The Lover's Knot Read Online Free PDF

quizzed by each member of the club. It didn’t surprise me that Maggie was the leader, even with Eleanor in the room. A former librarian, she had raised eleven children and now had twenty-five grandchildren. Every one of them had at least one quilt, hand sewn by Maggie, who didn’t believe any machine, even a sewing machine, could do as good a job as a person.
    Natalie was twenty-eight, only one year older than me, and the mother of a ten-month-old. She had a husband everyone in the group described as “tall, dark, and handsome,” which made Natalie roll her eyes. Her mother, Susanne, was the one with the makeup counter on her face. She turned out to be the artist of the group. Her quilts had won ribbons at national shows, and one had even been featured in a magazine.
    “I got married very young,” she said to me. “Too young, I think. Didn’t have a chance to figure out who I was, as they say.”
    “Have you figured it out yet?” came a voice from the other side of the group. Bernadette, known in the group as Bernie, was a hangover from of the sixties, now in her sixties. She was another familiar face among the crowd. I knew I had been introduced and reintroduced to her over the years, but the only thing I’d ever learned about her was that she owned the pharmacy in town and she had a warm, friendly face.
    Susanne smiled toward Bernie. “Have I figured myself out yet?” she laughed. “I don’t think I want to know anymore. I certainly don’t want to know who my husband is.”
    The others laughed with her. “I was nineteen,” said Maggie. “I found out pretty quickly it isn’t always roses and I love yous.”
    “You got roses?” shouted Bernie. “I don’t think any of my husbands got me roses.”
    “Why would you marry men who were so unromantic?” Natalie asked.
    “The sex was good,” Bernie retorted. All the woman roared with laughter.
    “Bernie, we have a newcomer in the room,” my grandmother admonished.
    Bernie looked at me. “She won’t be a newcomer for long.” Bernie leaned in. “I have stories that could make even a girl living in New York blush.” Then she looked toward Eleanor. “But I won’t.” She turned to the fifth member of the group. “Carrie here, she has a romantic story to tell, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
    Carrie was, it looked to me, in her late forties. She began to tell me about herself but was interrupted by Bernie and Natalie, who felt they could tell Carrie’s life story much better. Apparently she had married right out of college, divorced three years later, and spent the next fifteen looking for Mr. Right, while amassing a small fortune as a New York stockbroker. When he didn’t appear, she decided to have a child. She quit her job, moved to Archers Rest, and scaled her lifestyle back so she could work as a consultant and stay home with her baby. It was a good plan, but she soon found a better one. Months after she gave birth to her son, she married his pediatrician. Now they also had a daughter.
    “It wasn’t quite what I expected,” she said to me. “But it worked out.” All the women voiced their agreements. It was a not very subtle nod to my uncertain future, but it was much appreciated.
    Every Friday, these woman cleared out a small amount of floor space amid an overflowing stock of fabric, patterns, rulers, and quilt-related books. Then they sat in a circle to gossip, eat sugar-laden treats and drink (only caffeinated) coffee. They passed around their latest quilting projects and complained about what they called UFOs, or “unfinished objects,” as Maggie explained.
    “It happens when you start something with a great deal of excitement and then run out of interest about halfway through,” Maggie told me.
    “Are we talking about marriage again?” Susanne laughed.
    “Stop putting marriage down,” her daughter Natalie protested. “Some of us are happily married.”
    Maggie let out an exaggerated sigh and continued. “The trick