The Hope of Hattie Phelan: Volume I

14

Quilting

After talking with Aunt Margarette about Lincoln, memories of my ma came up in my head. I remembered praying and praying for her when she had caught scarlet fever. Da was the only one who was immune so I was with the baby. Da hadn't wanted to name him until Ma was more conscious, but I had secretly named him Colin. But then both the baby and I had caught the fever, and I was in bed in a state of delirium I had never been in before or since. When the fever broke, I woke up without Ma or Colin.

I pulled the weeds out more aggressively as I felt a weight in my chest. As much as I had tried to hide it over the past two years, I was angry. Angry at God for not answering prayers. I could almost physically feel the bitterness well up inside of me. I knew He was real—I had seen him answer my ma in prayer time and time again, but with me? He didn't listen to me, and that made me feel so broken... Why didn't He answer me? Was it because I had only been thirteen when I had lifted my voice in prayer? My heart ached to be heard and to cry out to God, but I knew there was no hope in that. He would just fail me again.

"Hattie! Nancy!" I heard a voice behind me. I dropped the handful of weeds out of my hand, turning to look. It was Essie who was waving over at us as she leaped over a pile of tools to reach us. Nancy jumped to her feet, wiping her dirty hands on her checkered apron.

"Essie!" Nancy waved. I waved back as well, leaning on the fence post as Essie neared with her basket in one arm and her hand on her hat.

"I just talked with Miss Margarette!" Essie beamed as we looked at her curiously. "She said you all can come to my quilting club if you both are interested. It's on Wednesdays at seven in the evening. I'm only inviting a few people over. I already cleared it with your mama, Nan, so it's just up to you if you are interested."

"Of course!" Nancy said, grinning. "That sounds fun!"

I had never quilted anything before. I had seen Ma do it, but I had never learned to do it. It seemed very particular and fiddly, so I never asked to learn.

"I don't know how," I answered as Nancy and Essie glanced my way.

"Oh, we'll teach you!" Nancy offered, jumping and then clapping her hands together. "I have some great scraps to use and they will look so good together!"

"I can't wait to see them!" Essie replied. "Well, I promised that I wouldn't keep you from your chores for too long, so I'll be going. See you tonight!"

-=+=-

I firmly knocked on the front door of the Findlay house, nervously waiting outside. Nancy was practically jumping to quilt, while Constance was quietly holding her sewing box as we waited. I compared the two and almost laughed. While Nancy was a ball of energy, Constance was, well, constant. They both could be fretful, but the Irish woman was easily more so than my cousin, always worrying about something.

"You alright?" Nancy asked, looking at Constance, who seemed to be off in her thoughts.

"O' course, I'm alright," Constance said, letting out a deep breath. Before Nancy could answer, the door opened revealing Essie and a tall, skinny boy who looked a lot like her.

"Hello!" Essie greeted us, nodding to the boy beside her. "Oh, this is Ramsay, my twin."

"Howdy!" He nodded his head before turning on his heel and walking back inside. Martha, Essie's younger sister, quickly replaced him in the doorway as she beamed up at us.

"Hi! Look what I can do!" she giggled before running between us to go outside. We watched as Martha started climbing a tree in the yard.

"Martha, Ma said you are not allowed to do that," Esther called out to her sister, who pouted before dropping to the ground with agility.