The Friendship Star Quilt (32 page)

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Authors: Patricia Kiyono,Stephanie Michels

BOOK: The Friendship Star Quilt
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“Brad, I think I—”

They broke off with self-conscious laughs.

“You go first,” he said and waved her to talk.

“I want to thank you for everything. I knew I couldn't go back with Jeffrey, but you gave me the strength to stand up to him. I'll never be able to thank you enough. And Mario and George and Detective Moore, too,” she added hastily. “I've never been part of town life before. Grams' farm was way out in the country, so we never had people around us to watch out for us and to worry about us. It's a wonderful feeling to be part of this.”

“So you're staying?”

“I guess so.” She shrugged and fiddled with her gloves. “At least for now.”

“How about staying for good?”

Mouth suddenly dry, she raised her head and gave him a questioning glance.

“I don't want you to go away, Anne. I want you to stay in Grandville. Jennie and I need you. Not just as a mom for her, although you're great at that. I want you stay because you're an incredible woman and very important to me. Please, Anne Brown or Sophia Marrone—or whatever name you want me to call you—please say you'll stay here. You belong here, with us. With me.”

“Brad, I don't know what to say. You know I love Jennie, but you and I—”

“Shh!” He put his arms around her and drew her closer to him then pressed a finger against her lips. “You don't need to answer now. I know we haven't known each other very long, but I know how I feel. I can't deny my feelings for you any longer.”

He lowered his head towards her and brushed a soft kiss against her lips.

“I could have throttled your ex-husband for frightening and hurting you,” he said then slanted his mouth against hers and kissed her more deeply.

His passion ignited her own hunger. She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered herself to the kiss. When they came up for air, he caressed her face tenderly. His fingertips brushed away the tears she hadn't realized she'd shed.

“I love you, Anne. You mean the world to me. Please, tell me you won't leave, that you feel something for me, too. Tell me you want to stay. Not for Jennie, not for the town… but for me.”

Epilogue

The crowd erupted in cheers as the Rivertown Marching Band took the field for their final half time show of the football season. The night might be cold and a bit wet, but nothing could dampen spirits as fans waved blue-and-white pom-poms or team flags with the name and jersey number of the their favorite players. Most people were proudly dressed in the Seahawk colors, as well. In fact, the home stands were a sea of light blue-and-white scarves, tees, jackets and sweatshirts. Several students had gone so far as to paint their faces half white and half blue to support the team.

“This is so much fun,” Jennie exclaimed hugging Anne's arm, “but the band show is my favorite part.”

Their prime seats on the fifty-yard line, halfway up the home bleachers, had given the little girl a great view of the touchdown that put the Sea Hawks in the lead at the half. Anne wasn't sure how much of the game the child understood, but Jennie bounced in excitement, sending the blue-and-white ribbons in her ponytail dancing and nearly dislodging the team cap she wore.

“Half time is my favorite part, too,” Anne admitted as three drummers tapped out a quick cadence to get the musicians in formation.

But Anne's eyes weren't on the band or on the strutting drum major or even on the color guard in their cute new uniforms. Her attention was focused solely on the tall, broad-shouldered man who stood on the sidelines next to the drum major's platform. The wind playfully ruffled a few strands of his dark hair and her fingers itched to do the same thing.

Later,
she promised.
After
Jennie is
in bed for the night.
Then she and Brad could get cozy and…

“Daddy, Daddy! Here we are,” Jennie called once the musicians were in position and Brad turned to the stands to bow. His gaze immediately zoomed to the cheering little girl then settled on Anne.

He was so sexy it was hard not to have lustful thoughts even in a public place like this. She detected the slight wink he sent her way as if he'd read her thoughts. She blushed and raised her hand to blow him a kiss, and the diamonds in her wedding ring twinkled as brightly as the future she now let herself believe in.

He turned back to direct the band, and Jennie snuggled contentedly against her side. Anne's heart overflowed as she wrapped her arm around protectively around the child she loved so dearly. Life had changed so dramatically since Jennie and her dad had entered Anne's life. Back then, she had been so frightened and alone. Now, she had a loving husband, a precious daughter, a town full of wonderful friends, and a newly redecorated home—the wedding gift from Brad's family, who said the newlyweds needed furnishings that reflected their tastes not those of his late wife. She'd never felt so loved or cherished and had been certain her life couldn't possibly be any more blessed.

