Elm Creek Quilts [12] The Winding Ways Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

not, but you deserve it.”
    Secretly, Judy thought so, too, but she didn’t dare say so aloud. Grandma was very particular, and Judy still might not have done enough to prove herself.
    On the afternoon of Easter Sunday, the ten granddaughters followed Grandma upstairs to her bedroom. She didn’t sit on the floor anymore, but in her chair by the window and instructed Miranda and Carrie to open the chest and carefully unfold the daisy quilt. Judy savored the story of Grandma’s wedding day. Though new details emerged with each retelling, the stories had become so familiar that Judy could close her eyes and envision the celebration as clearly as if she had been among the wedding party. Then the tulip quilt came out, and as they all admired it, Judy, with a practiced quilter’s eye, imagined the crosshatches and feathered plumes that would best enhance her great-grandmother’s graceful appliqué.
    “We might as well just tuck this in Judy’s suitcase today,” said Miranda, eighteen years old and full of plans for her upcoming high school graduation. The other cousins offered teasing sighs and laments of agreement, except for Carrie. Although each of the cousins would have gladly taken the tulip quilt top home had Grandma offered it, all but Judy, Carrie, and ten-year-old Beth had long ago abandoned any hope that they would ever quilt well enough to meet their grandmother’s exacting standards. Even Carrie had brought nothing new to show how her skills had improved over the past year, and although Beth proudly showed off the Seamstress badge she had earned in Girl Scouts, she had only two crib quilts to her credit.
    “That’s unkind,” snapped Grandma, gesturing to Miranda to gather up the quilt top. Startled, Miranda roused herself and put the pretty tulips away for another year while her cousins exchanged looks of astonishment. Never had their special time with Grandma ended so abruptly.
    Miranda fastened the latch, then turned to face her grandmother, clasping and unclasping her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that I’m in any hurry—I mean, I know you’re going to leave the quilts in your will—”
    “Oh, my dear girl, that’s not it at all.” Grandma held out an arm to Miranda, who gratefully hurried forward to accept one of her brisk hugs. “I meant that it’s unkind to tease Judy so, after all she’s done to try to motivate the rest of you girls.”
    Susan shot Judy a look of utter bewilderment. “But Miranda wasn’t teasing. Judy’s the best quilter of all of us.”
    “I know I’m not good enough to finish your mother’s quilt yet,” said Judy, “but I’m working hard to improve, and I know I could be good enough someday.”
    “Oh, Judy.” Grandma sank back in her chair, shaking her head in dismay. “Surely you understand that my mother’s quilt has to go to one of my real granddaughters, so it can stay in the family.”
    The room went abruptly silent. From elsewhere in the house came the sound of distant laughter and the squall of a cranky baby.
    Judy’s breath constricted. Somehow she managed to push herself to her feet and leave the room.
    She couldn’t go downstairs and face the questions her unexpected appearance alone would prompt, so she flung herself on the bed in her father’s old room and stared up at the ceiling. She took deep, slow breaths and blinked away tears the moment they threatened to form. After a few minutes, she heard her cousins descending the stairs and Grandma’s slower tread following after. She waited another five minutes before sitting up and smoothing the wrinkles in her new Easter skirt.
    Determined to avoid the other granddaughters, Judy went outside to the back porch where the younger children played, but Susan sought her out. “She has a mean streak,” Susan said, her blue eyes narrowed in anger. “I don’t want her stupid quilt anymore. None of us do.”
    “Don’t. You’re making it worse.”
    Susan held out her arms and Judy let herself