The Wedding Quilt Read online

  “Careful,” Sarah couldn’t resist warning as he left the banquet hall for the kitchen.

  “When am I not?” he called as the door swung shut behind him.

  Her gaze lingered on the door, but her thoughts were far away. Why would James believe that the revelation that he and Gina were dating, which they all had suspected anyway, would be enough to divert the attention from Caroline and Leo’s wedding?

  The friends Sarah most longed to see, her beloved Elm Creek Quilters, arrived within hours of one another the following morning. After putting the bridesmaids and the couple’s other willing friends to work clearing the ballroom of quilt camp supplies and equipment, Sarah found herself pacing from window to window, checking the time, unable to focus on any task. At last, while making up more suites for their guests, she spotted a taxi shuttle crossing the bridge over Elm Creek. Immediately she dropped what she was doing, hurried downstairs, and flung open the back door just as the vehicle came to a stop in the parking lot. “Summer,” she cried as her friend emerged from the backseat.

  “Sarah,” Summer shouted in reply. She dropped her bag on the ground and ran across the parking lot to embrace her. Her long auburn hair spilled down her back, bearing only a few faint traces of gray, and she was almost as slender as she would always remain in Sarah’s memory of those first wonderful years of Elm Creek Quilts, when everything was new, and all their adventures awaited them. Suddenly Summer gasped and remembered her mother, still seated in the back of the cab, and the driver, awaiting the fare. Summer paid him and helped Gwen from the car as the driver removed their luggage from the trunk.

  “Kiddo,” Gwen cried, wrapping her arms around Sarah. “Let me look at you. You don’t look a day older since I last saw you—well, not many days, anyway. Still running every morning?”

  “Walking, mostly.” Sarah closed her eyes, welcoming the feel of Gwen’s sturdy arms around her. At seventy-eight, Gwen was stocky and stooped; she walked with a cane and wore her steely gray hair blunt-cut at the chin. But her voice still rang with confidence, as it always had, a faint trace of her Kentucky accent lingered despite decades spent in the north, and she carried with her the scent of curry and cinnamon.

  “Tell me something.” Gwen grasped Sarah’s shoulders, held her at arms’ length, and peered up at her, shaking her head in bemusement. “How can it be possible that your baby girl is old enough to get married?”

  “I’m not convinced that she is old enough,” Sarah confessed, just as Matt arrived. He greeted mother and daughter with warm hugs, endured Gwen’s teasing about his disappearing hair good-naturedly, and carried their bags inside while Sarah offered her arm to Gwen. Anna met them at the back door and embraced them both, all the old rivalry with Summer long forgotten.

  “Enrique sends his love, and his regrets,” Summer said as she, Gwen, Sarah, and Anna sat down at the long wooden table where they had shared countless meals and conversations through the years. “He wanted to be here, but with the new semester just begun and the kids in school, it made more sense for him to stay home.”

  “Of course it does,” said Sarah, pouring each of them a glass of iced tea. “We’ll miss him, but maybe you can all come to visit another time.”

  “When should we get started on the quilt?” Wincing, Gwen quickly glanced over her shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no one there. “Sorry. What a fine guest I would be if I spoiled the surprise within five minutes of my arrival.”

  “I thought we should wait for the rest of our friends,” said Sarah. “But I don’t suppose they’ll feel left out if we start without them.”

  “We can wait,” Summer said to Sarah, and then turned to Gwen. “You’ve been traveling all day. Just relax for a while.”

  Gwen’s eyebrows rose as she stirred two heaping teaspoonfuls of sugar into her glass. “You say that like I hiked all the way from California. I’m seventy-eight, not one hundred and eight, and thanks to reform laws I myself championed in Congress, I’ve benefited from the excellent care of skilled physicians without ever fearing that illness, injury, or unemployment would leave me the devastating choice of treatment or bankruptcy. Thank you, and you’re welcome.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” Summer raised her palms in a gesture of appeasement. “My mistake. Feel free to run laps around the manor if you like.”

  “Don’t think I couldn’t,” countered Gwen, grinning as she brandished her cane, evoking laughter from her friends. “Now tell us, Sarah, how many blocks do you need each of us to make?”

  “I’ve already sewn the blocks,” Sarah explained. “I’ll need your help collecting the signatures.”

