“Jah, we girls will be having our own little party,” the other twin chimed in. “We wouldn’t dream of crowding you ladies who truly enjoy quilting.”
Leah bit back a smile at the way Alice and Adeline had responded just within the bounds of proper courtesy. Esther was heavyset, and her protruding backside was often the subject of quiet jokes folks made when she passed by.
“Matter of fact, we’re all here except for Margaret,” Lenore said graciously. “We might as well head into the front room so you can choose the side of the frame you’d prefer to sit on, in case anyone else is a leftie, like I am.”
“That would be me,” Martha Maude remarked with a chuckle. “I’m ready for some coffee and to get to work on your quilt!”
Jude’s mother bustled inside at last, appearing flummoxed as she handed Lenore a covered bowl. “This was supposed to be a coconut cream pie in a shortbread crust, but the filling didn’t set,” she said woefully. “It was such a mess, I poured it into a bowl and chopped the crust into the pudding. We’ll just have to call it a trifle.”
“If there’s coconut in it, it has to be tasty!” Lenore assured Margaret as she carried the bowl to the refrigerator.
“You can be sure I’ll eat my share of it,” Esther remarked jovially as she held her coffee cup under the urn’s spigot.
Leah was relieved that everyone migrated into the front room without needing any prompting from her. Gatherings like these reminded her how socially inept she was compared to most women who’d attended and hosted frolics all their lives. She plucked a bottle of goat’s milk from the pan of hot water on the stove and followed her guests with Betsy cradled against her shoulder, determined to make the best of this event for Mama’s sake.
The ladies made a beeline for the quilting frame, and their compliments made Mama glow modestly.
“Lenore, what a beautiful color combination!” Cora exclaimed.
“And what a wonderful way to use scraps, instead of just piecing a nine-square pattern,” Anne said as she ran her finger over the design. “Where each of the four joined squares form a pinwheel, the design seems to move when you look at it.”
“I hope you’ll let us copy your pattern,” Martha Maude said, leaning closer to the frame so she could study the quilt top more closely. “I’ve never seen this one, and we have bins and boxes of scraps at home we could use.”
Esther wasted no time settling herself into the largest chair while her sister studied the quilt with a critical eye. “Mighty showy, with all those bright colors and prints,” Naomi remarked. “Surely can’t be for a Plain home.”
Mama appeared unfazed by this comment. “The English lady who ordered it provided the print pieces and asked me to make her quilt very colorful,” she explained as she took the spot beside Martha Maude. “She says it’s a gift for a niece who’ll go off to college next fall.”
As the other ladies took seats around the quilting frame, Jude passed through the front room with Stevie beside him. He flashed a thumbs-up sign at Leah before stopping to look at the quilt the women would be working on. “Very cheerful,” he commented before greeting each of the ladies. “I recognize fabric from some of the new clothes Lenore has made us.”
“Jah, there’s my new green shirt—and my new purple shirt!” Stevie chimed in as he pointed excitedly to pieces near the edge. “This would make a real nice blanket for the new goats, ain’t so, Mammi Lenore?” he teased.
Mama laughed as she threaded her quilting needle. “It would,” she agreed, “but don’t go telling the goats about it, or they’ll feel bad when I take it to the lady who ordered it.”
“No auction today, Jude?” Margaret asked as she clipped thread. “Friday’s usually a big day for sales.”
“Nope, so we men are going to make a few repairs in the barns and outbuildings,” Jude replied. “I can tell there’ll be a whole lot of clucking going on here in the house.”
“Jah! Bwahk-bwahk-bwahhhk!” Stevie crowed, flapping his bent arms like wings.
“That’s what hen parties and frolics are all about,” Lenore said as she rumpled the boy’s hair. “You’ll probably want to stop through the kitchen for a few goodies before you head outside. Might not be any left when you come in for lunch.”
Leah sat down in the wooden rocking chair and gave Betsy her bottle, delighting in the way the baby ate with such gusto. Maybe it was her imagination, but lately Betsy seemed to recognize her—to reach excitedly with her dimpled arms. Or maybe she’s just hungry and ready for her bottle, Leah reasoned as she smiled at the baby and rocked. It’s nice to have someone who’s so happy to be with me . . . who needs me.
Across the front room, the girls were seated around a rectangular folding table to play a game of Yahtzee. Leah was pleased to see that Emma and Lucy Miller were helping five-year-old Gracie, who sat between them.
The women at the quilting frame talked quietly, focused on making their tiny white stitches along the swirling lines Mama had stenciled on the quilt top. As Leah burped the baby and sang softly to her, she had to agree with the girls: quilting seemed like such a tedious way to pass a day, even though the end result was always beautiful. As little Betsy drifted off, Leah smoothed her silky brown curls. Like most Plain babies, she was able to ignore the noise around her—even the repeated rattling of the Yahtzee dice in the cardboard cup, as well as the occasional cry of “Yahtzee!” when one of the girls rolled all five dice alike.
Leah glanced at the clock, sighing inwardly. The ladies had been quilting less than an hour, yet already she felt unsettled and somewhat bored. On a normal day,