Amazingly, a phone call that afternoon from her doctor proved her wrong. Against almost insurmountable odds, she was pregnant with Brad's baby!

Now, as her husband directed the band, Anne surreptitiously stroked her flat stomach, filled with wonder and gratitude. She could hardly wait until they got home. She had it all planned. Every night, after they put Jennie to bed, she and Brad would cuddle and talk or watch a bit of television. Tonight, they'd snuggle in front of the fireplace under her Friendship Star quilt, her symbol of her new beginning.

It would be the perfect spot to share the news.

About the Authors

Stephanie Michels considers herself a “Jill of All Trades.” During her corporate career, she worked as a computer trainer, advertising copywriter, personnel agent, radio DJ, magazine columnist, and a financial planner among other things. She recently left those behind in order to focus on writing full time.

Raised in Michigan, she lived in South Carolina, Missouri, and Germany, before returning to the Mitten State to raise her family. When she isn't writing, you can usually find her reading or spending time with family, friends, and Beta Sigma Phi sisters.

The Friendship Star Quilt
is her second novel with writing partner, Patricia Kiyono.

Patricia Kiyono retired from public school teaching, and is now an adjunct faculty member at Grand Valley State University, where she instructs future teachers. Born in Japan, she lives in southwest Michigan with her husband, not far from their five children and nine grandchildren. In addition to writing, she enjoys sewing, scrapbooking, playing in local bands and orchestras, and taking care of grandchildren.

Also from Stephanie Michels and Patricia Kiyono

Chapter One

"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! Love you!"

"Bye, honey. Love you, too,” Sylvia Miller called back then laughed as a shower of iridescent bubbles surrounded her daughter Lynne and new son-in-law.

The tiny orbs floated around the couple, blending with the sparkling beadwork on Lynne's sweeping wedding gown and adding gemlike twinkles to her veil. The newlyweds laughed with delight as they raced, hand-in-hand, through the bubbles blown at them by the wedding guests. Her daughter looked like Cinderella rushing down the castle steps to her carriage. Only this time, it was a gaily decorated, red Mustang convertible, and her handsome prince was right at her side.

Wasn't it just yesterday that Lynne and her older brothers had been playing make-believe in the big sandbox in the backyard?

The time had flown by so quickly. The kids' mud pies and toy cars had quickly given way to rock posters and laptop computers when they'd reached their teens. Now, her babies had grown up and left the nest. The boys both had thriving careers in Chicago, and Lynne was moving on to a new life with Ron.

As always, Dave seemed to read her mood. His arm tightened around her waist. She leaned into him, grateful for his unspoken comfort, as she continued to wave to the newlyweds until their convertible disappeared from sight. Their guests returned to the air-conditioned comfort of the church hall, but Sylvia remained outside with her family, blinking back the nostalgic tears that clouded her vision. It wouldn't do to be caught crying on such a joyous occasion.

Too late.

"Waterworks alert." Dave Junior's cheeky warning told Sylvia she'd been busted. "Mom's about to cry," he added with a grin.

Her eldest son resembled his father more every day. They were both tall and handsome in their tuxes. However, D2 – as the family called him – appeared to be a lot more comfortable in formalwear than Dave was. Her poor hubby had fidgeted with his starched collar ever since he'd put it on that morning. He'd done the same thing on their own wedding day.

More tears blurred her vision at the tender memory. She blinked again then lifted her chin and returned her son's smile. "I am not!"

"You really expect us to believe that?" Her middle child chuckled. John was a couple inches shorter than his father and brother but shared their good looks. Now, his brown eyes twinkled as he leaned down to touch his forehead against hers. "Admit it, Mom, you've cried at every major occasion in our lives."

"Major?" Dave echoed. "Are you kidding? Boys, your mother would cry at a stop sign if it reminded her of one of you."

"Can I help it if I'm so proud of my family?"

Her husband sent their sons a knowing look. "All I can say is it's a good thing I have a decent job. I could retire in luxury on the small fortune I've spent on her waterproof mascara all these years."

