Mally the Maker and the Queen in the Quilt Read online

  Mally the Maker and the Queen in the Quilt

  Mally the Maker, Volume 1

  Leah Day

  Published by Day Style Designs, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  MALLY THE MAKER AND THE QUEEN IN THE QUILT

  First edition. January 21, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Leah Day.

  ISBN: 978-0997901177

  Written by Leah Day.

  For my grandma, Mattie Bernice Harrison Gray and Ms. Bunny. I miss you both every day.

  Map of Quilst

  Chapter 1 - Don’t Want to Cry Anymore

  “Grandma, why do you make quilts?”

  Mally was sitting in her favorite sunny window seat watching Grandma stitch green patches of fabric together. With a thimble on her thumb and forefinger, her wrinkled hands moved fluidly, shifting the fabric over, inserting the needle, then sliding it through to pull the thread straight.

  “I suppose I just like it, Mally May. There’s something comforting about stitching things together. Sometimes I like playing with the bright fabrics.” She winked as she picked up a piece of hot pink material.

  “And sometimes I like seeing the pieces come together perfectly.” She smoothed out the patchwork on the table and touched the seams where the hexagons came together. “I guess it just makes me feel good.”

  Mally stretched out her hand to touch the quilt, and stretched and stretched, but her fingertips never reached the soft fabrics. Her fist collided with the wall next to her bed and she sat up with a shriek.

  Dream. It was only a dream, Mally thought, holding back tears. Grandma’s gone. Distantly she heard the rumble of thunder. Happy, sunny days stitching in Grandma’s sewing room were a thing of the past.

  She searched around the bed for her favorite doll and found her nearly falling off the edge of the mattress. She scooped Ms. Bunny close and laid back down, pulling the quilt up to her chin. The hexagon quilt she’d just dreamed of was spread over her like a comforting hug. She stroked the fabrics where the seams came together as the room around her blurred.

  I don’t want to cry anymore, Mally thought, even as her mouth filled with saliva and her nose began to run. She had been crying for months and it hadn’t done any good.

  Ms. Bunny filled the empty space in her arms and Mally imagined what she would say if she could speak. “It’s okay, dear. I’m here. I love you. You’re going to be fine.” She wiped her eyes with one of Ms. Bunny’s soft ears and fell back to sleep to the sound of rain pounding on the roof.

  * * * * *

  BLEEP. BLEEP. BLEEP.

  Mally swung out her hand to hit the alarm. She missed, and it continued to blare in her ear. She gave it another whack and missed again.

  “Mally! Are you up yet? Come on, kid, it’s an early morning!” Dad yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

  She opened her eyes blearily. Her lashes were stuck together with the tears that had dried into crystals around her eyes. She rubbed furiously and finally got her eyes unglued and hit her alarm to shut off the beeping. Still half asleep, Mally rooted around in the sheets until her fingertips brushed a familiar shape. She pulled Ms. Bunny out of the tangled sheets and gave her a hug.

  Then she smoothed the doll’s pink dress out over her skinny legs and set her on the pillow with her paws crossed on her lap so she could see the room. The doll looked very prim and proper with three heart shaped buttons decorating the front of her calico dress and white lace stitched along the hem and sleeves. Mally smoothed her long ears down on either side of the doll’s chest so they framed her tiny body perfectly.

  “Have a great day, Ms. Bunny,” she said, sliding out of bed. She grabbed the clothes she’d laid out on the floor the night before and made for the bathroom across the hall.

  “Snooze you lose, baby.” Rose pushed her roughly out of the way and slammed the bathroom door in her face.

  “I get the bathroom first! You evil cow!” Mally shouted, pounding on the door. “Dad! Rose stole the bathroom!”

  “Mally, there is more than one bathroom in this house…”

  “But Rose–”

  “Downstairs bathroom, Mally! Get a move on!”

  Mally stomped down the stairs to the tiny half bath. She hated this dark bathroom. It smelled funny and spiders were often lurking in the corners. The door tended to stick and there was barely enough space to turn around. Once she’d been startled by a huge spider in the sink only to find she was trapped in the room with it.

  She flicked on the light and searched the corners carefully before pulling the door partially closed. She slipped into a t-shirt and sweater then squeezed into her jeans. The fabric fit tight around her waist and the hem came up high above her socks. She’d asked Dad about getting more pants when school started, but he had just sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. She hadn’t asked again.

  Mally washed her face and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her dark blonde hair was a tangled mess around her head. They didn’t keep a comb in this bathroom so she wet her fingertips and tried to smooth it down the best she could. Her hair fell to just below her chin, long enough to blow into her face, but too short to pull back into a ponytail. She could still see gritty tear crystals in her green eyes and washed her face again to remove them.

  I have to stop crying, Mally thought. I have to STOP. She took a deep breath and left the bathroom, dropping her pajamas in a pile on the stairs. She tried to wiggle her pants into a more comfortable position as she wandered into the kitchen.

  Dad was sitting at the table staring into his cup of coffee. His big hands circled around a white mug that said “World’s Best MOM” in teal letters. Mally didn’t think he’d noticed that he’d picked mama’s favorite mug. Well, it’s not like she’s going to complain about it, she thought sourly. I doubt she’ll even notice.

