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Authors: Tricia Goyer

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BOOK: Sewn with Joy
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Twenty-Six

True compassion brings action.

A
MISH PROVERB

T
he next day's shooting wasn't as bad as she expected. Joy shot one scene with Alicia and another with her pretend father as they packed up their things and headed back to Ohio. They just needed her there long enough to introduce Alicia's new love interest in the show. Jonathan was the tall blond man who interacted with Joy in her first scene. Jonathan was both his real name and the name they used for the show.

“I grew up in Indiana. I was around Amish people all the time,” Jonathan confessed as the whole cast and crew ate dinner together that evening.

“Oh, really? My aunt lives in Shipshewana,” Joy commented. “She's my favorite aunt, and I gave her the first quilt I ever made.” Joy chuckled. “I wonder if she kept it. I'm sure she has it tucked away somewhere around there. I must have been nine years old at the time. It was a good try even if it wasn't pretty.”

Kristen eyed her curiously. “You made a quilt when you were nine years old? I feel like a slacker. I was excited when I sewed a button back on my shirt last month!”

Joy laughed and then turned to Jonathan. “My Aunt Martha
is a wonderful person, and I love to visit her house. Her scrap closet especially.”

“Her scrap closet?” he asked.

“Yes, when it comes to fabric she doesn't throw anything away. She collects all the scraps from the items she sews. She gathers scraps up from every sewing frolic she attends.” In her mind's eye Joy remembered her aunt's sewing room, the numerous bins of fabrics separated by color and size of scraps. “She even uses tiny scraps to make fabric beads for the small girls in their family to string together.”

Alicia seemed to be listening to the conversation but didn't comment. She pushed her food around on her plate, and Joy wondered what she was thinking about. Maybe the next scene? Was she just trying to be polite by sitting quietly as she listened?

“I have one of Aunt Martha's quilts on my bed,” Joy added. “I don't need it for warmth, but it's beautiful, and it reminds me that with God, nothing goes to waste. Every experience—good or bad—contributes to our lives. Sometimes we don't understand why things happen the way they do, but when all the scraps are stitched together they become a beautiful mosaic.”

“I've always wanted to learn to do that.” Alicia sighed. “It's so amazing that someone can take all these random pieces and put them together to create something beautiful.”

Joy turned to her friend. “Quilting isn't hard. I can show you.”

Alicia sat up straighter and pushed her paper plate to the side. “Show me?”

“Sure. I have one I'm piecing together out of scraps of fabric. It's supposed to be my sister's wedding quilt, but it will be for her first anniversary at the rate I'm going. If you'd like to come by sometime we can finish piecing it together.”

Alicia's face was pink with excitement. “I would love that.” She
opened a hand and placed it over her heart. They sat there talking longer about the types of quilts and patterns until one by one the rest of those who'd been sitting near them got up and left.

“I never thought I'd be doing this—learning to cook, to quilt. It's almost as if I'm a whole new person.”

“Don't be so dramatic.” A voice carried from down the hall. Footsteps sounded, and Rowan rounded the corner and entered the kitchen area. He locked eyes with Alicia.

Alicia's brow furrowed. “And what is that supposed to mean—don't be so dramatic?”

Rowan looked tired. It had been a long day—a long few weeks—and it was starting to show. “You know what it means, Alicia. You're good at playing parts, stepping into roles. That's what makes you a good actress.”

“You're saying that I'm doing all of this because of my role? Spending time with Joy, cooking, quilting?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingertips, as if her question gave him a headache. “Of course. You don't really think you're going to return to LA and host a sewing frolic, do you? It's fun seeing you like this though. It's a softer side of Ali I haven't seen.” He opened his eyes and focused on her again.

Ali?

Alicia's eyebrows folded at this nickname, and Joy could almost see the resolve slip from her face. Anger stirred within Joy. Didn't Rowan see what he was doing to her—trying to shove her into a box? Trying to trample all the ways she was attempting to change? Trying to discourage all the ways she was trying to grow?

“Do you know what I love about quilt making?” Joy interrupted. “Taking old scraps, piecing them together. Making something new, something useful, something beautiful. I like to think that's what God does with all our lives, don't you? He sees the
beauty in things we thought were just scraps, and He pieces them together in ways we can't imagine.”

Rowan eyed Joy, overtly agitated. “You aren't buying into this are you, Joy? I've known Alicia a long time. We were married, together for five years.”

Married?
Joy gasped. Now it all made sense. How they seemed to know each other so well yet also tended to keep each other at arm's length.

“So basically what I'm saying, Joy, is that you can teach Alicia how to quilt, but don't think she's really changing into Betty Crocker. And you can teach her how to pray and read the Bible, but she'll never be a Mother Teresa. I'm tired of working with pretenders.” His face contorted with anger, and then his eyes widened in surprise at his own words. Without another word he turned and stalked toward the door.