  Her friends cheerfully replied that they would be happy to help however Sarah needed them. She knew they felt as she did, that it was a rare and wonderful treat to be working together on a quilt again, as they had done so often in years long past. They were especially happy to collaborate on a wedding gift for their beloved Caroline, especially one they knew she would cherish as a precious memento of her wedding day. Sarah had pieced dozens of Memory Album blocks in Caroline’s wedding colors of blue, sage green, ivory, and dusty pink, choosing elegant florals and rich tone-on-tones to give the quilt visual depth and texture. In the corners of each block were four right triangles, two large and two small, their vertices framing and drawing the eye toward a large, symmetrical cross at the center. Pieced from a creamy ivory solid, the central crosses were the natural focal point of each block, and it was there that Sarah would ask the wedding guests to sign their names and write a few words of love and warm wishes for the bride and groom. She had ironed freezer paper to the back of each block to stabilize the fabric, making them much easier to write upon, and she had purchased several new permanent-ink pens made especially for cloth. She planned to divide the blocks among the Elm Creek Quilters and have them surreptitiously collect signatures from the other guests at the reception. With any luck, Caroline and Leo would be too distracted by their friends, their family, and the joy of the occasion to notice the Elm Creek Quilters strolling from table to table, pens in hand, their handbags stuffed with fabric that suspiciously resembled quilt blocks. Then again, what could be any less suspicious than an Elm Creek Quilter toting fabric around the manor, even at a wedding?

  On Sunday morning after the bride and groom embarked on their Hawaiian honeymoon, Sarah and her friends would bring together all of the Memory Album blocks, admire the signatures, read the heartfelt messages, and unite them in a single, beautiful quilt, a chorus of loving voices wishing the newlyweds a future blessed with happiness, joy, and love. A quilt such as this, a future treasured family heirloom, required nothing less than their most exquisite hand quilting, so after the top was complete, Sarah would layer it with soft bamboo batting and backing, and together she and her friends would quilt it, working their needles in feathered plumes and crosshatches through the three layers, adding dimension and texture with every stitch. They might not be able to finish the entire quilt before her friends’ visit ended, but that was fine, because Sarah intended to present the quilt as a gift to the newlyweds at Christmas, and she would have plenty of time to add the last stitches and bind the edges before then. Even so, it wouldn’t hurt to begin earlier than she had intended.

  Sipping her iced tea, Sarah said, “I suppose we don’t have to wait until the reception to start collecting signatures. A good third of the guests are staying right here at the manor, and many of them have already arrived. We could begin going from room to room whenever we like. Of course, we’ll have to make sure Caroline is busy elsewhere and won’t suddenly turn the corner and see us.”

  “I’ll be in charge of keeping her occupied,” offered Gwen. “The prospect of distracting Caroline while the rest of you scurry up and down the halls with your quilt blocks and pens is rich with comedic possibilities.”

  “Try to be subtle about it, though,” said Sarah. “She’ll know something’s up if you aren’t acting naturally.”

  Gwen regarded her
with amusement. “You can’t have it both ways. Which do you want from me, subtle or natural?”

  “If Caroline heads upstairs while we’re collecting signatures, try to delay her in a way that’s authentically you and yet not an obvious stall tactic,” said Summer, smiling. “Tell her some of your stories from Congress, like the one about the time you filibustered that offshore drilling proposal—”

  “Summer Sullivan, I taught you better than that. That wasn’t a filibuster. You can’t filibuster in the House, only in the Senate. I just had a lot to say on the subject.” A gleam appeared in Gwen’s eye. “I think I know just the story to share with our young bride if she tries to venture upstairs when she shouldn’t.”

  “Don’t go too far,” said Anna, alarmed. “Don’t say anything that will give her cold feet.”

  “That might not be such a bad thing,” said Sarah, and when everyone looked at her, she added, “That was a joke.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Summer skeptically. “Anyway, collecting signatures ahead of time is better all around. If we start earlier, and get as many signatures as we can before the wedding, we’ll run less risk of running out of time at the reception and missing someone.”

  “And Caroline’s less likely to suspect we’re up to something if we’re going from room to room delivering fresh towels than if she sees us going from table to table at the reception.”

  “Agreed.” Summer turned to her mother, feigning regret. “I’m sorry, Mom, but your comedic stall tactics probably won’t be necessary.”

  “I’ll keep a few in reserve just in case.” Gwen finished the last refreshing sips of her iced tea. “Should we get started?”

