Chapter 10
THE FOLLOWING DAY, IN ADDITION to another brief cooking lesson, Grandma instructed Emma on how to finish the dress they had started for her last week. Not only did she still struggle with having full control of the treadle machine, Emma also lacked confidence in everything Grandma asked her to do.
Emma’s fingers trembled as she attempted to pin the sleeve of her dress in place, and she felt relief when Grandma stepped in and did it for her. Emma figured if she hadn’t done so, they’d probably be here in the sewing room all day.
Emma heaved an audible sigh. There were so many other things she’d rather be doing on this beautiful Friday in June.
She still hadn’t been given the chance to relax in Grandpa’s hammock, and since he was in town running an errand, this would have been the perfect time.
But no—she was stuck here in the stuffy house, trying to do the impossible. At least that’s the way Emma saw it.
Grandma, on the other hand, kept encouraging Emma, saying things like, “You can do this. Try to relax and take your time.”
If there was one thing Emma did not feel, it was relaxed.
She’d been ever so glad during her time with Ida Mae yesterday that she hadn’t been expected to use the treadle machine.
Cutting out squares for the patchwork quilt and pinning them together in readiness to stitch by hand had seemed so easy compared to making a dress.
“Emma, your shoulders are tense. Please try to relax and stop frowning.”
Grandma’s comment and gentle touch scattered Emma’s thoughts, and she responded with a groan. “This isn’t easy, and I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of it.”
“Yes you will, if you give yourself time and try to be patient.” Grandma pulled up a chair and took a seat so she was closer to where Emma sat in front of the machine.
“Take a few deep breaths, start again, and remember to guide the material slowly as your foot moves up and down on the pedal in the correct position.”
Emma was almost sure she’d done a better job baking cookies earlier today than she was doing now with the drab-colored material beneath her fingers.
At least stirring the batter and adding the ingredients to the bowl hadn’t put her nerves on edge.
Emma wished she could be honest and just tell her grandmother that she’d rather be outdoors in the sun than cooped up in here, trying to do something she was sure she would never be good at.
But she held her tongue and continued with her attempt at finishing this dress that she probably might not be able to wear.
The hem would probably be uneven, one sleeve could be shorter than the other, and when all was said and done, she might not even be able to slip it on over her head.
If that turned out to be the case, Emma would have the perfect excuse to hang the dress in the closet and never wear it anywhere.
“How was your day?” Ivan’s mother asked when he stepped onto the front porch, where she sat shelling peas into a container on her lap.
“It went okay, I guess. Papa had some paperwork to do, and he told me to tell you that he might be another hour or so.”
“That’s fine. We won’t be eating supper for a while yet.” She smiled up at him. “There’s a jar of kichlin on the table, if you’d like a snack.”
“Danki, Mama. I’ll take a few cookies to enjoy while I’m upstairs workin’ on Marlin’s old clock.”
“Are you getting anywhere with it?” she questioned.
“I think so. It’s keeping time now, but I’ve still got some work to do to get it to chime.” Ivan felt energized just talking about the challenge of repairing the clock. He could hardly wait to get back to it.
“You really enjoy that tedious work, don’t you, Ivan? I can tell by the certainty I hear in your voice that you are determined to repair the clock—not just as a favor to Marlin, but because you love the challenge.”
Ivan bobbed his head. “You’re right, Mama. Just wish I could drum up enough business to do clock repairing full-time. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Maybe someday you will, Son. Just don’t give up your dream. Keep your eyes on the goal, and remember to pray about your future. God has a plan for each of us, and we need to make sure that whatever we do, it’s within His will.”
“I’ll try to remember that. Right now, though, there are some cookies and a clock waiting for my attention.”
Leaning forward at the workstation he’d set up in his room, Ivan toiled over Marlin’s antique clock, drawing in a breath of the metallic aroma of the lubricant.
Little by little, he’d been figuring out the steps he needed to take in order to get the vintage timepiece to sound its hourly chime.
Ivan was aware that it was a deep-seated problem with the antique’s mechanism rather than a reset issue.
To get the clock to function again, the internal components needed to be upheld, which required much patience and steady hands.
