––––––––
By mid-April, Jenny had just finished the first quilt she had agreed to make for Ken Carey. After writing a letter to him, she mailed it to him and got started on the second quilt, even though she had misgivings about continuing to work with him. I agreed to make these quilts and I wrote up the contract. I will finish this second quilt and, with God’s help, come to a decision about whether I’m supposed to continue working with him.
She thought back several weeks to the time when Ken had begun driving to Peace Landing once a week to “check” on the progress of the quilt. Her mamm’s friends, the ministers, bishop, and deacon of the community church had showed up at her parents’ house to intervene and provide a buffer between her and Ken. Since that time, he had limited his contact to occasional letters, asking for an update on her progress, which Jenny had provided. A few days later, she received a response in the mail. Ken planned to be in Peace Landing the next Friday to pick the quilt up and pay her for her work.
As promised, Ken drove up to the house at noon. Smiling effusively, he shook Jennie’s and her parents’ hands.
“I can’t wait to see that quilt! I bet it looks beautiful, from what I’ve seen of your other work, Miss King,” said Ken.
Jenny gave Ken a small smile and said, “I hope you’ll like my work. I have also started on the second quilt. If you’ll come this way, I have it spread out for your inspection.” As she passed the kitchen, she sent up a quick prayer of gratitude that Jacob had asked to be present when Ken came to the house. He was waiting in the quilting room, and as Ken’s gaze fell on him, he returned the older man’s glare.
“Mr. