He Priced Me At A Penny So I Married Another Chapter 40
Because of age, the thread my mother had left behind was paler than the one I had sewn on later.
After washing my hands, I sat at the edge of the bed and ran my fingers over the seam.
Everett leaned in the doorway.
“Did anybody recognize you today?”
“They did.”
“Were you scared?”
“A little, when I first took the megaphone.”
He came over and sat beside me.
“If you don’t want to go next time, then don’t.”
I looked at him.
“If I want to go next time, I still will.”
Everett smiled.
“Okay. Then I’ll be in charge of airing out the quilts.”
The last of the sunlight fell across the quilt.
I remembered what my mother had said: once I took them to my new home, I would know at a glance which one was mine.
She never got to see this home.
But the stitches she left behind are still here. The stitches Carol taught me are here, too.
The tear never vanished. I simply mended it with my own hands, and no one will ever be able to rip it open whenever they please again.
I lifted the quilt and scooted farther in.
Everett didn’t lie down right away.
“Did you wipe your feet?”
I copied the way my mother used to do it, tugging the edge of the quilt at him to shoo him off.
Laughing, he went to the bathroom, and when he came back, he deliberately let me inspect the bottoms of his socks.
Only then did I make room.
He lay down beside me and reached over to switch off the lamp.
In the dark, I found the name stitched into the corner of the quilt.
This time, the place I had was not something someone had grudgingly granted me, and no one would ever put a price on it again.
It was mine.