“Who knows? The past can’t be changed, but the future is another matter.” April smiled.
A surge of love flowed from Nessa when she realized that April’s eyes didn’t look nearly as haunted as they had before. “I was worried that all this would send you over the edge for sure, but it seems to have made you stronger.”
“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