“I think it just might have.” April bowed her head. “I’ll say grace this morning. For the first time in my life, I truly feel like I have something to be grateful for.”
As usual, Flynn took his place between the two women and picked up his needle to start his section of the quilt. He would much rather be helping Jackson make some piece of furniture, or at the very least sanding one, but the truth was that he was getting more curious every day about what was in that hope chest. If Nanny Lucy left a diary lying about with practically her whole life story in it, then what would they find in the hope chest?
“I’m seeing more of a pattern here.” He pointed to a section they were working on that day. “The quilt actually starts back here at the beginning when we were babies. I bet the first squares came from blankets that she made for us when we were born. Then there’s a row or two from when we were toddlers. The first ones we actually recognized are right there”—he moved his finger back a few rows—“where we remembered the first-day-of-school things. Today I’m seeing a scrap from a shirt she made for me when I was about nine. I wanted to go to the beach so I could see the ocean, so she made me a Hawaiian shirt—at least that’s what I called it. You can see the palm trees and part of the parrot in this square.”
“You’re right,” April said. “Look ahead at some of the other squares. This whole quilt is made from remnants of the things she made for us. I didn’t even know she kept them. Hey, there’s a square with a stain on it! I remember when I spilled the communion wine, or I guess I should say grape juice, on that dress when I was about twelve years old.”
“And there’s one with a smear of mustard that I got on my blouse when she let us roast hot dogs over an open fire out in the yard. She fussed because it had dried before she got it in the washer and the stain didn’t come out,” Nessa said.
“That last row is the year we were all fifteen. Remember she made us matching shirts? I see part of the material over there,” Nessa said. “But why would she save bits of all those things all these years? We’ve all just turned thirty-one. Some of this stuff has to be as old as we are.”
“I think it’s her way of letting us know that she loved us,” April said.
Flynn couldn’t believe she’d said that, not after learning so much about her relationship with Nanny Lucy the night before. “Why would she treat you like she did if she loved you?”
“All she had was her quilting. There she was, saddled with a miserable lifestyle she didn’t want,” April said. “Kids and grandkids that disappointed her and made her remember her sin. Her husband quit paying attention to her when she got pregnant, so that had to affect her, too. Uncle Isaac wanted to please her, so he went into the ministry, but I wonder if he truly loves what he does. Uncle Matthew is constantly looking for love. My mother probably just wanted someone to show her affection.”
Complete silence filled the shed for a full minute. Flynn couldn’t think of a single word to say, because April was right. His father was constantly looking for love and never finding it, just as Flynn had done.
Finally Nessa nodded. “You probably hit the nail right on the head, April, but I’m wondering what Nanny Lucy might have done with her life if she hadn’t been dealt such a raw deal. Her sewing is so good, I wonder if she might have been a home economics teacher.”
April held up both palms. “There are no buts here, Nessa. I can read, and a lot of what I read in self-help books is beginning to make sense now. We can’t go back and redo or undo the past, but we don’t have to let it define us, like it evidently has Uncle Isaac and Uncle Matthew and even my mother when she was alive, right along with all three of us.”
Flynn went back to stitching. “My mother made the comment once that my father changed when she got pregnant with me. That scares the bejesus out of me. What if I break this gene thing that got passed from our grandfather to my dad and now to me, only to find out that I can have a meaningful relationship, but then I don’t like my wife when she gets pregnant?”
“When does Uncle Matthew get tired of his women?” Nessa asked.
“Well, it’s sure not when one of them gets pregnant. He had a vasectomy as soon as he could. Mama told me that when I asked if she thought Dad would have more children,” Flynn answered.
“Think back,” April said. “What’s the longest he’s ever stayed with a woman?”
“My mother, I guess. He was with her about six years after I was born, but he wasn’t faithful.” Flynn frowned. “The rest of his marriages have lasted about two years; then he’s off on the chase again. You know”—he paused a moment before he went on—“I just bet that’s why she treated my mama like a daughter, and the rest of her family so horrible. She kind of bonded with Mama because of her own past.”
Nessa snapped the fingers on her left hand. “You’re probably right about that, and it’s the chase, like you said before. I bet that’s what Grandpa liked, too. He liked the excitement of the chase, then the first little while of the affair or relationship, then he got bored. Nanny Lucy was just a phase that he went through. I hate to say that.”
“From what I read, he had to marry her to get into bed with her. She’d never been with a man when they married,” April said. “If he liked the chase, then I guess the only way he could win with Nanny Lucy was to marry her.”
“Sixty years ago, that wasn’t uncommon,” Nessa said. “Not even around thirty years ago, because Mama says that she and Daddy were both virgins. Of course she added, ‘just like God declared they should be.’”
Flynn chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Nessa turned to glare at him.
“I bet you got the talk about how it would be so much better if you abstained until you got married, right? I can just hear Uncle Isaac drilling that into your head. The idea of him trying to talk you into anything hit me as humorous,” Flynn answered.
Nessa raised her eyebrows and nodded in agreement. “It was Mama who gave me the talk. Daddy would never discuss sex with me. He picked out a husband and wanted me to get married the summer after I graduated, but I refused. That came close to causing a war.”
“Nanny Lucy was proud of you for doing that,” April said.
“Really?” Nessa leaned forward to look past Flynn at her cousin on the other end of the quilting frame.
“Truth.” April laid a hand over her heart. “I was jealous that she bragged on you for standing up for what you wanted. But then I was angry with her at the same time for not being proud of me when I stood up for what I wanted.”
“We really are a screwed-up bunch, aren’t we?” Maybe the happy-ever-after kind of love was just a myth perpetrated by romance books and TV shows. Even in his head that sounded like psychobabble, so he put it out of his mind.
But it didn’t stay gone very long. As soon as they finished their morning quilting and went their separate ways to do other things before lunchtime, Flynn headed down the path to the waterfall. When he was sure neither of his cousins had followed him, he sat down on the grass with his back against a scrub oak tree and called his father.