to laugh.

“I’m thinking it over . . . I don’t know. My mother wants me to move out to California. And Zuzu, it’s safe there. They don’t get tornados.”

“True. Get giant earthquake. Knock you house over flat.”

Abigail pondered that for a second. “Yeah. I guess so. On the other hand, I do have a job offer there . . . but, you know Zuzu, the more I think about what I used to believe was important— beauty and beautiful people—I just don’t crave it anymore. It all just seems so silly now. On the other hand, I don’t have anything here, really . . .”

Isuzu stared at her. “I am chopped liver? You have big business here. Cut hair now in Selma kitchen until you build new shop. Okay. Good. I will rent a space from Selma for now and go back to work. Soon, huh?”

“But—”

“Shh. I think you stay here. In Rawston,” she whispered. “Marry Handsome-guy and you fight all day on phone.” Isuzu’s face scrunched and she laughed herself half silly.

Abigail groaned. Arguing with Isuzu was futile, so she changed the subject. “Zuzu, I was just thinking about something nice you and I might do for Brooke.”

Isuzu stopped laughing and looked up from the fabric she held in surprise.

Abigail tossed her scissors into her sewing basket. “It sounds like she’s going to be in bed for a while and I was thinking. Let’s go to the beauty supply up in Southshire and get some nice lotion and facial stuff, and we’ll make her feel pretty. What do you say?”

Smile wide, Isuzu got to her feet and grabbed her purse. “I say, let’s go.”

That evening after dinner, while Selma set up her sewing machine on one side of the kitchen, Abigail set up a swivel chair and her new hair supplies on the other, near the sink. There was a knock at the kitchen door and Isuzu came in with a leather satchel and a TV tray. “You tell them yet?” she whispered.

Finger to her lips, Abigail shook her head as she helped Isuzu unload and set up. That afternoon, they’d gone a little overboard at the beauty supply. Brooke had been so grateful for her pampering that they’d decided to do it for everyone. Abigail came home loaded down with specialty hair products for everyone in the household, and Isuzu had loaded up on nail supplies. They were both as giddy as children listening for Santa’s sleigh bells on Christmas Eve.

When they were ready, Abigail used a spoon to tap on the bottom of a saucepan.

“Excuse me!” she called over the sewing hubbub at the table, “May we have your attention please? The Doo Drop-In and Zu-Zu Nails are open again for business!”