The Quilter's Daughter (18 page)

L
inda hummed as she stirred a kettle of homemade chicken gravy. The meal she prepared would be a surprise for Jim. She and Jimmy had been home from church about an hour, and Jim was still lounging in bed. She hoped the tantalizing aroma of fried chicken and biscuits would rouse him. She’d thought about sending Jimmy up to get his father but didn’t want to chance him snapping at the boy. Besides, Jimmy was playing happily in the backyard, and there was no point in disturbing him.

Linda was anxious to share her altar experience with Jim. Since she had confessed her sins and accepted Christ as her Savior, she felt like a new person.

If only Jim would find the Lord, I’m sure we could get our marriage back on track. Maybe I should speak to Rev. Deming about counseling with us. If we started going to church as a family, I know we’d be happier.

Jim sauntered into the room, halting Linda’s thoughts. “What’s cookin’? I could smell something all the way upstairs.”

She turned from the stove and offered him a smile. “I’ve made fried chicken, buttermilk biscuits, mashed potatoes, and your favorite gravy.”

“What’s the occasion? Most Sundays you usually fix something simple and quick.”

Linda turned down the stove burner and moved to his side. “I’m celebrating, Jim, and I wanted to fix your favorite meal in honor of the new me.”

Jim looked her up and down. “Same hairstyle. Same amount of makeup.” He squinted. “Is that a new outfit you’re wearing?”

She laughed and smoothed the skirt of her knee-length navy blue dress. “No, it’s not new, but I am.”

“I hate it when you talk in circles.” He pushed past her and headed for the refrigerator. “Is there any beer left?”

Linda slumped and turned back to the stove. Jim didn’t even want to know how or why she had changed. She could hear him rummaging around in the refrigerator, and she fought the urge to remind him that he sometimes drank too much and certainly shouldn’t be drinking so early in the day.

The refrigerator door slammed shut. “There’s no beer,” he grumbled. “Guess I’ll have to run to the store for more.”

She whirled around. “Now?”

Jim dragged his fingers through the back of his thick, dark hair. Hair that she used to enjoy running her own fingers through. “Any objections?” he snarled.

Linda knew they would only argue if she mentioned how uneasy she felt whenever he drank. “Could you wait until after dinner to go to the store?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. How soon will it be ready?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll hang around ’til after we eat.” Jim gave her an odd look. “Say, there
is
something different about you today. Are you sure you didn’t change your makeup or buy a new dress?”

She moved to his side and touched his arm, glad when he didn’t recoil. “When I said I was new, I meant I’ve found Christ.”

Jim’s eyebrows lifted, and his mouth turned up at the corners. “I didn’t realize He was missing.”

Linda stiffened and fought the urge to say something catty in return. “No, Jim, Christ isn’t missing. He’s very much alive— right here.” She placed her hand against her chest.

He shook his head. “Have you lost it, or what?”

“No, I’ve found it. I’ve found the Lord Jesus as my personal Savior.”

“What’s He saving you from? I didn’t know you were lost, Linda.”

“I knelt at the altar this morning and asked Jesus to forgive my sins.”

He stared at her, and his expression was stony. “Your sins, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“Have you done something bad, Linda?”

Was he mocking her? Linda closed her eyes, praying for the right words. When she opened them a few seconds later, her courage was renewed. “During church today, the pastor spoke about disappointments in life.”

Jim grunted. “He’s right about that. There’s a ton of ’em!”

“Rev. Deming said we’re all faced with disappointments, but God can help us through them if we know Him personally.”

He held up his hand. “That’s enough, Linda. If I’d wanted a sermon today, I would have gone to church or turned on the TV and listened to one of those boring televangelists.”

Tears clouded Linda’s vision as her gaze dropped to the floor.
Help me, Lord. Help me make him understand.

Jim pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table. “Cut out the ‘poor little Linda’ routine. Your tears and pathetic looks don’t work on me anymore.”

“I’m not trying to get my way on anything. I just wanted to share my newfound faith, and I’d hoped you might consider going to church with me and Jimmy next week.”

Jim’s fist came down hard on the table, scattering several napkins to the floor and clattering the silverware Linda had placed on the table earlier. “If you need religion in order to get through the disappointments in life, then go to church all you want. Just don’t expect me to follow like an obedient puppy.”

With a heavy heart, Linda shuffled back to the stove. She’d been foolish to believe that because she had changed, Jim might consider her request to attend church.

Give him time,
a voice in her head seemed to say.
Pray for your husband and set a good example.

She swallowed around the constriction in her throat.
I’ll try, Lord, but I’m going to need Your help.

Abby placed a plastic tub filled with warm water on the kitchen
table. It was time for the babies’ baths. First she would give Titus his bath, and then Mom would dress him while she washed Timothy. While Abby dressed that baby, Mom would feed Titus. The routine seemed easy enough, but both boys were howling in their cradles across the room. Mom had gone upstairs to change clothes, because she’d spilled a glass of goat’s milk all over the front of her dress, leaving Abby alone to begin the twins’ baths. The only problem was, she couldn’t decide which infant to bathe first.

She leaned down and scooped Titus into her arms. At least she thought it was Titus. Abraham had removed their wristbands last night, saying he thought they might become too tight as the babies continued to grow. He’d also said he could tell the boys apart, pointing out the fact that Timothy’s right eye was slightly smaller than his left eye, while Titus’s looked to be about the same size.

