Chapter 18 #2
“No, Dad,” Rachel said with a shake of her head. “I need to get away for a while. I’ve been missing Emma too and would enjoy some time away where I wouldn’t have to see David or even think about him.”
“What about your cleaning job?” Dianna questioned.
“I’ll ask for a few weeks off.” Rachel fiddled with her fork. “Or maybe even longer.”
Dianna was about to say that she didn’t think it was a good idea, when Philip blurted out, “I think that’s a fine idea, Rachel. A little time away will be good for you, and it’ll give you a chance to gain a new perspective on things.”
Dianna’s eyes narrowed. She wished her husband sat closer to her, because if he were, she might have kicked him under the table.
With both of their daughters staying at their grandparents’ house, it could mean that one or both of them might decide to stay in Arthur permanently.
Then Dianna and Philip would have no children living close to them. Hadn’t he thought about that?
Shortly after noon, Emma arrived at the Yoders’ home for another quilting lesson.
There was a spring in Emma’s step as she approached the porch stairs.
Her pancakes had turned out well this morning, she had a steady boyfriend for the first time, and Emma felt hopeful about her ability to do something well today.
Emma only knocked once before the door opened and Ivan’s mother invited her in.
“Good afternoon, Emma.” Ida Mae gave her a hug. “Let’s go into my sewing room and get started, shall we?”
Emma smiled and nodded. She could hardly wait. There was so much she wanted to learn about quilting—not just becoming an expert quilter, but learning the different patterns and even discovering some information about the history of Amish quilting.
Following Ida Mae down the hall, Emma noticed a stack of pot holders on a narrow table.
She wanted to stop and take a closer look at them, but Ida Mae moved along quickly, and Emma didn’t want to hold her up by taking the time to sort through the stack.
So she hurried her footsteps and entered the sewing room behind her quilting instructor.
For the next several hours, Ida Mae guided Emma through the process of sewing more basic patchwork squares, reminding her to keep her stitches small and even. This held the seams together tightly and neatly.
“I hope someday I’ll be experienced enough to make an unusual quilt,” Emma commented. “I’d like it to be something different that most people don’t have or even know about.”
Ida Mae grinned. “You’re thinking like a true quilt designer.”
Without taking her eyes off her quilting project, Emma said, “Thinking is one thing, and doing is another.”
“That is true,” Ida Mae agreed. “But in order to do something, one must first think about it.”
“I see your point.” Emma looked up. “Are the pot holders that I saw in the hallway for sale? I assume you must have made them.”
“They will be once I take them to the fabric store later this week.”
“Would it be possible for me to buy one? I’d like to give it to my grandma.”
“I have a better idea,” Ida Mae said. “Why don’t I show you how to make one yourself? If you don’t get it done today, you can finish the next time you come for a lesson.”
Emma bobbed her head. “I like that idea. And once I learn how to make a pot holder, I can do more and give them to other family members, like my mamm, and my sister Rachel, who will probably be getting married soon.”
“That’s a good idea, Emma. Pot holders make nice gifts.” Ida Mae cleared her throat a couple of times. “Umm … there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“What would that be?”
“This morning during breakfast, Ivan told us that he’d asked if he could begin courting you.”
Emma’s cheeks grew warm. It wasn’t really a surprise that he’d told them, since her grandparents had been informed last evening, but she was surprised that Ida Mae had brought it up and had said she wanted to talk about it.
Does Ivan’s mother disapprove of her son going out with me? Emma wondered.
As if sensing Emma’s discomfort, Ida Mae placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder and gave a few gentle pats. “You’re a very sweet girl, Emma, and Ivan obviously cares for you, or he wouldn’t have asked if he could court you.”
Emma sat quietly and waited, for she felt certain Ivan’s mother had more to say.
“Ivan’s father and I have no objections to you and Ivan seeing each other socially, but I do have a concern about what will happen to your relationship when you return to your home in Shipshewana.”
Emma shifted uneasily on her chair. She’d been thinking about this herself, and she hadn’t come up with anything she could feel good about. Breaking things off with Ivan, when the time came for her to return home, was not a good option. The mere thought of it caused Emma heartache.
Emma felt sure that Ida Mae was waiting for her response, so she swallowed past the lump in her throat and said, “I guess when the time comes for me to leave Arthur and return to my parents’ home, Ivan and I will have to work things out so that we can still see each other from time to time.
And of course, we would keep in touch through letter writing. ”
Ida Mae’s lips parted like she was about to say something more, when Ivan bounded into the room.
“Oh good, you’re still here.” He grinned at Emma. “I was hoping I’d get home before you left, because there’s something I want to ask you.”
“Well, before you get into that,” his mother said, “I’m going to the kitchen for something cold to drink. Would either of you appreciate a glass of root beer?”
“I would,” Ivan was quick to reply. “It would surely hit the spot on this hot, muggy day.”
Emma nodded. “That does sound good, Ida Mae. Would you like my help serving it?”
“No, that’s okay,” she replied with a shake of her head. “You two stay here and talk about whatever my son wants to say.” Ivan’s mother turned and skirted out of the room.
He pulled up a chair close to Emma, glancing at the quilting project in her lap. “Looks like you’ve had a busy day here with my mamm.”
“Jah.”
“So now it’s time for you to relax awhile.”
“I guess so.”
Ivan struggled with the desire to take hold of Emma’s hand, but he didn’t want to embarrass her in case Mama came back sooner than expected. So instead, Ivan leaned a little closer and said, “How would you like to go on a picnic with me, Norma, and her boyfriend, Timothy, this coming Saturday?”
“That sounds nice,” she said, “but I’ll need to check with Grandma first, to make sure she doesn’t need me for anything that day. It won’t involve swimming, will it?” she asked with furrowed brows.
“No, the place we were thinking of going doesn’t have a body of water, not even a stream running through.”
Her facial features relaxed. “That’s good to hear. A picnic does sound like fun. Maybe I can make those chocolate cupcakes again, only this time, I’ll make sure that I’m using sugar and not salt.”
Ivan chuckled. “Before I went home last night, your grandma told me what had happened and how she’d been to blame for putting the wrong lids on the containers.”
“True, but I should have been able to tell the difference between sugar and salt.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, you know that, Emma?” Ivan asked.
She merely shrugged in response.
Ivan figured she wasn’t willing to admit it.
That didn’t matter. Since he and Emma enjoyed doing many of the same things, Ivan had decided that whenever he wasn’t working and Emma wasn’t busy learning to cook, sew, or quilt, he would come up with a plan for them to get together.
Ivan wanted to make the best use of their time before Emma returned to her parents’ home.