The Healing Quilt (22 page)

Well, enough with the reminiscing
, B.J. told himself.
I came here to paint, not dwell on the past
.

“Hey, isn’t that B.J. from the quilting class over there on that bench?” Jan asked as he and Kim, leading Maddie on her leash, made their way across the white sandy beach.

She shielded her eyes and looked in the direction Jan was pointing. “You’re right. That is B.J. It looks like he’s painting something. See that easel in front of him?”

Jan nodded. “Should we go say hi?”

“I don’t know. Do you think he’d mind if we interrupted him?”

“Guess we might disrupt his concentration,” Jan said. “But what if he sees us over here and thinks we’re snubbing him?”

“You’re right. We don’t want to be unsociable,” Kim responded. “Besides, I’d kinda like to see what he’s painting.”

“Same here. Let’s go on over then.”

As they approached B.J., Maddie started pulling on her leash.

“All right, girl, but don’t run off too far.” Kim bent down and unhooked the leash from the dog’s collar.

Jan snickered as Maddie let out an excited bark and dashed into the water. Kim would be lucky if she ever got the dog back on her leash.

“I see we’re not the only ones from our class who enjoys this beach,” Kim said, stepping up to B.J. “It’s nice to see you today.”

He smiled up at her and then nodded at Jan. “I heard you two talking yesterday about going to the beach, but I thought you planned to do that after class,” he said.

“Oh, we did.” Kim smiled at Jan. “We enjoyed it so much, we decided to come back again today after church.”

“It’s a good day to be here,” B.J. said with a nod. “Nice and warm, with just a slight breeze. It’s a perfect opportunity to get some painting done.”

Jan studied the painting, already in progress. The ocean scene featured seagulls swooping close to the waves, and a couple of boats on the horizon. “You do nice work,” he said, gesturing to the easel.

B.J. smiled. “I did an ocean scene from my studio in Chicago, but it’s much better to paint here by the water. I think it helps to put more feeling into my work.”

“It’s beautiful.” Kim looked closely at the painting. “I can almost feel the spray from the waves you’ve painted. You captured everything perfectly.”

“Thanks. I do my best.”

Jan was tempted to bring up the topic of Noreen, and what had gone down at the quilting class yesterday but thought better of it. It was none of his business, and if B.J. wanted to talk about it, he would.

From the choice words coming from Noreen before she’d stormed out of the Millers’ house, Jan figured B.J. must have done something pretty bad.
Guess everyone has said or done something in the past that they’re not proud of
, he thought.
I know I’ve done my fair share of flubbing things. I have to wonder, though—if what B.J. did was so bad, why didn’t Noreen stick around to discuss it with him? It’ll be interesting to see if she shows up for class this Saturday. Well, I’m gonna be there, that’s for sure. Not to see what goes down between B.J. and Noreen, but so I can spend more time with Kim
.

H
ow are things in North Dakota?” Mike asked as he sat in the living room Friday evening, talking to his wife on the phone. Mike was all settled in his easy chair and breathed deeply the aroma of the coffee he’d just brewed. With the TV on mute, he used the remote to flip through the channels, not really paying attention to what was on the screen, trying to focus on what Phyllis was saying.

“A little better than the last time we talked. It’s not snowing right now, and it’s good to have the power on again. Even though Penny has that backup generator, it’s nice to have everything running off the main grid again.” After a pause, Phyllis said, “How are things with you?”

“Okay.” Mike gnawed on his lower lip, contemplating whether to tell his wife that he’d seen the doctor and gotten the results of his blood test. Would it be best to tell her now or wait until she got home? If he told her now she would worry about him. If he waited to tell her the news, she’d be upset. It was a no-win situation. He’d rather face a group of disappointed fisherman than explain his issues to Phyllis.

“Mike, are you still there?”

“Uh, yeah. Just thinking is all.”

“About what?”

“Umm…there’s something I need to tell you.” He pointed the remote, turning off the TV, then reached for his coffee cup, blowing on the steam still rising from it.

“What is it, Mike?”

“I’ve been having a little problem lately, so I went to see the doctor last week, and—”

“What? And you’re just now getting around to telling me that?” Phyllis’s voice rose. “What’s wrong, Mike? Have you been sick?”

“No, not really. Well, kind of, I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve felt kind of weird and shaky lately. So I finally went to see the doctor, and he had me go in for some blood tests. I got the results yesterday.”

“You got the results a day ago, and you’re just now telling me about it?” Mike winced when he heard the frustration in Phyllis’s voice.

“Calm down, honey,” he said, trying to keep his own voice composed. “I knew if I told you that, I’d get this reaction.”

“So you figured it’d be best not to tell me at all?”

“That’s not it. I just didn’t want to worry you, Phyllis, especially while you’re helping your sister.”

“Well, it’s too late for that, because I am worried. What was the outcome of your tests?”

“I have pre-diabetes, but—”

“Diabetes? Oh, Mike, no!”

He grimaced. “I wish you’d stop interrupting and let me tell you everything the doctor said.”

“Sorry. I’m listening.”

“I don’t have full-blown diabetes yet. According to the blood tests, I’m in the early stages, and the doctor seems to think that if I exercise regularly and watch my diet I may never get to the place where I have to take pills or insulin shots.”

She blew out her breath. “That’s a relief. You really had me worried. Of course, you’ll have to follow through and do as the doctor said.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s gonna be hard for me to give up sweets, though.”