Abby squinted at the twins, still kicking their feet and waving their arms like a windmill. To her, it looked like both boys’ eyes were the same size. She picked Titus up, and his crying abated, but as soon as she placed him on the oversized towel she had spread on the table and began to remove his sleepers, the howling began again. To make matters worse, the other twin was still crying, too.

“I hope your mamm comes downstairs soon,” Abby crooned. She hurried through the bathing process, anxious to get Titus back in his cradle so she could wash Timothy. She had no sooner carried baby number one across the room than a knock sounded at the back door.

Abby placed Titus in his cradle and hurried to answer the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to see Cousin Edna on the porch, looking thinner than ever. The last thing she’d heard was that Edna had the achy-bones flu and wouldn’t be coming over this week. From the looks of the dark circles that rimmed her pale blue eyes, she figured the woman should be home in bed.

Abby glanced over her shoulder at the wailing babies. She knew it would be rude not to invite Edna in, but she didn’t want
to chance the twins getting sick if Edna was still contagious. “Um. . .we didn’t expect you this week.”

Edna pushed the door fully open and strolled past Abby. “I’m feeling some better, so I thought I’d come by and see if you needed any help today.”

“I think Mom and I can manage on our own all week. Mary Ann’s here, too. She’s gone out to the chicken coop to check for eggs.”

“The bopplin are crying.” Edna started across the room. “How come they’re howlin’ like that? Do they need to be fed or have their windels changed?”

“I just gave Titus a bath, so he has clean diapers,” Abby replied.

“Even so, it never hurts to check. I remember when my twins were little. They went through so many diapers every day, and it seemed like all I did was wash baby clothes.” Edna moved closer to the twins, but Mom’s shrill voice stopped her as she stepped into the room.

“What are you doin’ here, Cousin?”

Edna whirled around. “Came over to help. What do ya think?”

Mom clucked her tongue. “I think you look tired and pale, and I’ll not have my favorite cousin havin’ a relapse on my account.” She brushed past Abby and took hold of Edna’s bony arm. “Now you get on back home where you can rest. I insist.”

Abby held her breath and waited to see what would happen next. To her amazement, Edna nodded and headed for the back door. “You’re right, Fannie. I do feel a bit weak and shaky yet. Probably would be best if I waited ’til next week to offer my assistance.”

“Abby and I will manage, but I appreciate your comin’ by,” Mom said as she followed her cousin outside to the porch.

Abby chuckled softly and moved over to the twins. She was surprised Mom had been able to convince Edna, who clearly had a mind of her own, to go home. She glanced over at the babies and was pleased to see that Titus had settled down and was sucking contentedly on his fist. Timothy, on the other hand,
was still howling like there was no tomorrow. “There now, little guy. You’ll feel better once we get those dirty windels off and you’re all cleaned up.” She placed the baby in the center of the quilt, quickly undressed him, and was surprised to see that his diaper was clean and dry. “Guess you’re not as messy as your twin brother was this morning.”

Abby had just finished bathing and dressing Timothy, when her mother returned to the kitchen. “That cousin of mine is such a character. She kept tellin’ one joke after the other, and I finally had to remind her that I was needed inside. Sure hope she doesn’t have a relapse by comin’ over here today.”

Abby placed Timothy in his cradle, noting that Titus was fussing again. “I only hope she didn’t expose you or the twins to that flu bug she’s had.”

“Since I’m nursing, that’s supposed to help the babies’ immune system. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Mom moved to Abby’s side. “Did you get them both bathed?”

“Jah. Now I think they’d like to be fed.”

Mom bent down and scooped Titus into her arms. “Eww. . .he feels wet. Didn’t you say you bathed and changed him already?”

“I did, but—” A light suddenly dawned, and Abby broke into the giggles. “You know what, Mom?”

“What’s that?”

“I think I may have bathed Titus twice. The boppli you’re holding is probably Timothy, and he’s most likely wet through his clothes because he hasn’t been bathed or changed at all.”

Mom grinned and handed Abby the baby. “Guess you’d better see to that while I feed Titus.”

“Good idea,” Abby agreed. “And afterwards, I believe we should put on our thinking caps and come up with some way to tell these two apart.”

J
im gripped his paintbrush and swiped it across the wood siding of the house he’d been hired to paint.

“Hey, Boss, you’d better watch what you’re doing,” Ed called from several feet away. “You’re sloppin’ paint all over the place this morning, and we’ll end up with a mess to clean up if you’re not careful.”

“Let me worry about that,” Jim snapped.

“Sorry, but you’ve been so testy lately, and it’s beginning to show in your work.”

Jim gritted his teeth. “If you had to put up with my wife, you’d be testy, too.”

Ed moved closer to Jim. “What’s the trouble?”

“Linda flipped out a couple weeks ago and went religious on me. Even suggested the two of us start seeing her preacher for some
Christian
counseling.” Jim dipped his brush into the bucket and slapped another round of paint on the siding in front of him.

“Why does she believe you need counseling?”

“Guess she thinks if she gets me into that Bible-thumper’s office he’ll talk me into going to church with her and Jimmy.”

“You got somethin’ against church?”

Jim shrugged. “Not church per se, just the hypocrites who sit in the pews.”

Ed flipped the end of his mustache. “Guess there’s hypocrites nearly everywhere.”

“Are you saying I’m a hypocrite?”