Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,113
her not to worry about it.
“You are a strong young woman, Emma,” Wendy said softly. “You’ve had to be. I worry that you had to be too strong. Because everyone around you was doing their very best to hold themselves together, and you saw that, and began to keep your own self all stitched together in one piece, all on your own.” Wendy looked out at the ocean. “You have to trust your heart.”
“But...hearts lie. And mine is so afraid.” She bit her lip. “And it wants different things. It wants everything. You can’t... You can’t have everything.”
“Why not?” Something shifted inside of Wendy. “Why not, Emma? Look at how little we are willing to hold on to in this life. I told myself I couldn’t have everything. I thought that I needed to punish myself forever. Because of my sins. The world didn’t punish me, God didn’t punish me—I did. I came up here with my girls, and I lied about who I was and how I’d gotten myself into my circumstances. I didn’t let myself fall in love. I didn’t let myself have a companion. Because I had decided that I didn’t deserve it.
“I’ve met someone, too,” Wendy said softly. “I never let myself be open to that, not in all the years I’ve been here. I thought I didn’t deserve it. Because of my past. But we don’t live in the past. We live now, and we store up for the future. But the past is done. It’s over. You can’t bring your father back, any more than I can. We can’t heal a wound by continuing to make it hurt.”
“But what...? What happens if I can’t have everything.”
“Then maybe it wasn’t everything. And as much as it doesn’t feel like it, you can fall in love with someone else. Or you can fall in love with another place. Because our hearts are big, and they change. They grow, and they expand. Why don’t you demand everything first. See where it gets you.”
“But Mom...”
“Your mother is strong. No less strong than you. You don’t need to protect her.”
“You tried to protect us.”
“And look where it got me. It all fell apart, years later. And maybe if it had fallen apart earlier... I wouldn’t be learning these lessons now, sitting here with you on my porch. Maybe I would’ve learned them when I was eighteen.”
Emma blinked. “I suppose...that’s the greatest gift,” Emma said. “That you, and Aunt Anna, and Mom... That I get to learn from you now.”
“I hope so,” Wendy said. “I hope that I can take all those rocks in my own road and break them down, and give you a smoother path. Because I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I can’t do anything about the past. But we can all try and have a better future. But what you want, and what you’re willing to accept from life, begins with you. I can’t tell you what the right thing is. I tried to control your mother, and I tried to control Anna. I wasn’t able to keep them from pain. Pain is part of life. It’s part of love. I hope you don’t have a heartbreak, Emma, but you might. You probably will. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t love. And it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have dreams.”
“But I’m scared.”
“I know. You loved your father. I loved your father. We all did. We knew that we would lose him earlier than we wanted. And we did. But what if we hadn’t loved him at all?”
Tears slipped down Emma’s cheeks, and Wendy felt moisture building in her own eyes. “I can’t think of anything sadder,” Emma said.
“Neither can I,” Wendy said. “Neither can I. Two things in this world are worth the pain, sweetheart. Love and dreams.”
Emma reached across the space between their chairs, and gripped Wendy’s hand.
And they sat like that, drinking lemonade and watching the ocean.
She looked at her granddaughter’s profile, proud and strong.
She wanted to protect that girl. But she was fierce and strong, and she was a fighter.
And she deserved everything in this world.
And Wendy suspected you couldn’t reach for everything without risk.
She couldn’t protect Emma.
But she could learn from her. From the bravery of youth.
Wendy suspected that she already had.
30
There is an answer now for my morning queasiness. Naomi and Rose are thrilled. I don’t know what to feel. I have not told him. Not even the lavender walls can cheer me.