  “Morning,” Dad said, not looking up.

  “Good morning,” Mally answered. She pulled out a box of cereal and shook a mix of flakes and raisins into a bowl. She was pouring milk on top when Rose stormed into the kitchen.

  “Have you seen my pink bag?” she demanded.

  “No, I haven’t seen it,” Mally said, tensing for a fight.

  “Where is it? What have you done with it?” Rose grabbed Mally’s arm and squeezed hard. “I set it at the bottom of the stairs last night and now it’s gone. What did you do with it?”

  Mally opened her mouth to protest, but Dad beat her to it. “Rose, it’s on the couch. I moved it so you wouldn’t break your neck tripping on it this morning.”

  “Fine,” Rose muttered, releasing her grip. Mally set the milk back on the counter and turned to pull a spoon out of the drawer. Quick as a flash, Rose snatched a spoon out of the dish drainer and Mally’s bowl of cereal and begin wolfing it down.

  “Rose! That’s mine!”

  “Mine now,” Rose smirked. Milk dribbled down her wide chin into the bowl.

  “Give it back! Dad! Rose stole my cereal!”

  A breath of silence descended as Mally waited to see what Dad would do. He couldn’t let Rose get away with this yet again… It just wasn’t FAIR!

  But Dad just sat staring into his coffee cup, and Mally knew he wouldn’t do anything.

  She turned and poured another bowl of cereal, her hand shaking with rage. This is NOT how the morning would go if Mama still got up with them. Mama would have fixed things. Mama would have made it better.

  Mally sat down and glared at her sister across the table, daring
her to try something else. Rose had Mama’s dark hair and bright blue eyes, but she was built like Dad with big hands and a chunky body. Her chin wobbled as she ate, and more milk dribbled out of her mouth.

  Mally caught Rose’s eye and mouthed, “Cow.” With a small surge of satisfaction, she watched her sister’s face flush crimson. But her victory was short lived.

  “Baby,” Rose mouthed back and Mally jumped as intense pain shot through her shin. Rose had kicked her under the table. Her eyes filled with tears as her sister smirked, finishing off the rest of her cereal with a flourish.

  Rose was fourteen and apparently that was the magical age when you turn nasty and become a different person. They had once played dolls together and Mally could remember Rose reading to her when she was little. These days she just wished Rose would go away and leave her alone. Anything was better than being around her.

  They finished breakfast in silence, broken only by the sound of water running in the next room. Mama is up at least. Maybe she will come in and eat breakfast with us, Mally thought. But as the minutes ticked by it was clear she had just gone back to bed.

  “Well, let’s get going, girls.” Dad rubbed his hand over his eyes and looked like he could use another cup of coffee. Mally slurped the milk from the bottom of the bowl as she walked to the sink, then grabbed her coat and blue bookbag from the bench near the door. Rose pushed past, nearly smacking Mally in the face as she slung a pink duffle, bookbag, and purse over her shoulder.

  “Shotgun!” she yelled, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.

  Mally had the strongest urge to grab her hair and yank her sister backward. Just a fast, powerful tug to trip her and get her back for everything this morning. She resisted the urge as she followed her sister out to the truck. Rose climbed in the front and Mally squeezed into the tiny extended cab in the back, wedging her bookbag between her knees.

  The familiar scent of wood shavings and sawdust filled her nose, smells Dad brought with him everywhere. He opened the opposite door and set a wooden toolbox on the seat next to her and three binders on top. Mally saw a beautiful picture of a kitchen with dark cabinets and stone countertops on the front cover. It must be a new job prospect today if Dad was bringing his portfolio.

  Her assumption was confirmed when Dad climbed into the front seat and said, “Don’t forget you’re walking to Grandma’s house after school. Rose, please wait for your sister so you can walk together.” He started the truck and began to back out of the driveway.

  “Dad, no! I don’t want to be seen walking with her! She’s such a baby – all my friends make fun of her. I can’t be seen with her in public.”

  “I am not!” Mally shouted back.

  “Are too! You cry all the time!” Rose turned in her seat to glare at Mally. “Just like a baby. I bet you’re about to cry right now.”

  As if on cue, Mally’s eyes filled with tears. The world went blurry and she felt a familiar pressure in her chest and pain in her throat as she tried to hold it in.

  “Enough!” Dad roared, slamming on the brakes. “Rose, you’re out of line. Hand me your bag.”

  “What?”

  “Your purse thing. Whatever you keep your phone in. No electronics for a week.”

  “But Dad! I have an assignment and this thing with Sheila–”

  “Bag. NOW.” Dad rarely got angry enough to raise his voice, but when he did, it could make windows rattle. Mally felt a nice jolt of pleasure in her stomach at seeing her sister’s face crumple for once. She handed over her purse. Dad opened the truck door and threw it on the edge of the driveway.

  “Dad! That’s outside! What if it gets rained on? I have makeup in there!”

  Dad turned to Rose and looked at her for a long moment.

  “You should think about the things you value and how you treat them, Rose. When you treat the people around you terrible, you end up looking terrible. I think a few days without makeup or a phone will do you good.”