“There are many delicious desserts made with sugar-free ingredients,” she said. “When I get home, I’ll try a few recipes and see what you like. In the meantime, promise me that you’ll be good and eat right.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“I’m serious, Mike.”

“I know, hon, and I promise to toe the mark.”

“So how’s the quilt class going?” she asked, her tone relaxing some.

“Fine. Some big biker fella who’s a friend of the Millers joined us last week. Guess he took one of their classes up in Shipshewana, Indiana.”

Phyllis snickered. “I can’t picture Emma and Lamar becoming friends with a biker.”

“It was a surprise to me as well, but those two are the nicest people. I think they could be friends with anyone—except maybe some hardened criminal who nobody could reach.”

“Just from my first meeting with Emma and Lamar, it wouldn’t surprise me if, were they ever to meet such a person, they’d try to reach out to him in kindness.”

Mike laughed. “You could be right about that.”

“Thanks for the ride,” Lamar told their driver when he dropped them off at Jennifer and Randy’s place that evening. “We’ll give you a call when we’re ready to come home.”

“Oh, let’s not forget the box of food we have in the trunk,” Emma said as she stepped out of the car. They’d filled the box with flour, sugar, cereal, bread, eggs, pasta, milk, and several packages of meat. She hoped Randy and Jennifer would graciously accept their gift.

Lamar lifted the box, and they headed up the porch stairs. Emma reached out to knock, but the door swung open before her knuckles connected with the wood.

“It’s good to see you. Please, come in.” Jennifer greeted them with a cheery smile.

“Since you wouldn’t let us bring anything to contribute to the meal, we brought you this,” Lamar said as they followed Jennifer into the house.

“What is it?” she questioned.

“Just a few more items of food we thought you could use.” Emma smiled. “And please don’t say no, because we have plenty of food in our pantry, and we surely don’t want to take this box home.”

“We appreciate your thoughtfulness; isn’t that right, Randy?” Jennifer asked, gesturing to the box after her husband stepped into the room.

He shook hands with Emma and Lamar, then looked into the box. “You’re giving us more food?”

Lamar nodded. “It’s just a little something to help out.”

Randy hesitated but finally nodded. “Thanks, we appreciate it.”

“While Randy takes the box to the kitchen, why don’t the rest of us go into the living room so we can visit before supper’s ready?” Jennifer suggested, holding the small of her back as she led the way to the other room.

Emma and Lamar took a seat on the couch, and Jennifer sat in the rocking chair across from them, rubbing her stomach.

“You look tired, Jennifer. How has your week been going?” Emma asked, feeling concern.

Jennifer patted her ever-growing stomach. “This little girl has been pretty active lately, and I’m not sleeping as well as I should.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma said. “How much longer until the baby comes?”

“Just four more weeks, unless I’m late.” Jennifer gave her stomach a couple more pats. “I think our baby is anxious to be born, because she seems to be kicking all the time.”

“Some babies can be pretty active,” Emma said. “I remember when I was expecting my daughter, Mary, she often got the hiccups, and it would wake me during the night.”

“I just checked the oven, and supper’s ready,” Randy said, joining them in the living room. “I hope you folks like enchiladas.”

“Can’t say that I’ve ever had them,” Lamar spoke up. “But I’m willing to try anything.”

Emma and Lamar rose from their seats and followed Jennifer and Randy into the small but cozy dining room. Emma could see that Jennifer had set the table with her best china, and a pretty floral centerpiece sat in the middle of the table.

After they all took seats, Lamar said, “At home, Emma and I usually offer a silent prayer, but here in your house we’d be pleased if you prayed out loud.”

Jennifer glanced at Randy, and his ears turned red. “Uh, yeah, well…Jennifer, why don’t you pray for the meal?”

Jennifer fingered her napkin. Emma wasn’t sure whether this young couple felt uncomfortable praying in front of others, or if they normally didn’t pray before a meal, but she sensed the awkwardness of the moment. To ease the tension, she quickly said, “Or maybe you’d prefer that we all pray silently instead.”

“No, it’s fine; I’ll pray for the meal,” Jennifer said. After everyone bowed their heads, she prayed in a soft-spoken voice, “Dear Lord, I thank You for this food, and for the hands that prepared it. I also want to thank Emma and Lamar, who have been patiently teaching me to quilt and generously gave us some food. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

When everyone opened their eyes, Jennifer passed the tossed green salad around the table, followed by the dish of enchiladas.

“This certainly smells good,” Emma said, spooning some of the Mexican dish onto her plate.

“You’re right about that,” Lamar agreed. “And if it tastes as good as it smells, I think we’re in for a treat.”

While Emma poured some dressing over her salad, Lamar took a bite of enchilada. As he chewed, his face, neck, and ears turned red. Coughing, he quickly reached for his glass of water.

“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked, looking at Lamar with concern. “Did you swallow incorrectly, or is it too spicy for you?”

Gasping for breath, Lamar croaked, “It—it’s hotter than anything I’ve ever tasted.”

Jennifer took a taste, then quickly spit it back onto the plate. Her forehead wrinkled as she looked sternly at Randy. “What did you do to the enchiladas? They’re hotter than a blazing furnace!”

Randy’s brows furrowed. “I–I don’t know what happened. Thought I’d poured just the right amount of picante sauce over the top of them. And it was the mild kind, not hot.”

“I’ve never tasted anything this hot that’s supposed to be mild.” Jennifer grabbed her glass of water and took a drink.