"Oh stop it," she protested and gave him a playful swat on the arm. "I'm not that bad,"

Her husband chuckled and gave her the killer smile that had won her heart back when he was a varsity football player and she was a lowly high school sophomore. Time might have threaded gray through his wavy, black hair and thickened his waistline a bit, but even after twenty-six years of marriage, that smile could still make her go weak in the knees.

Twenty-six years. It was hard to believe so much time had passed since the day they'd been the young couple driving away on their honeymoon. Of course, she and Dave had only headed from their quiet ceremony to the cozy home they'd purchased – the same ranch home in the suburb of Grandville, Michigan, where they had raised their family and still lived. Lynne and Ron, on the other hand, were heading to the airport for a romantic two-week getaway in Europe.

Sylvia envied them a little. She'd always wanted to travel but had never been further from Grand Rapids than a few camping weekends on the shore of nearby Lake Michigan. Still, she had no regrets. She and Dave would have the time to travel once they both took their early retirements. She'd already resigned her position as a professor of mathematics at Grand Valley State University. The board had accepted her letter of notice at the end of the semester. Soon, Dave would retire from his CPA position with Davis Andrews, a prestigious national consulting firm. She smiled, thinking of the thick bundle of travel brochures she'd stashed in the drawer of her sewing table just waiting for that day to finally arrive.

"...should have let one of the boys drive them to the airport," Dave grumbled now as he held open the foyer door for her. The boys had apparently gone inside while she'd been lost in her thoughts.

Probably to avoid the
usual lecture
on thriftiness
,
she thought, turning her head to hide her amusement.

"Long-term parking is such a waste of money," Dave continued. "They've already spent far more than they should have on this honeymoon. Ron and Lynne could have made a substantial down payment on a house with all that they're blowing on the next two weeks."

"Honey, Ron already has a beautiful home in Heritage Hills. Lynne loves it."

"Maybe so, but those old homes need a lot of upkeep. Do you have any idea how much it costs nowadays to replace a boiler or a heat pump in one of those places?"

Sylvia smiled indulgently as they took the steps down to the church's family center in the lower level.
Leave it to my conservative CPA to think of furnaces on a glorious June evening.

"And what if Lynne gets pregnant?" he asked. "Or Ron could lose his job. Anything can happen in this economy. They should have put the money in the bank so they'd be prepared."

Sylvia smiled and hugged him affectionately. "Oh, David Miller, I love you!" she declared.

He stopped on the landing while she was still on the step above him and turned. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers and murmured: "Even after all these years?"

"Hmm, let me think about that." She pretended to consider the idea.

"Maybe this will help," he suggested, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her toward him then lowered his lips to deliver a kiss so passionate it nearly took her breath away. He pulled her closer, molding her body against his and kissed her again.

"Oh, yeah," she whispered when they broke from the intimate embrace. "Even after all these years."

"Well that's good," he replied. He brushed his fingers over her cheek. "Because I love you, too, Sylvie, more every day."

He gave her a quick kiss then held out his arm to her. "Shall we rejoin our guests?"

She nodded happily. With his arm around her waist, they went down the remaining steps to the family center.

The church's wedding coordinator had done a wonderful job with simple decorations. With Dave and the boys' help, she'd draped the ceiling with huge swags of white chiffon fabric. Inside the folds, she'd tucked dozens of sapphire blue and pale teal balloons to match the colors of the bridesmaids' dresses. Suspended in the center of the ceiling, where the swags met, was a huge pair of white wedding bells surrounded by spirals of ribbon in the same sapphire and teal. In the middle of each of the hall's tables, blue and teal gerbera daisies floated in a glass bowl centerpiece. Now that the festivities had wound down, Sylvia could take a moment and savor the lovely setting. She and Dave moved around the room, visiting with their guests, chatting leisurely, and making certain everyone had had enough to eat and drink.

"I see Sue and Ellen already have things almost packed up," Sylvia remarked as they neared the long, linen-covered table where two of her best friends, Ellen Wheeler and Sue Visser, had presided over the display of wedding gifts. Now, the two women were busily boxing up the gifts and cards to make it easier to transport them home.

"Want me to find the boys so they can carry some of this stuff to our car before they head back to Chicago?" Dave asked.

She nodded. "Great idea. I'll help the girls pack up whatever is left. It shouldn't take us more than a few minutes to finish."

