Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,28
feels like... It feels like we’re starting over. And if we’re going to start over, then we might as well shake things up a little bit.”
“You’re advocating for shaking things up?” Anna asked. “I feel like I should check your temperature.”
“Not a dramatic shake-up, Anna.” Anna couldn’t tell if that was a pointed remark. “But... If you girls are going to be here to help, maybe we should try and take on some more meals. The couple of dinners that we’ve done for outdoor events and weddings and things have gone over hugely well. Perhaps it’s time we add them as a weekly event.”
“What spurred that?” Rachel asked.
“I need a distraction,” Wendy said. “And with Anna here now, and you with...more free time, and Emma helping out. Well, we can do it. So why not? We’re in no hurry. We can launch in spring when town is busier, and until then we can plan.”
Anna figured it was not the time to joke that she’d had a similar thought before cheating on her husband.
“That...sounds good to me,” Anna said cautiously.
Rachel’s face was doing something Anna couldn’t read. “Funnily enough I was just talking to Adam Campbell about pie,” she said.
“Were you?” Wendy asked.
“He gave me a free piece of pie from the diner the other night.”
Emma grimaced. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I threw it away. We had candy bars in the house. There was no need to try and choke that down.”
“Definitely not,” Anna said.
They might not be able to talk about much right now, but they could all agree that Adam’s pie was a travesty.
“Maybe we need to make pie. Well, not me,” Rachel said. “Anna.”
She was slightly surprised that her sister was suggesting that, but not mad.
She hadn’t realized that she would miss the act of being there for others that came with being a pastor’s wife. Yes, it had chafed in the end, but there had been a time when it had been her calling.
Thomas had joined the staff of Sunset Church a couple of years into their marriage, first as a youth pastor, then an associate pastor and finally as head pastor. Her role had evolved along with his and she’d honestly enjoyed it.
For the first ten years she’d been all in.
She’d coordinated most of the women’s events, and a lot of the community outreach. She’d spent days meeting with people, listening to their struggles. Praying for them, in earnest.
And as time went on she’d felt like her body was hollow and every word coming out of her mouth was just a practiced response.
One day she’d ended a conversation with “I’ll pray for you.”
As she’d walked away, she’d realized she probably wouldn’t. Not intentionally. But that at some point over time, those words had replaced the prayers.
Once she’d realized it, she’d begun to withdraw.
She’d still shown up to everything. She’d talked and she’d smiled. Her body was there. The rest of her wasn’t.
At first she’d been angry with herself.
Then she’d tried to talk to Thomas.
And tried.
And tried.
Can we go out more?
What about a day of rest?
We haven’t had sex in a month.
I miss you.
And then she’d tried to seduce him. She’d been embarrassed, which was stupid. He was her husband of fourteen years; she shouldn’t be embarrassed about anything, but the distance between them made it feel like seducing a stranger.
Candles. A sexy dress. High heels.
He hadn’t even looked at her.
The next day she’d sought solace at the inn, and Michael had checked in for the first time.
He’d asked, “Are all innkeepers as beautiful as you are?”
“Let’s get baking,” Wendy said, her words jolting Anna from the past into the present moment. “Do you have ideas for what dinners we might make?”
That led to a lively discussion on how to accommodate different diets—which was something they had to contend with for breakfasts, but dinner was only bound to make it that much harder.
It was exhilarating. Like the world faded away. Like time faded away.
Like she hadn’t been married for the past fourteen years. Like Rachel’s husband hadn’t died.
Like they hadn’t been distant for two years and her mom wasn’t disappointed in her.
They were family again.
Here in the kitchen.
Like an open window letting fresh air into a stale room. And she could feel how much they all needed it. Could sense that they were all filling their lungs with this reprieve.
“Gluten,” Anna said, laughing in spite of herself, “is what makes you stretch. Without it, you break. Gluten holds us together.”