Authors: Judith Pella
And for one blissful moment everything was real for Zack.
He wasn’t even sure what that meant, except he’d never had a kiss quite like this before—sweet but explosive, uncertain yet passionate.
“Reverend . . .” she murmured suddenly.
Then all reality, or lack thereof, was shattered. She was not kissing him at all. She was kissing William Locklin.
He jerked back until he was safely once more hugging the opposite arm of the sofa.
“I’m sorry.I forgot myself,” he said, forcing himself back into the role he was playing. Zack was not sorry at all. He would kiss her again given another chance, but he knew William L ocklin would be sorry for making such inappropriate advances.
“It’s not . . . you don’t . . .” she stammered, her cheeks pure red.
Zack did not enjoy her discomfort at all this time.
“I should go.” He sprang to his feet.
“But we haven’t discussed the Sunday school—”
“We don’t need to,” he said. “I’m sure whatever you want to do will be fine.”
“But it will cost five dollars for the materials.”
“I’ll get you the money,” he blurted just to make her happy, just to make a fast exit.
“But the deacons—”
Slowly, his mind began to work again. “Yes. Right.I ’ll bring it up to the deacons when they meet on Wednesday.”
“Reverend . . .” She rose.
Call me Zack, he wanted to say. “Yes?”
She took a few steps toward him. He could have reached out for her again.
“I wanted to kiss you,” she said.
He stared, and realizing his jaw had gone a bit slack, he snapped his mouth shut.
She went on, “It was hard to think of anything else, and I thought if we just got it over with . . . well,I don’t know. I didn’t think beyond that.”
That was exactly it, he now realized. He’d wanted to kiss her for the same reason, believing that once it was over and done with, he wouldn’t be so obsessed with thoughts of her. Now he could continue on with his plan, no longer distracted by her.
Suddenly something else occurred to him. “You kissed me?”
“I . . . uh . . . I thought so.”
“Well,I . . . just wanted to be sure. You see I’ve’ve never been kissed by a woman . . .
first
, you know.” He didn’t know if he’d been reprieved or was sinking deeper into an unfamiliar abyss.
“Now you thinkI’m brazen—”
“No, not at all. You had your reasons.I understand.I really must go.” He started to turn.
She grasped his arm. For a moment time seemed to stop. He looked down at her hand.I t felt warm even through the fabric of his suit. No, not just warm—hot like a branding iron. When he looked up again into her shimmering blue eyes, he knew he would kiss her again, but this time there would be no doubt as to who was doing the kissing.
“I fear you will no longer like me,” she said.
The creaking sound of the front door opening made them both freeze.
“Ma! I’m home! Where is everyone?” yelled Georgie.
“My brother’s home from school,” Ellie said needlessly.
Zack nodded. But before he turned once again to leave, he added, “I still like you, Ellie.” Then he spun around and fairly raced away.
“Hi’ya, Reverend!” Georgie said as they passed each other in the front room.
“Hi, Georgie,” Zack said, flinging open the door and continuing on his way.
“Hey, Reverend,I hear the fish are biting down at the pond.”
Zack kept walking. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of just then was that pond.
Ellie sat on the parlor sofa for some time before the trembling inside quieted. She had surely made an absolute fool of herself. Yes, Reverend L ocklin said he understood and didn’t think less of her, but what had she expected? That he point an accusing finger at her and shout, “Scarlet woman!”
His reaction confused her even more. He was so unlike one’s typical idea of a minister that she didn’t understand why she felt the way she did about him.
Finally she rose, picked up the tea tray, and left the parlor. Georgie was sitting at the table with a handful of cookies.
“Where is everybody?” he asked, chewing an oatmeal cookie.
“Mama’s in the garden; Maggie’s at the Arlingtons’; Dad is at the mill,” she replied in a perfunctory manner.
“What’s that you got? Is that shortcake?”
“Yes . . .” she replied, realizing she was speaking as if through a haze, but she couldn’t help it. She could only state the obvious, unable to think clearly.
“Oh, for Reverend Locklin.”
“We had company,” she said, not really hearing him.
“Hey, was the reverend paying court to you?”
