The Healing Quilt (12 page)

“What position do you play?”

“Catcher—sometimes, or out in the field.”

“When my son, Ryan, comes home from college, perhaps he'll pitch to you.”

“When's he coming home?”

“August for a couple of weeks.” She parked the car as close to the booth as she could and got out. “You want to help me carry these pies?”

“What if I drop one?”

“I'll have to break your arm.”

He hooted at that, like she'd hoped he would, and bailed out of the car to join her as she opened the hatch. “Wow, what a lotta pies. You baked ‘em all?”

“Yep. You take that one there.” She pointed to a rhubarb, then picked up one of the boxes and led the way to the back of the booth where bakery racks stood at the ready, along with a woman playing traffic director. Six trips later the job was done.

“I see you've got a new helper there.” Sue Gunderson, Kit's longtime friend, smiled down at Thomas.

“My new neighbor. This is Thomas and Mrs. Gunderson to you.”

“Everyone calls me Granny G, so if you'd like to, you may.” Set off by a tan earned while working in her garden, Sue's blue eyes were lit with the sun's warmth. Her short silver hair fell straight from a center part.

Thomas nodded. “Did you bake all the rest of these pies?” His eyes looked about as big as some of the pastries themselves.

“No, ‘fraid not. All the church ladies bake. Have to have homemade pies, nothing store-bought allowed. Your mom like to bake pies?” Sue pushed the rack back in place.

Thomas shrugged and turned away. “Is that the parade coming?”

“Sure enough, we better hustle on up there.”
Interesting. He never answers direct questions about his parents.
Kit promised herself this was something worth looking into.

“Here.” She handed Thomas a gallon-sized plastic bag when they got to a place to set up her chair.

“What for?”

“To put your candy in?”

His look of confusion made her realize he'd never been to a smalltown parade before.

“The clowns and people in the parade throw candy. I thought you'd like to get some. You might need more than your pockets to hold it all.”

“Man oh man.” His chuckle made her own smile widen. A little boy's grin could do that to the most hardhearted, and Kit knew she was a softy.

By the time the Rotary Club members came after the last horses with pooper-scoopers, Kit's hands tingled from clapping, and she desperately needed a drink of water, which she'd forgotten to bring. Thomas had a wad of bubble gum in his cheek and a bag half full of candy. Kit folded up her chair.

“Well, what do you think of parades now?”

“Cool.” He blew a big bubble but sucked it back in just before it popped.

“How many pieces is that?”

He held up three fingers. The kid was a pro.

“Do you have a time you need to be home?”

“Nah.” He blew a small bubble and popped it, sucking the gum back in with a grin.

Good grief now what? Hell get bored and in time for my shift at the booth. I could trust my kids to stay within the park. They always went off to pUy with their friends, but…

“Are you thirsty?” Kit asked as they approached the pie laden tables.

He nodded.

“Good, there's bottled water in the van. Please put this chair in the rear and help yourself.” She handed him the keys. “Just click this.”

“I know.” He trotted off, the folded chair banging on his leg.

“How'd you two meet?” Sue set the sectioned pie cutter in place on a rhubarb pie and pushed down.

“He showed up on my doorstep, asking if I had any kids to play with him.”

“He's a cutie. Kelly, my granddaughter, will be here shortly and needs some company.”

“Thanks, Sue.” Kit looked over the array of slices of pie on small paper plates on the table. “You think we made too many?”

“You always say that, and you know we have to beat off those who want to buy a whole pie until the end of the day.”

“I guess.” Kit tied her white apron on and stepped up to the table. “What kind would you like?” she asked a hungry-looking young man. When she turned around a few minutes later, she saw Sues granddaughter and Thomas, followed by one of the older kids, heading for the swings.

“I told them no farther than the swings without getting more permission.” Sue handed another customer a piece of pie. “You want whipped cream on that?” At the nod, she picked up a can of whipping cream, shook it, and squirted a mound in the middle of the pumpkin wedge.

By the end of two hours, Kit was more than glad to pass on her apron.

“They're over at the ball field. I gave them money for sodas,” Sue answered Kit's unspoken question. “That Thomas sure has good manners. Please and thank you and even a ma'am. They come from the South or something?”

“Got me. I've just met his teenage sister, and she was none too friendly. Thomas enjoys playing with dogs, though. I let him wear Missy out or vice versa.”

“He's got energy, you gotta admit that.”

“Yeah, and an unending supply of questions.” Kit turned at a hollered greeting and waved back. “Think I'll go check the ball field. You want to come?”

The two friends strolled down the wide aisle between stalls of every kind: foods, crafts, politics, and games with people everywhere, laughing and teasing with the barkers. Children ran through the gathering, winners laughed, and losers groaned. A long line waited to pitch and dunk the high-school principal, who heckled the crowd and badgered the hecklers. Red, white, and blue bunting decorated all the booths and looped from post to post along with the recently strung white lights, all set for the evening. One of the local politicians behind the podium on the bandstand promised everything but his jacket.

“You tell ‘em, sonny,” yelled a grizzled man leaning on his cane in one of the back row seats.

Two teenage girls shrieked when doused by squirt guns from two boys of about matching age.

Kit and Sue laughed and continued their stroll. “I wouldn't be that age again for all the milk in Wisconsin.”

“Me, either.” Sue side-stepped a toddler, bent on catching a fat dachshund who waddled on his leash behind a woman who was oblivious to the goings-on.

“What did you think about that article in the paper about breast cancer here in Jefferson County?” Kit brought up the subject that had been niggling in the back of her mind.

“I was appalled, had no idea things were so bad. Why?”

“Well, I have an idea. You still doing any quilting?”

