from Double Wedding Ring

The Quilt

It was well after 2:00 am and as usual 20-year-old Mara Buckingham had lost track of the time trying to finish a project that was already a day late. Money had been tight lately with her taking classes again, so she needed to take whatever work she could get even though her fiancé Kyle Weinstein made a good living. Mara felt guilty that she was not always able to contribute 50/50 to their living expenses and Kyle always commented on how much more he made than her. She had been raised an only child by her mother and though her mother had always struggled, she had always been able to provide for Mara. Her mother had conceived her while visiting England on a college trip and her biological father chose not to take part in Mara’s life. She heard from him a few times, but never formed a relationship with him.

Mara had long, blond curly hair, the kind that forms little ringlets. It was so unruly that she usually just pulled in into a ponytail. Her eyes were deep cocoa brown with lush eyelashes that most girls were jealous of. She was average height with a decent build and when she smiled, her cheeks were like apples and a small dimple formed but lately, Mara didn’t smile as much as she used too.

Tonight, Mara had promised Kyle that she would be home before midnight, but again, she had lost track of time. By now he was already angry with her, so she grabbed the old quilt she kept in the studio and sat down on the couch, she was too tired to make the 30-minute drive back to the suburbs at this hour and she knew what was waiting for her at home. For now she would curl up under the warm quilt and savor the solitude until daybreak. Tomorrow held the promise of a new day.

Looking out the wall of windows Mara could see the lights of the city in the distance, she could hear the sounds of traffic on the I-75 freeway and she felt comfort knowing that no matter what, life went on around her. Under the quilt, everything felt peaceful, she traced the wedding ring pattern with her index finger and lovingly looked at the patterns of each piece brushing her finger over the tattered edges and imagining her great grandmother Millie’s sisters sewing each stitch by hand. She imagined the smell of coffee and fried chicken filling the tiny five-room house in the foothills of the Appalachia Mountains. The men out back feeding the pigs and getting ready to play the fiddle and share some moonshine. This quilt was a wedding gift for her grandma Millie, made from all the old, tattered clothing that they could no longer patch or repair, not a single scrap of material was wasted. Each sister was gifted a quilt like this on their wedding day and Mara had grown up hearing the stories of the double wedding ring quilts. Even now she could picture her great auntie’s excitedly pointing to a flower pattern and talking about the beautiful Sunday dress it used to be, or a soft, lacy piece that had been part of their mothers wedding dress. Mara’s mother was going to throw it out when her grandmother passed a few years ago because it was so old and tattered, but Mara couldn’t let it go. She sewed a new backing to the quilt, added some wool batting and repaired as much as she could. The quilt made her feel at peace when she pulled it over her and all her troubles melted under the warmth and the memories of her great aunties hands lovingly adding each stitch. She felt their presence now as if their arms were wrapped around her giving her the strength she needed to keep going.