Ellie blinked, the words finally nudging her back to reality. “No! Of course not!” she snapped. “We were just—I don’t have to answer all your questions.”
“This family gets stranger every day,” said Georgie. “Boyd is walking around with his head in the clouds. You are as touchy as a wet cat. Maggie is—” He stopped there, glanced toward the pile of school books on the table, and then said no more.
Ellie brought the tray to the sink. She poured the sugar from the china bowl back into the crock on the sideboard. She was about to put away the shortcake when Georgie took note.
“Hey, is that shortcake?” he asked again. “Doesn’t look like anyone even touched it.”
“No . . . we didn’t.”
Georgie shook his head. “Like I said, strange . . . very strange.” He reached for a piece.
She jerked away the dish. “You’ve had enough sweets.”
“Well, someone needs to eat it, since obviously the reverend didn’t like it.”
“He did so like me—I mean it—I mean—oh, take it!” She thrust the dish at him, and he took it without further argument. She then spun around and left the kitchen. Mama would not be happy that she hadn’t washed and put away her good china, but she’d do it later. Right now she had to be alone.
Upstairs in her room she went to the window seat and plopped down, curling her legs up under her. The window looked out on the yard with a perfect view of the willow. No surprise it made her think of the block she’d made for the welcome quilt. How carefully, and yes, almost lovingly she had stitched it. She had put so much effort into it for a stranger. And now that she knew the recipient? Now that she had actually kissed him, looked into the depths of his eyes—warm and kind eyes they were, too. For sure there was a spark of mischief in them, as perhaps no minister should have, and in spite of all she imagined she desired, she rather liked that. Besides, having looked so closely at him, into those eyes, she saw there was goodness in him. As her mother would say, at his heart he was good. Not good for a minister but good for a man. He could have laughed at her impulsive behavior or scorned her, but he had tried to make her feel better. Though he’d been clearly rattled himself, he’d made sure his last words to her had been an assurance that he still liked her.
Would she put as much care into a quilt block for him now? Oh yes!
She knew a kiss was only a kiss. She had kissed Colby Stoddard a couple of times, and she knew she did not love him.I n fact, she had tried very hard to love him, for he would have been a fine husband. She gave her head an ironic shake. She had tried as hard to love Colby as she was now trying
not
to love Reverend Locklin.
“Dear L ord,I am so confused,” she found herself praying. Only then did she realize how much she needed to give this situation to God. “I just don’t know what I want, or what I should want.” She remembered something. “I want to want what You want for me, Father. Please show me what you want and what I should do.”
Leaning her head against the glass pane, she drew close the sewing basket she kept on the window seat.I t was there for just this purpose. She liked to sit at the window and think—and she always thought better with sewing in her hands. She picked up one of her hexagon diamonds. The one she was currently working on needed a few more of the darker hexagons on the outside row to make it complete. There were about ten dark hexagons left. She’d soon have to cut more if she intended to make more diamonds. She loved this pattern and could see it as a special quilt upon the master bed. For that she’d need to make at least as many more as she already had. But she didn’t mind. As she had told ReverendL ocklin, she so enjoyed each new combination of fabrics that each block was a new adventure, one that had kept her interest for ten years. She had nearly fifty diamonds made.
Digging into the bottom of the basket she took out the very first diamond she had made.I t was of light blue and dark blue. Mama had made Easter dresses for her and Maggie of this material when they were young. Examining the diamond, Ellie could tell it had been done by an inexperienced quilter, though by then she had been stitching for four years. L ike most girls she had started serious sewing instruction at age five. Even at that, her work was not too bad, for even as a nine-year-old she’d had a steady, careful hand.
Picking up a new hexagon, which was already basted to paper, she laid it against the last hexagon of the diamond and, using a fine needle and fine thread, sewed them together with a tiny whip stitch. This diamond was green. Many other colors were also represented in the other diamonds. She called it her jewel-box quilt. When she had enough diamond shapes, she would connect them all with a light-colored fabric, probably muslin.
ReverendL ocklin thought her perseverance in working with this quilt indicated patience and faithfulness.I t was interesting how he had so quickly found the relation between stitching and life. She often saw that connection. Sometimes she thought she enjoyed patchwork so much because she could take plain, even worn, fabrics and put them together into such beautiful shapes. That was just what God did with His Church. Each individual part might not be perfect, but together they made something special.