“Some. Haven't had as much time since Janey and Kelly moved back home.”

“Where's Janey today?”

“At work. Nurses don't get holidays off, you know.”

“So you have Kelly all summer?”

“You got it. Never thought I'd be in this predicament, but what can you do? I'd much rather it was me taking care of her than some stranger. And Janey helps a lot around the house and such, not like some other families I've heard in the same situation.”

“I'm thinking some of us ought to get together and start a fundraiser to get us a new mammogram unit. You know, the machine that…” Kit made squeezing flat motions with her hands.

“Thing like that must cost a pretty penny.”

“I'm sure. Marcy gave me the idea of using a handmade quilt to auction for seed money. You be interested in helping on something like that?”

“Sure. Just let me know when.”

“Good, I'll keep you posted.” They stopped behind the backstop and looked out at the field.

“Mrs. C!” A shout from the outfield and a waving arm told her where Thomas was playing.

Sue turned to look at her. “Mrs. C?” Guess so.

“Grandma!” Kelly played next to Thomas.

The batter hit a high arching fly. Thomas took a couple of steps forward, and the ball fell right into his mitt. Kit couldn't tell if it was shock or awe that stretched his face, but she led the cheers for him. “Thataway Thomas! What a catch!” When his team came up to bat, she gave him a high-five and went to find a place on the bleachers where several other women had congregated. Thanks to Sue, the quilt became an instant topic of conversation. By the time the game ended, four more ladies were interested in helping, one who said she couldn't stitch a straight seam but could bake cookies and make lunches for those who could.

Kit quickly realized she had too few answers for too many of the women's questions. “I'll have a meeting at my house on Tuesday…” She thought a moment. Tuesday was the day she'd promised to take Teza to the traveling mammogram unit in Olympia. “Make it Wednesday morning, say ten. I'll put the coffeepot on.”

After the game they walked on back to the booths, Thomas beside her and Kelly beside him. “I imagine you're both starved by now.”

“I am. Mom gave me money for a hot dog.” Kelly dug in the pocket of her shorts. “See.” She held up a five-dollar bill. “I can spend it however I want.”

“Hot dog okay with you?” Kit asked.

Thomas nodded.

Or two?”

His grin broadened. “With mustard and relish.”

“How about I buy the dogs and you dress your own?” At his nod, she added, “And then we call your folks to make sure it's all right for you to stay through the fireworks tonight.”

“All right!” He and Kelly swapped cheers and raced ahead to the hot dog stand, run by the local Kiwanis.

Kit watched the two kids fix their hot dogs and giggle when the mustard bottle squirted half on the white paper covering the table, missing most of their sandwiches. So many years since hers had been that age, and yet it seemed like only last week.

“I hear you ve decided to go ahead with the quilt idea,” Marcy said some time later as they stood in line for barbecued chicken at the Saint Ignatius Catholic Church food booth. The men of Saint Ignatius were famous in five counties for their grilled chicken and the ladies for their potato salad.

“My, but news travels fast in this town.” Kit shook her head. “I just mentioned it this morning, and here we're having a planning meeting at my house on Wednesday. Want to come?”

“No thanks, but I'll buy tickets or come bid at the auction. You know, you might invite Elaine Giovanni to join the group. She'd be good help on lots of levels. And once the quilt is finished, I think there's a blank wall at the hospital that would be a real good place to display it.”

“That would be kind of like carrying coals to Newcasde, wouldn't it?”

“Perhaps, but those bars at Newcastle might need rattling.”

“Might that young man over there be one of the bars you're meaning?” Kit's eyebrows rose as she nodded over at a group of people eating their chicken and sipping from foaming glasses of golden liquid.

“I thought beer was supposed to be kept in the Beer Garden.” Kit glanced back at Marcy.

“It is. But then some people don't feel the same rules apply to them as to the rest of us peons.”

“Hi, Kit, what's this I hear about a quilting project?” Harriet Spooner stopped in the chicken line behind them.

“Good to see you, Harriet. The quilt is to earn money for a new mammogram unit for the hospital. You interested in helping?”

“I was thinking that I'd come if you wanted more sewers and invite our new pastors wife. She said she loves to quilt. It'd be a good chance for her to meet more of us, and I know how these things go, there are never enough hands and you know I'd rather garden in the summertime, but this sounds like something we should all take part in and.

When she took a breath, Kit broke in. “I'm really glad you thought of her. Teza mentioned meeting her at the WECARE meeting, didn't she? The meeting's at my house at ten o'clock on Wednesday.”

“Good, I'll be there. Your roses are always so beautiful, and by the way, the chicken is even better this year than last. Dessert, that's what I need. Choices, choices.”

“Thanks, Harriet.” Kit watched the woman stride off toward the Jefferson Community Church booth. “My word, can she talk! Whew!”

Marcy whispered, “Amen to that. But so good-hearted.”

“Mrs. C, can I have a corn dog with Kelly?” Thomas, blue ribbon pinned to his chest for winning the sack race, skidded to a stop in front of her.

“Wouldn't you rather have chicken? You ate a hot dog for lunch.”

“No thanks.”

“Your grandma said yes?” Kit asked Kelly, who nodded emphatically. “Then fine with me, but make sure you find our blanket before dark. Your grandma and I are sharing. We'll light sparklers before the fireworks begin.”

Okay.” The two ran off.

“Cute kids.”

“Thomas is my neighbor.”

Marcy leaned closer. “Did you hear, Annie's reached stage four? It's all through her lungs. They just closed her up yesterday and sent her home.”

Kit shut her eyes, clasping her middle where she was sure she'd been sucker-punched.
Dear God, no!