Chapter 8 #2
His thoughts turned to Marlin’s granddaughter and the conversation they’d had after supper Monday evening.
Ivan had enjoyed the time he’d spent with Emma, sitting around the fire.
She was a likable young woman, and he felt comfortable with her.
The mere thought of seeing her again set Ivan’s mind at ease.
Emma had been more reserved during the gathering with his family, but at her grandparents’ house, Emma’s personality had shone like the brilliant rays of a sunset.
Ivan still found himself wanting to get to know her better.
He’d felt sorry for Emma when she admitted that she couldn’t cook.
She’d clearly been embarrassed by it, but the fact that she’d been able to talk to him about it had let Ivan know that Emma felt comfortable with him.
The feeling was mutual, and Ivan looked forward to seeing her again Sunday evening when he would escort her to the singing.
They wouldn’t be able to visit as much as he’d like, though, since his sisters would be with them, but the arrangement would be better than not seeing Emma at all.
“Son, are you coming? It’s time to get back to work.”
His father’s commanding voice shouting from the other room ended Ivan’s contemplations, and he called in return, “Jah, Papa, I’m on my way!”
Emma sat in the back of their driver’s vehicle, hoping they would find Ida Mae at home. They’d stopped a while ago at a restaurant the salesman had recommended for a bite of lunch before heading back to Arthur.
Grandma sat beside Emma with her eyes closed and head drooping to one side against the window. Emma figured she was likely asleep.
All that trying out of different mattresses probably tuckered her out, Emma reasoned as she fiddled with the ties of her head covering.
It made me feel sleepy just standing around waiting for Grandma and Grandpa to get done and put their order in for the mattress they’d finally chosen.
Hopefully, it will be delivered to their home soon so Grandma can get a good night’s sleep and wake up with no back pain.
Soon, their driver was pulling up the Yoders’ driveway, and Emma gingerly patted her grandmother’s shoulder. “Grandma, we’re here at Ida Mae’s house.”
Grandma straightened her posture, then reached under her glasses and rubbed her eyelids. “Already? Seems like we just left the restaurant in Champaign. Guess I must have dozed off for a bit.”
“I’d say it was a lot longer than a bit, Luellen,” Grandpa called from the front seat. “Soon after we got on the road, I looked over my shoulder and saw you nodding off.”
Grandma giggled a little and yawned. “I believe that all the mattress shopping we did this morning about did me in.”
“Same here,” Grandpa replied. “I’m ready to go home and take a nap.”
“Not yet,” Grandma said with a vigorous shake of her head. “I promised Emma we would stop by to see Ida Mae about teaching her to quilt, and I will not go back on my word.”
“Okay,” he responded. “Once we get home, we can all nap if we want to.”
Emma pressed a palm to her chest as she felt a flood of relief. “We probably won’t be here very long,” she assured him.
A few minutes later, Emma and her grandmother were on the Yoders’ front porch and Grandma knocked on the front door. Grandpa had opted to stay in the station wagon with their driver while the ladies went inside.
Ida Mae answered the door with a welcoming smile and invited them into the house. “How nice of you to stop by,” she said after suggesting they all take a seat at the kitchen table where they could have a cup of tea and sample the chocolate chip cookies she’d made earlier.
Emma was glad when Grandma said, “That would be real nice.”
As Grandma made small talk with Ida Mae on their way to the kitchen, Emma fixated on how her grandmother appeared to be less heavy-eyed and had resumed her usual zesty demeanor.
Once they were seated at the table and the refreshments had been served, Grandma brought up the topic they’d come here to talk about.
“If your offer to teach my granddaughter how to quilt is still open,” she said, “then Emma has my permission to accept.”
Ida Mae reached over and placed a gentle hand on Emma’s arm. “That’s wunderbaar. When can you start?”
Unsure of how to respond, Emma looked over at Grandma.
“She can begin tomorrow, if you’re available, but it will have to be after her morning cooking lesson.”
“That’s fine,” Ida Mae said, her laugh lines prevalent. “My schedule is wide open, and I’ll be here all day.”
After taking a sip of her herbal tea, Grandma turned toward Emma. “We’ll put the sewing project aside for a day and get back to it on Friday. Since sewing isn’t very forgiving on the hands, I don’t want you to get too overwhelmed by it.”
“I understand,” Emma said with a nod. She looked back at Ida Mae. “How much would the lessons cost?”
“Nothing at all,” the woman was quick to say. “I would count it a privilege to teach an eager young woman like you how to quilt. My daughters have shown no interest in quilting whatsoever, so it will be a blessing for me to teach my good friend’s granddaughter the fine art of making a quilt.”
Emma’s pulse quickened. Quilting would be a challenge, to be sure, but the idea of making her own quilt was exciting.
She could hardly wait until tomorrow and hoped the cooking lesson wouldn’t take too long.
The enthusiasm Emma felt brought a smile, but after a few seconds, it vanished like the warm vapor rising from her teacup.
I suppose I shouldn’t get too excited over this, Emma thought as she nibbled on a cookie.
I didn’t do well with the instructions Grandma gave me in the kitchen the other night, and look how that turned out.
I botched up an otherwise straightforward supper.
What if I fail at quilting too? If I can’t learn something that most women my age can do with ease, what else is there for me?
Biting the inside of her cheek, Emma thought back to what Ivan had joked about the night before.
I guess I would need to find a husband who can cook. But that’s not likely.