Although immersed in his work, the sound of approaching footsteps behind him caught his attention.
“Have you figured out what the problem is?” Ivan’s mother questioned.
“Sure hope so. It had been gummed up because the mechanism had been oiled too much, but that wasn’t the only thing, unfortunately.
” It’s difficult to know whether I’ll get this chiming after all these years because the springs can be a little awkward to deal with.
” His shoulders lifted, and then he lowered them in a more relaxed position.
But maybe if I’m diligent enough, I can get it done without causing further damage. ”
“I don’t know how you do it, Ivan. I am sure that if I were the one messing with the clock, it probably would end up in worse shape than before.”
“We all have something we’re good at. I know I wouldn’t be able to quilt like you do, Mama.”
“In some ways, the project you’re carrying out is similar to quilting, in that it takes great patience. Maybe you should try quilting sometime, Ivan. You could even join in on a lesson with Emma when she comes over here again.” Ivan’s mother smiled while gently patting his shoulder.
“I think I’ll leave the quilting to you and Emma,” he said, feeling heat creeping along the bridge of his nose. “Speaking of Emma, how do you think it went with you teaching her yesterday?”
“What I’ve noticed the most about Emma is that she isn’t particularly kind to herself,” his mother responded.
“Anytime Emma makes a slipup, she says she’ll never get the hang of it.
But as I reminded her, that’s exactly how you learn.
You cannot hone your skills if you don’t allow room for mistakes.
When putting effort into learning something new and experiencing countless instances of trial and error, it’s important to have faith that something wonderful will eventually emerge. ”
“Very true, Mama. I know I’ve made plenty of mistakes over the years, fiddling with clocks, and I hope not to do the same with this one.” Grasping the pliers, Ivan narrowed his eyes while adjusting the spring gradually.
“All right, I’ll leave you to it. Keep up the good work.”
For a brief period, Ivan’s mother lingered in the room, and he was certain that she was observing him as he continued working on his project.
When Ivan finally heard her footsteps fade away, he wiped the perspiration from his forehead and went back to work on the clock’s internal mechanisms. Holding down the arbor, he snapped the spring into its proper position.
Ivan twisted off the lid of the oil canister and applied a little drop into the bearing after hooking the spring onto the arbor and ensuring it was in place.
“I think that oughta do it,” Ivan muttered to himself. “If not, I’ll just have to take it apart and start over.”
“What do you think now that your frack is finished?” Luellen asked, holding Emma’s dress in front of her.
“It looks okay, but that’s only because you fixed all my mistakes.” Emma pursed her lips. “I doubt that I’ll ever be able to sew anything as well as you do, Grandma.”
“Sure you will. It’s just going to take more practice and determination.
” Luellen handed Emma the dress. “While you’re hanging this up in your room, I’m going to get out those speedy brownies you made earlier and fix us both a glass of cold milk.
Then I think it would be nice if the two of us went outside with our treats and enjoyed some time on the front porch. Would you like that, Emma?”
“I sure would, Grandma.” Emma grinned so wide that her teeth showed. It was the first smile Luellen had seen from her granddaughter all day.
“All right then. I’ll get the snacks while you put your dress away, and then we’ll meet on the front porch.”
Emma nodded and hurried off with the dress in her hands.
Luellen ambled into the kitchen. Her back still hurt, but not as bad as it had when she’d first gotten out of bed this morning.
Maybe I should try sleeping on the sofa tonight and see if that’s any better for my back than our old mattress.
Luellen shook her head almost as soon as the thought entered her mind.
If I slept on the sofa, I don’t think Marlin would like it.
He likes the feel of my cold feet when his body gets overheated under the covers, especially during the warmer months of the year.
Luellen had no sooner set the milk and brownies on the small table between two chairs on the porch when Emma showed up.
“Take a seat and relax awhile.” Luellen gestured to the other chair.
Emma sat down, removed her shoes and socks, and wiggled her bare toes. Ignoring the brownies and milk, she stared out into the yard with a wistful expression.
“What are you thinking about, Emma? Are you missing your family at home? Is it hard being away from them?”
“I do miss my family,” Emma admitted. “But I enjoy being here with you and Grandpa too.”