Free The Wedding Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini

mean I don’t admire beautiful quilts,” said Caroline, looking away. “And wish that I had one.”
    Astonished, Sarah sat down on the bed beside her. “Sweetheart, you have dozens of beautiful quilts. You’ve saved every one ever made for you, from the pink-and-white Sawtooth Star Grandma Carol sewed before you were born to your graduation quilt.” Sarah had lovingly sewn it herself, using the Commencement block and the green-and-white colors of Dartmouth.
    â€œI know, and I love them all.” Caroline sat up with a sigh, crossed her legs, and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I mean I wish I had a wedding quilt, one I made myself. It seems ridiculous that Leo marries the daughter of the famous Sarah McClure, Elm Creek Quilter, and he won’t even have a wedding quilt to commemorate the occasion.”
    Sarah was tempted to tell her about the Memory Album quilt, but she couldn’t bear to spoil the surprise. “Leo doesn’t need a quilt to commemorate the occasion. He’s getting the world’s most wonderful bride.”
    Caroline laughed in spite of herself. “And that’s your completely unbiased opinion.”
    â€œExactly.” Sarah sighed, torn. The moment she had longingly awaited for twenty-five years had come at last: Her daughter wished she were a quilter. But as extraordinarily talented and capable as Caroline was, no crash course Sarah could offer would enable her to whip up a stunning wedding quilt in five days, not when they had so many other tasks to complete before the ceremony. “You could make a quilt to commemorate your first anniversary instead,” she said. “That’s what I did.”
    â€œOnly because you learned to quilt after you got married. If you had been a quilter all along, you would have made a wedding quilt.”
    Sarah almost certainly would have. “I don’t think this is something you need to worry about right now,” she said, stroking Caroline’s blond curls away from her face and kissing her forehead. “If you want a refresher course in quilting, I’d be very happy to teach you, but it’ll have to wait until you return from your honeymoon. In the meantime, don’t let it trouble you. Agreed?”
    Caroline smiled. “Agreed.”

    They went down to the kitchen for supper, where it seemed that every one of the manor’s year-round residents had gathered to welcome the bride and groom, summoned either by the sounds of their arrival or by the delicious aromas of cardamom and cumin wafting from Anna’s kitchen. The eight booths and the long wooden table in the center, a Bergstrom family heirloom, offered more than enough seats to accommodate everyone for the welcome-home supper: the four McClures, Carol, and Leo; the three Del Maso–Bernsteins; Maggie Flynn and her husband, Russell, McIntyre, both longtime faculty members; and Emily DiNardo, the youngest Elm Creek Quilter and eldest daughter of founding member Judy Nguyen DiNardo. Emily was the third second-generation teacher at Elm Creek Quilt Camp, a distinction in which both she and her mother, a professor of computer engineering at Penn, took great pride. The other two second-generation employees were James, of course, and Summer Sullivan, but Elm Creek Quilter Diane often argued that Gwen and Summer didn’t count since they had both been a part of Elm Creek Quilts since its inception, whereas “second-generation” implied the bestowing of a legacy from one original member to a descendant. Gwen thought Diane’s definition of “second-generation” was unnecessarily narrow, as suited her unnecessarily narrow mind—and, not surprisingly, the discussion had devolved from there. Second-generation or otherwise, Summer had been one of the quilt campers’ favorite teachers in the early years, and although she had resigned from Elm Creek Quilts even before the twins were born