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“We sure will.” Katherine smiled at Selina.
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Sure will. In fact,” Katherine rose, “I’ll be right back.” She left the room.
“Are you making quilts for your beds?” Selina asked the girls.
“No, we’re making them for our dollies,” Rosie, the bubbly one of the two answered.
“What color you gonna make them?”
“Mine’s going to be pink and yellow.” Rosie puffed out her little chest.
“I’m making mine in two different shades of blue.” Emily picked up the squares and showed them to Selina.
“Blue is my favorite color.” Selina ran her fingers over the dark and light blue squares.
“I could make mine blue, too.” The sad look on Rosie’s face made Selina wonder what that was all about until she realized she’d made a big to-do over blue and Rosie’s was pink.
Selina placed herself in a circle on the floor with them and looked at Rosie. “Rosie, I like pink and yellow right fine, too. Purple, orange, red—you name it and I like it. So don’t you be changin’ your mind ’cause someone else likes somethin’ different. You just be yourself because the good Lord made you just the way you are. Perfect and just right.”
With a big smile Rosie picked up the pink and yellow squares and got right back to work on her quilt.
Sitting with the girls, watching their faces, settled a longing deep inside her to have children of her own.
Katherine came into the room, carrying tied stacks of squared material. Selina leaped up and took part of them from her.
Her mother-in-law set her stack down. “Here you go, Selina. Take your pick of colors.”
“Thank you kindly, Katherine.”
“Please, I’d be honored if you would call me Mother.”
Selina smiled. “I’d be right honored, too…Mother.” It felt strange being all formal and calling her mother, but no one else called Katherine Ma, and neither would she. Selina whipped her attention away from Katherine so she wouldn’t see the tears building in her eyes. No one could take her ma’s place, but it felt nice to have a ma again.
She studied the stacks of squares. Each one had a different pattern. They were all so pretty, and not wanting to make the girls feel badly by choosing blue, she asked, “What’s Michael’s favorite color?”
“He doesn’t have one. Says he likes them all,” Katherine answered.
That made it easy. Selina chose a variety of colors. Then, Katherine, with the help of the girls, showed Selina how to sew the blocks together, something called piecing. Having Katherine show her how to do this made her miss her mama. Well, she wouldn’t think about that now. She’d just enjoy her time with the girls and Katherine.
Two hours later, Selina excused herself so she could hurry home and fix lunch for Michael. She flew around the kitchen fixing lunch and had just finished when Michael came in the door holding his arm, blood staining his shirt sleeve and handkerchief. Selina’s attention shot to him. She tossed the dish towel onto the table and bolted toward him. “Michael! What happened?”
Michael’s arm throbbed. “I snagged it on a nail.” Now he wished he would have gone ahead and fixed that stupid nail sticking out of the fence yesterday, but no, he’d been so excited about picking up his bride, he had forgotten all about it. Seemed he’d been doing a lot of things he regretted lately.
“Well, let me take a look at it.” She unwrapped the blood-soaked handkerchief from around his arm. “This thing sure is deep. You’re gonna need stitches. Got any thread and a needle?”
Needle and thread? You’ve got to be kidding. He yanked his arm back to his chest. No way would he let someone other than a doctor sew him up. “Yes. But I just dropped by to grab a bite and to let you know that I was heading into town to have Doc Berg take a look at it.”
“Ain’t no need to bother the doctor when I can take care of it for you.”
Of course she could. “I’m sure you can, but after lunch I’ll head into town just the same. Thank you.”
Selina planted her hands on her small waist. “Nonsense. I been sewin’ up cuts for as long as I can remember. I’m good at it, too. Fetch me that thread and needle or I’ll find it myself. Got any clean rags? And some moonshine?”
“Moonshine? What’s that?”
“Homemade corn liquor.”
“The only alcohol I have is some whiskey for medicinal purposes.”
“That’ll work just fine. Fetch it, too.”
“Bossy,” he murmured under his breath as he headed to do her bidding.