  “Caroline’s upstairs in her room with her bridesmaids debating what to do with her hair on Saturday,” Sarah said. “I think we should wait until they’re busy somewhere else in the manor. We can wait until the rest of the Elm Creek Quilters arrive and are ready to get to work.”

  “Who’s not here?” asked Gwen. “I thought we would be the last to arrive. Let me guess who’s running late. Diane?”

  “We’re expecting her any minute,” said Anna. “Emily and Maggie are out running wedding errands, but they’ll be back soon, and I know they can’t wait to see you.”

  “Russell’s helping Matt in the north gardens,” added Sarah. “He wants every flower in place for the ceremony. Emily says that her parents will be coming in from Philadelphia later this afternoon.”

  “It’ll be so nice to see Judy again,” said Gwen. Judy and Gwen had been best friends before Judy left Waterford College for a faculty position at Penn the autumn before the twins were born. “I miss her so much I ache. What about Bonnie?”

  “Didn’t she tell you? She’s not coming,” said Sarah, and when their faces fell, she added, “I’m as disappointed as you are, but it’s a long way to travel. Caroline and Leo are staying at the Hale Kapa Kuiki throughout their honeymoon, so Bonnie and Hinano will have a belated celebration with the kids then.”

  “But what about seeing us?” protested Gwen. “No offense, Sarah, but this weekend isn’t just about the kids. Sure, it’s a long trip, but Bonnie and Hinano could take the suborbital transport and cut their flight time in half. That jet packs a lot of power.”

  “You know Bonnie never liked flying,” said Summer. “She prefers for us to come to her.”

  “And as long as she lives in Hawai’i, we’ll always be willing to go,” said Sarah. After Bonnie became part owner of a charming inn in Lahaina on Maui, she had extended an open invitation to the Elm Creek Quilters to visit anytime. All of the founding members had gladly accepted, sometimes to work as visiting instructors, but often simply to enjoy a relaxing vacation in paradise. Sarah and Matt first visited the Hale Kapa Kuiki when the twins were three years old. Sarah went once a year after that, and when the twins entered high school, she began extending her visits. For the past few years, she had spent nearly every January enjoying the beauty and aloha spirit of Maui. Sometimes Matt joined her for a week or two, but he had always tolerated the cold, the snow, and the limited sunlight of a Pennsylvania winter better than she did, and didn’t need to escape it.

  Bonnie’s first visit to Maui had been a different sort of escape, and even more necessary. Her marriage was in its death throes, and Craig, boiling over with malice and greed, was determined to prolong the misery of the divorce proceedings as long as he could. In a cruel stroke of misfortune, Bonnie had also recently lost her beloved quilt shop, Grandma’s Attic, and was reeling from the dual losses of her marriage and her livelihood. Then an entirely unexpected invitation came from her college friend Claire, the owner of a quilt shop on Maui, who proposed that Bonnie come work for her for the winter and help her establish a quilters’ retreat in a historic inn on the ocean. Gratefully Bonnie accepted, and as she passed the winter surrounded by warmth and beauty and occupied herself with interesting, challenging work, she found her stress and anxiety ebbing away. Even though she still had to deal with the acrimony of the divorce, putting thousands of miles between herself and her belligerent future ex-husband gave her respite, sparing her the misery of facing him across the table in a lawyer’s office. Naturally, Craig being Craig, he managed to inflict a great deal of pain and unhappiness as she wrested herself free from their failed marriage, and ultimately she was forced to sell her share of Elm Creek Quilts so he couldn’t claim part of it in the division of their marital property.

  Sarah remembered those tumultuous months with regret and Craig’s behavior with disgust. All along, the Elm Creek Quilters had known that once the divorce was final, Judy intended to sell her share of the business to Bonnie—but they couldn’t tell Bonnie that and risk having her new share declared a joint marital asset. Sarah could only imagine how devastated Bonnie must have been, thinking herself abandoned by her friends when she most needed their support. What courage Bonnie had shown, and what selflessness, in deciding to sell her share rather than risk harm to all that they had created together! The Elm Creek Quilters had known that Bonnie could regain her position as a part owner of the business as soon as her divorce was final, but Bonnie had not.

  And so, unaware of her friends’ plans, Bonnie made plans of her own. She had grown accustomed to owning her own business and was not content to be a member of the Elm Creek Quilts faculty and nothing more, so when Claire offered her the chance to buy in to the Hale Kapa Kuiki, she accepted. Sarah would never forget the day Bonnie returned from Maui, met Sarah’s infant twins, discovered Judy waiting in the newly remodeled kitchen—and at last learned the secret her friends had been keeping from her so many months. Bonnie’s surprise was everything her friends had anticipated, but their surprise was even greater when Bonnie revealed that she would now be part owner of two quilters’ retreats—and that she had discovered a new love in Hawai’i.

