Sewn with Joy (11 page)

“I do remember. I hope you found the place all right.” She extended a hand to the young woman. “I'm Joy.” She glanced behind her. “The bus has just arrived with friends and family from up north. It's like a family reunion.” The woman looked familiar, but Joy wasn't sure why.

“It looks like we arrived just in time,” she said, offering a smile. “I'm Alicia.”

The man's smile was brilliant as he scanned the group. He placed a hand on the woman's bare shoulder. “Alicia is one of the actresses here. She's part of the television show we're filming.” His voice boomed. “I would ask you if you've seen some of her other projects, but we all know that's not allowed, don't we?”

The voices around them stilled, and the expressions on the crowd's faces darkened. The joy of the moment slipped behind cautious masks. They didn't trust this man and didn't like that he'd interrupted their reunion. Joy glanced at the faces of the older gentlemen and saw more than one furrowed brow. It was clear that most people felt the same as the women at her sewing frolic. The atmosphere of the gathering turned icy despite the bright sunshine outside.

The woman, Alicia, saw it too. Her smile slipped away and she pushed the man's hand from her shoulder. “Maybe we should leave these wonderful people to their reunion. Didn't you promise me pie? I see the sign for Me, Myself, and Pie just across the street.”

Joy didn't hear the man's response. Instead, she felt the softest touch on her arm, and a cold chill traveled up. She looked to Matthew, and anger tightened his face into a scowl. Joy took a step back. She'd never seen him like that. Fear struck within her. A cold fear that cascaded over her, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms and her heart to lurch. He was angry with her. For what? For the interruption? For not telling him more about her interaction with the
Englischer
? Maybe both.

“The other night?” Matthew mouthed only loud enough for her to hear.

Joy didn't want to explain. Not here, not now.

She turned back to the
Englischer
. “I, uh, hope you enjoy your, uh, work in Pinecraft,” Joy commented, and then she glanced
back over her shoulder in the direction of her cousins. “I'm going to help my cousins get settled in.”

The smile on the man's face faded. “Yes, of course.”

Joy turned, wondering what to do, what to say. She hoped they weren't going to say anything. Weren't going to follow her. She also hoped Matthew wasn't going to ask too many questions, especially about her giving the man directions.

She moved to help Rosella with her suitcase, and when she turned around Matthew wasn't following. He still wore an angry expression as he watched the man and woman strolling away. Joy released the handle to the suitcase and hurried back to Matthew. “I'm so sorry. I forgot you have to leave. I hope you enjoy your time at work.”

“
Ja
,
danke
.” His words were simple, and she missed the warm smile from earlier that day.

“Do you think we can catch up after work?”

“Maybe.” Matthew licked his dry lips. “I've taken an extra-long lunch. I might need to work late.”

“I understand.” She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his arm, to reassure him. She resisted the urge to explain. He wouldn't like it if she did.

Rosella moved with slow, unobtrusive steps, clasping her hands together. “I think we're ready.”

“I'll see you later then, Joy.” Matthew turned and walked back in the direction of his house, most likely to get his tools. He looked both sad and angry, even from behind.

The bright summer sun overhead now seemed too overbearing. The ache of disappointing Matthew spread from her shoulders up her neck. Compounding it was the fact that her cousins and
Mem
had witnessed the whole thing. They not only saw her
interaction with the
Englischers
, but also Matthew's reaction.
I feel like such a fool. Why did I have to help them?

Joy looked to her mother, and she noted curiosity there too.
Mem
walked by her side as they followed the two others with their suitcases.

“Why didn't you tell me about the other night? About giving them directions?”

“Oh, I…well, there were so many other things to talk about,” Joy said. It was the truth, but the deeper truth was she was afraid of these very responses.

Stupid, stupid.
Joy's fingers tightened around the handle of the suitcase that she pulled. Yes, it was good to help people, but she didn't need to help everyone, especially not
Englischers
. The men in the truck would have eventually figured it out, she was certain. Or maybe someone else would have stepped forward to help. It was a small community, and everything people did came to light. She had to make sure to be more careful next time. She cared for Matthew, and nothing was worth the risk of losing him.

“Kume.” Mem
motioned her cousins forward. “We'll drop off these things at your rental, and then you must come to our house for ice tea and Tasty Treat cakes. I baked them this morning, and I have to hear how everyone in Ohio is doing.”