  He threw the truck into reverse and they drove the rest of the way to school in silence. Mally felt a bit awestruck and tried not to smile at the thought of Rose’s precious phone getting wet, or even better, run over by the mailman.

  They pulled up at the high school and Rose snatched her bookbag and pink duffle and jumped out of the truck, slamming the door as hard as she could. She shot Mally a look of pure hatred before stalking off to find her friends.

  Mally climbed up between the seats and reached back to pull her bookbag into her lap. Staring out the window at the rain-soaked ground, Mally wished for a second she and Dad could just drive away. Leave Mama to sleep the day away and Rose to be horrible to someone else. Leave it all behind.

  They drove down to the elementary school in silence. Dad surprised Mally by pulling into a space in the parking lot rather than the carpool line with the other parents. He put the truck in park but continued looking out the window, the green eyes they both shared staring at the kids lining up.

  “Your sister shouldn’t treat you like that,” he said gently. “But she does have a point.”

  “What?” Mally couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “If you stood up for yourself, it would be harder for her. She’s just looking for buttons to push and you’re making it really easy for her.”

  Mally didn’t say anything as Dad’s words sunk in. He thought she was a baby too. And here Mally had resisted fighting back because she didn’t want to make him look any more sad or tired than he already did.

  That’s not FAIR, she thought. I’m trying to be GOOD. I’m trying to make things easy for you. Can’t you see that?

  “Just work on the crying thing, baby girl,” Dad said softly. “We’re all sad, but we can’t keep crying about every little thing.”

  Mally just wanted this conversation to be over. She couldn’t believe Dad was actually agreeing with Rose. The insult and injustice of all of it made her eyes brim with tears yet again. She let her hair swing over her face as she slid out of the big truck.

  “Just try your best, Mally.”

  “Sure, Dad.” Rushing now, she grabbed her bag and slammed the truck door. She turned and ran up to the school, hoping the cool air would dry her tears before she got to class. Mally joined several kids walking inside the school and inhaled the familiar smell of paper, books, and floor cleaner. She pulled her backpack straps a bit tighter and tried to relax as she walked toward her classroom.

  Outside the fourth grade hall she stopped by the bathroom and took a second to splash water on her face. Mally stared into the mirror and saw her cheeks still looked too pink and her eyes too glossy, but it was better than usual. At least her face didn’t look like a splotchy red tomato today.

  She sighed and walked the last few steps to Mrs. Smith’s class. Walking inside was always a bit overwhelming. Her teacher loved color and each wall was decorated top to bottom with colorful drawings, paintings, and even some fabric panels with inspirational words Mrs. Smith had painted herself.

  It was mega cheerful, but instead of lifting her spirits, the happy decorations always made her feel like a freak. She stared at a painting of a bright sunshine with the words “Don’t Worry! Be Happy!” painted in bright blue. Was it really that easy for everyone else? Could some people just decide not to worry and happy all the time? She wandered over to her desk and began pulling out her notebooks and pencil case.

  “Oh Rhet, Rhet! Where shall I go? What shall I do?” Her best friend Audrey threw herself dramatically into a nearby seat, clutching her hands over her heart.

  “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” Mally replied, mimicking the deep voice of Rhet Butler from Gone with the Wind. They had watched the movie during a sleepover and that famous scene had become a standing joke between them.

  Audrey laughed. “How you doing, Mally Bally?”

  “All right.” Mally shrugged as she pulle
d out her math book.

  “I know the perfect thing to cheer you up! My mom is taking me to Renaissance Faire on Saturday and she bought an extra ticket for you.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “Of course, silly! I’d love for you to come. I can’t wait to see the gypsies dance.” Audrey began dancing around her desk, swinging her hips in a jerky imitation.

  Mally’s heart constricted as she realized this time last year her mom had put together the exact same trip. They’d had a great day eating roasted turkey legs and screaming their heads off at the joust. Mama had been so happy too.

  While Mally and Audrey ran from vendor to vendor, she’d gotten her long brown hair braided into a complicated knot and her face painted with green vines. By the end of the day, Mama looked like a fairy queen, even in her black wool coat and jeans. Audrey had declared that next time they would all dress up and be princesses for a day and Mama had promised to help.

  “I’ll ask Dad if I can go,” she said as Mrs. Smith breezed into the room. Today she was wearing white tights with a neon orange top and a yellow scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. She looked like a walking candy corn and Mally couldn’t help smiling at the sight.

  The morning passed with normal routine and slowly Mally relaxed. They always started the day with a bit of math because Mrs. Smith believed numbers were “Fundamental to life!” They were working on adding and subtracting fractions which she found surprisingly easy.

  She remembered talking through fractions with Grandma last winter and she had helped Mally understand by sewing a quilt block. Mally could still remember adding ¼ inch to all sides of the fabric pieces so they could be sewn together and leave just the right shape behind.

  She’d been a bit confused when the block finished ½ inch bigger than needed for the quilt, but as Grandma explained – ¼ inch added to all sides meant the block itself would end up ½ inch bigger. That way it could be pieced to other blocks without getting the edges lopped off.