He gave her a quick hug then went to find their sons. Sylvia's friends looked up as she joined them then hurried over to give her big hugs.

"Everything went so well, Syl!" Ellen exclaimed. "Lynne made such a beautiful bride."

"You look lovely, too." Sue agreed, continuing to tape shut the box she held. "You always look lovely, but that shade of blue is stunning with your black hair."

"Thanks. It's Dave's favorite color," Sylvia told them then motioned to the pile of boxes on the table. "What can I do to help?"

"Just stand there and talk to us. We're almost done," Ellen replied, reaching for the next gift. It was the exquisite bedspread their quilting group had finished for Lynne and Ron. The newlyweds had opened it before dinner so everyone could admire it.

"Let me have that one," Sylvia said and reached out to take the beautiful gift. She ran her hand over it, lightly tracing the dainty stitches with a fingertip. "I still can't believe we got it done in time."

"We probably wouldn't have if it hadn't been for Lila," Ellen said then looked behind Sylvia and laughed. "Speak of the old slave driver, and here she is."

"Did I just hear you call me an ‘old slave driver,' Ellen Wheeler?" a petite older woman with carefully tinted blonde hair bustled up to them.

"How about if I just say ‘here's our slave driver now'?"

"That's much better." Lila Haggerty nodded. She might have celebrated her seventy-fifth birthday recently, but the little dynamo would be the last person to acknowledge her age. Besides, she could still run circles around most of them. She gave Sylvia a quick hug then paused to admire the quilt. "This is definitely one of the prettiest quilts I've had the pleasure of working on."

"I could never have done it without you," Sylvia said. "All of you. I can't find words to thank you enough."

"No thanks are needed," Sue and Ellen said almost as one voice.

"You would have done the same if it had been one of us," Lila added. "Everyone knows that. Besides most of us have watched Lynne grow up. So this is our way of showing her our love."

The Wedding Ring quilt had been a gift of love from start to finish. Sylvia had special ordered the fabric for it, laid out the pattern under Lila's watchful eye, then had painstakingly hand-stitched the design pieces herself. Afterwards, Sue, Ellen, and the other women in the quilt group had come forward to help assemble the blocks and hand-quilt the patterned top to the batting and plain backing. Lila had been even more determined than Sylvia to finish this quilt in time for the wedding. She'd organized the other quilters and went to the Stitching Post herself every day in order to oversee the time-consuming hand quilting. The other women had worked under her direction so every stitch was uniform and perfect. The spritely widow had far more quilting experience than anyone else in the group. In fact, over her lifetime, Lila had probably made more quilts than all of them combined, and each quilt was a masterpiece of exquisite handwork, so the others were happy to learn from her.

Sylvia felt blessed to have such caring and loving friends. Their friendship went back a long time, almost to the days when she'd been a newlywed. In those days, she and Dave hadn't had much money, so they'd always been on the lookout for inexpensive entertainment. One weekend, they had visited a local quilt show and stopped to admire the beautiful pieces on display in Lila's booth. Sylvia told the quilter how she'd always wanted to try her hand at the craft. That's when Lila invited her to a small quilt shop in Grandville, The Stitching Post, where she and a few other women met each week to sew and socialize.

"We're a modern day quilting bee, but thankfully minus the corsets and petticoats," Lila had told her with her impish grin. “You should visit the group.”

Intrigued, Sylvia checked out the store the following Monday. While she was there, she met Myra Hodges, the store's friendly owner, as well as Sue and Ellen who had happened to be shopping that afternoon. They'd also invited Sylvia to come back on Tuesday evening to meet the others. The next evening, Sylvia had kissed Dave goodbye after dinner and returned to The Stitching Post. She'd met the rest of the group and learned they were making lap quilts to donate to the veteran's home for Christmas. The women had told her to pull up a chair then shared some of their own fabric scraps so she could lend a hand. With Lila's help, Sylvia had started on her very first quilt that night Over the years, as the hobby gained popularity, the small group grew from the handful of friends to a congenial group of more than two dozen members. Housewives and professional women, newlyweds and retirees. The friends ranged in age from early twenties to a new member who'd decided to take up quilting for her eightieth birthday.

"We're as different as the various fabrics in this quilt," Sylvia mused as she tucked the precious gift under her arm and carried it outside to the car.

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