  In Sarah’s opinion, no one deserved a second chance at happiness more than Bonnie, but she wasn’t as wholeheartedly delighted for her friend as the other Elm Creek Quilters seemed to be. Bonnie had been involved with Craig since college, and her marriage had only just ended. Rebound relationships rarely endured, and after all Bonnie had been through with Craig, Sarah worried that she would be badly hurt by another breakup. Was it wise, Sarah wondered, to embark upon a new relationship so soon? “What, if anything, about falling in love is wise?” Anna said with a laugh when Sarah came to her with her concerns. Anna was newly in love with Jeremy then, and perhaps not as objective as she otherwise would have been.

  Sylvia provided the reassurance Sarah sought by reminding her that Bonnie was by nature sensible; that the demise of her marriage had made her more cautious, not less; and that the thousands of miles that would separate Bonnie from her new sweetheart would oblige her to proceed slowly. Much relieved, Sarah realized that time and distance would prove whether Hinano was worthy of Bonnie. If he kept in touch throughout the spring and summer, if their affection grew rather than dwindled, then Sarah would believe that their feelings for each other were real and strong and
not the ephemeral infatuation of a holiday fling. She hoped Hinano was every bit as wonderful as Bonnie said he was, and she prayed Bonnie wouldn’t get hurt.

  As spring blossomed into summer and another season of Elm Creek Quilt Camp continued with the usual delights and mishaps, Bonnie seemed happier and more full of life than she had been in years. Sarah often overheard laughter coming from Bonnie’s classroom as she taught her favorite courses with renewed enthusiasm. Bonnie spoke often of Hinano, a widower, ukulele player, and music shop owner. His only child, a son, had recently graduated from the University of Hawai’i on Oahu with a degree in oceanography. His aunt Midori, the cook and housekeeper for the Hale Kapa Kuiki, was a talented traditional Hawaiian quilter and the first friend Bonnie had made in Lahaina. An expert on Hawaiian history and culture, Hinano had introduced Bonnie to some of the islands’ most magnificent natural wonders and fascinating historical treasures: sunrise at Haleakala, the Queen’s Quilt in the Iolani Palace in Honolulu, the view of Kahului from the Waihee Ridge, the beauty and stunning history of the ‘Iao Valley. Already he was planning other excursions for when Bonnie returned to Maui after Labor Day—which, Sarah gathered, couldn’t come soon enough to suit either of them. They kept in touch with frequent phone calls and daily e-mails, and although hearing from Hinano always lifted Bonnie’s spirits, an undercurrent of longing flowed through all of her stories about him, and about her Hawaiian home.

  Bonnie also spoke often with Claire and Midori, who kept her informed about Aloha Quilt Camp’s exciting launch, successful first sessions, and occasional calamities, which she helped resolve over the phone. The teachers Bonnie had recruited and hired were working out beautifully, and the evening programs she had designed based upon Hinano’s recommendations delighted their campers, introducing them to the history and culture of Hawai’i beyond the popular tourist destinations. Whenever Claire e-mailed her photos from the Hale Kapa Kuiki—the outdoor classroom on the lanai, the welcome luaus on the beach with the sun setting over the Pacific, the campers enjoying excursions into the rain forest—Bonnie shared the pictures with the Elm Creek Quilters, seeming both happy and wistful as she gazed upon the scenes. After a busy day at Elm Creek Quilt Camp, Bonnie often could be found in the kitchen exchanging e-mails with Claire on her laptop, reading over her notes from the previous winter, or perusing tourist guidebooks for Maui—all in preparation for returning to Lahaina after the summer. Bonnie missed not only Hinano, Sarah realized, but also Claire, Midori, the Laulima Quilters, the Hale Kapa Kuiki with its pineapple garden and ocean views, and the excitement of launching a new business and watching it flourish. At times Bonnie seemed relaxed and happy, enjoying her students, her daily morning walks around the estate, the anticipation and peace of a Sunday-morning breakfast at the manor before the next week’s campers arrived—but other times she seemed eager for the days to pass swiftly so she could return to Hawai’i, to Aloha Quilt Camp, and to Hinano.