“That's not cool, Rowan!” Alicia's voice rose, calling after him. “Maybe I deserve to be treated like that, but Joy doesn't. Some Christian you are!” She pointed at him, but with his back turned he couldn't see her. “Sure, go ahead and walk away. You're good at that.”

Joy reached over and touched Alicia's arm. “Don't let him get to you.”

“That's easy for you to say. You don't know him—the power he has in this industry.” Her face fell as if her briefest hopes had been extinguished. “You also don't know what I was like in LA—what I'm really like. I think you'd be shocked.”

Joy nodded, and her mind thought about some of the tabloid headlines she'd read before. “Believe it or not, I have a good imagination. And I've been schooled at the checkout line.” She reached over and took Alicia's hand. “But I also know who I see—who you really are. Rowan is right. You're a good actress, but I
honestly feel your life in LA is where you've been playing a part.” Joy released a long breath. “Don't let him do this to you. Don't let him—them—put you in a box anymore. God has so much planned for you. Great things you can't even imagine.”

How many times had Elizabeth said that to her? More than she could count, and while she somehow believed it for Alicia, Joy couldn't picture that for herself. Not anymore.

Tears filled Alicia's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She jutted out her chin and focused on the door Rowan had just walked through. “I want to trust God. I want to change, and I'm trying. But I honestly would like to learn to quilt, no matter what my estranged husband says.”

“Well then, I'd like to teach you. Would you like to come to my house tonight?”

“What about you coming to my place?”

“Your place?”

“I'm staying at a hotel overlooking the ocean. It's only a fifteen-minute drive. I have a rental car now. I'll drive you over and then take you home later. You can bring all your things.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ja.”
Alicia chuckled. “I mean, yes, I'm sure. I don't mind at all. It'll be fun. It's something to look forward to.”

Joy's mind was filled with thoughts about quilting and about going to Alicia's hotel, so she didn't notice Matthew standing on her porch until she'd already walked through her front gate. He was wearing his work clothes, and he looked disheveled, as if he'd just run across town to make it before she got there. Matthew's lips were chapped, and his face was flushed. There was a weariness
about him that Joy hadn't seen before. She thought about the time she'd spent with him in his shop. The joy she'd seen on his face then was gone.

His eyes widened when he saw her. One eyebrow cocked up saucily, along with the corners of his mouth. “Joy, it's so
gut
to see you.” He took two steps to her and then paused. “You look wonderful. I…I've missed seeing you.”

She nodded and bit her lower lip, not knowing what to say. “I've missed seeing you too, and I've missed our talks. How's work, and…Have you had time to work on those recipe boxes?” It felt silly to offer up small talk when she had so much she wanted to say, wanted to know. But that's all she could offer. The pain of his silence still pricked her heart.

“Ne.”
He lowered his head. “I've just been busy on my construction job. And even though I've tried not to think of you, it's been very hard not to. I've been so angry with you—angry about the choices you've made.” He pulled off his straw hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “And it was only last night that
Mem
told me what was happening, why you chose what you did. She explained about the treatments your
dat
needs—about his failing health. And as soon as she told me I realized you had tried to tell me those things.”

His voice lowered. His face softened. “The day I went to the fabric shop, you wanted to go to Big Olaf's to talk. I thought talking would make things worse—that you'd just try to justify your actions. I thought I was doing the right thing. I believed by staying away from you, you'd realize you were wrong. That you'd quit.”

“And now?” she asked.

“Now I know I've made a horrible mistake. I'm so—”

“Shh.” She covered his lips with her fingertips. Touching him caused a warm sensation to run down the length of her arm. “You
don't have to explain. I grew up this way. I know how things work. I understand what it means to shun someone—if not technically, at least make them feel like an outcast.”

Emotion filled his eyes. “It's not what I wanted. I never wanted it to be like this.”


Ne.
Of course you didn't.”

“Joy, it hurts me to know I'm bringing you pain,” he said in a gruff voice. He swallowed hard.

Before she could stop herself, Joy stepped forward and offered him a hug. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, she could feel the thrum of his heartbeat for only a second. Was it breaking like hers?

“I'm thankful for this job—for the money my
dat
…” She couldn't say more. She couldn't pretend that was the only reason she was still on the set, but how could she explain?

Joy released her grasp. Matthew held on to her for a few seconds more before he let her step back.

“But things are different now.” Matthew's face brightened. He stepped back too, to get a better view of her face. “
Mem
told me the church will be helping with your
dat
's expenses now. I'm just so sorry you felt you had to carry that burden alone. Everything will be better, you'll see.”

BOOK: Sewn with Joy
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