Her cousins nodded, but their eyes were still on Joy. Dozens of questions filled their gazes, and she prepared herself to be peppered with them later. Joy didn't mind answering. What she did mind was that she had no doubt her answers would make it back up to Ohio by tomorrow night. And then spread to sewing frolic after sewing frolic after that.

 

Tasty Treat Cakes

2 cups sugar

⅔
cup butter, melted

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

¼ teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking soda

¾ cup cocoa powder

2 cups water

2 teaspoons vinegar

3 cups all-purpose flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, mix the wet ingredients into the dry. Pour batter into two 10 by 15-inch jelly roll pans. Bake for 15 minutes. Cool and frost.

Snowy White Frosting

2 pounds confectioners' sugar

1 cup solid vegetable shortening

2 tablespoons butter, softened

¼ teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

½ cup milk

Fill large mixing bowl with confectioners' sugar. Add shortening, butter, salt, vanilla, and milk. Mix for 5 minutes, until smooth and creamy.

Tip:
This frosting works great for doughnuts and as a cream filling for whoopie pies.

Eleven

It's better to hold out a helping hand than point a finger.

A
MISH PROVERB

J
oy brushed the feather duster along the rows of fabric, but today the duster felt as if it weighed twenty pounds. The heaviness on her heart was even more. Every breath hurt, and an ache had started in her temples. She'd attempted to enjoy her visit with her cousins yesterday afternoon and evening, but her mind kept flitting back to Matthew. She hadn't seen him last night, and when she'd walked by his house this morning he hadn't been there either. She knew she had to explain—she just hoped it would be enough to calm the troubled waters. This was no way to start a relationship. That she knew.

The bell on the front door jingled, and a tall woman entered the fabric shop. She paused inside the doorway and pushed her sunglasses up on her bright red hair, letting out a low whistle. Without hesitation she hurried over to a stack of quilts displayed on a deep shelf.

“Wow, these are beautiful. Just what I was looking for!”

The woman's excitement pushed aside Joy's worries for a time. She hurried over to the woman, adjusting her
kapp
as she did. “Can I help you?”

The woman turned, and her eyes widened. “You…you're Amish.” She reached out and gently grabbed Joy's wrist as if she were afraid Joy was going to slip away.

Joy broadened her smile. “Uh, yes. Would you like me to help you with one of these quilts? They're all hand-quilted by women in our community.”

“Hand-quilted?” The woman released Joy's wrist and reached for the closest quilt. It was white and purple with a dahlia design in the center. The woman trailed her fingers over the gorgeous, colorful border. “You're not telling me that each one of these stitches was done by a human hand and not a machine, are you?”

“Yes, that's what it means. These Amish quilts are entirely hand-quilted. The top is pieced together, and then the top, batting, and backing fabric are layered and held taut in a quilting frame.”

The woman's eyes were lined with dark makeup, and they widened with the explanation. “And they use a needle and thread to sew it?”

“In a quilting frame, yes. This is a queen-sized quilt, so it will have forty to fifty thousand stitches. Once that's finished they bind the edges.”

The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of reading glasses. “Don't tell anyone I wear these.” She chuckled. “But I have to take a closer look.” She gaped as she studied the tiny stitches. “It's just unbelievable.” She returned the glasses to her purse, sliding them into a small black-and-gold trimmed case. “I bet they cost a fortune. All that time. With all those children running around, it must take years to finish that.”

The woman seemed to be talking more to herself than Joy, and Joy couldn't help but smile. “Well, this one cost—”

“Or are these made in those sewing bees, or whatever you call
them? That would go much faster, I suppose, if there was someone around to watch all those kids.”

Joy just smiled, unsure of how she was supposed to answer the part about kids. Amish kids did go to school, and there were always older ones around to care for younger ones. But she did know how to answer about the sewing bee.

“Sometimes quilts are made at quilting frolics, but these are hand-quilted by one artist. They are made from high-quality cotton and will last a lifetime. They do cost a lot, but they are worth the investment.”

“But some quilts are made by more than one artist.”

“Oh yes. I was just working on a quilt for my sister at a sewing frolic. A nice number of us were gathered around the quilt frame.” Joy ran her hand over the stitching. “Some people like quilts that are more uniform. Quilting businesses tend to use the putting-out system or factory production because those are more efficient.”

“Putting-out?”

“Oh, that's what the textile industry called it when subcontractors completed the work off-site. Women took the work home with them.”

The woman leaned closer to eye the stitching. “I suppose I've never really thought of this before. Fascinating.”