Well, that might be a bit much, but Mama often used sewing to teach lessons about life, so there must be something to it.
Ellie was about to add the final hexagon to the diamond when the door burst open. She gave a start.
“Goodness, Maggie! You like to scare me to death,” Ellie scolded. “Can’t you knock first?”
“What? Knock on my own bedroom door? That’s a bit much even for you, Ellie.” Maggie gave the door a hard push, and it closed with a bang.
“How’d you get so dirty?” Ellie asked, noting that her sister was indeed nearly covered in grime.
“I wasn’t sitting by a window sewing all day. Working in a garden, in case you didn’t know, is dirty work.” As Maggie spoke she unfastened the straps of her overalls. “Louise is way behind in her garden. She only had a few rows of corn planted and beans. I got in squash and carrots and some turnips.”
“That was very nice of you,” Ellie commented.
“Nice? Mama forced me to go.” She slipped off her overalls and tossed them into a corner.
“Can’t you put them into the laundry hamper?”
“I’ll get to it later. Mama told me to change and get you so we can help with supper.” Maggie rummaged through one of the drawers in the dresser. “Those were my last clean overalls. Now I have to wear a skirt.”
“Good thing tomorrow is laundry day.”
“How come you got to escape up here in the middle of the day?” Maggie asked as she dressed.
Ellie shrugged. She supposed Maggie would eventually find out that Reverend L ocklin had been there. “We had company today.I was . . . uh . . . busy with that.”
“Who?”
“Reverend Locklin.”
“Really? I wish I ’d known. I wouldn’t have gone to Louise’s—”
“Well, we mostly had business to discuss—”
“With Dad? He isn’t even home yet—what do you mean, ‘we’?”
“I asked him to come so we could discuss my ideas about starting a Sunday school. That’s all.” Too late she realized her tone was overly defensive.
Maggie’s eyes narrowed with perplexity. “You invited him?” Suddenly her eyes sprang open. “And Mama got rid of me. Ain’t that convenient?”
“Now, settle down, Maggie—”
“Don’t you talk to me that way!” Maggie railed. “Like I was a child and you are my mother.I won’t have it!”
“I was not!”
“So did you change your mind again, Ellie? Now you’re going after William. Is that it?”
“It was just about Sunday school!” But she remembered the kiss and could not propel her argument with much force.
“You just have to have every fellow in town, don’t you?” sneered Maggie.
“No, it’s not that.I don’t want him,” Ellie protested, though lamely.
“Never mind! I don’t want to hear another word.I’m’m never speaking to you again!” Maggie spun around even as she was fastening the waistband of her skirt. She flung open the door and stormed out.
“Maggie!” Ellie called.
With a groan, Ellie let her head fall back against the window frame. What was she going to do now? If Maggie was this angry over a mere visit, what would she do if she knew Ellie had kissed the minister?
Maggie came tearing into the kitchen, truly like a storm unleashed, then came to a screeching halt. Ada, oblivious to all that had gone on upstairs, turned from the sink where she’d been paring potatoes.
“Maggie, was that you slamming the doors?” she asked. “Haven’t I told you a hundred times—?”
“I won’t have it from you, either!” Maggie cried. “I won’t have you treat me like a child, pushing me neatly aside so I won’t embarrass you when we have company.”
“Margaret Edith! I will not have you speak to me in that tone!”
But apparently Maggie was not ready to curb her anger. “Why should I respect you when you don’t respect me? How dare you get rid of me so Ellie could have the minister all to herself!”
“What are you talking about?” Ada’s stomach clenched as she began to understand very well what her daughter was getting at.
“Mama, tell me that you didn’t send me over toL ouise’s in order to get rid of me,” Maggie challenged.
“Well . . . you . . . ah . . . have it all wrong,” Ada stammered.
“Yes or no! Did you try to get rid of me?”
It was not a question Ada wanted to answer because, much to her shame, she knew the answer was yes. Unfortunately, she hesitated too long. Maggie had already yanked open the back door and was racing outside.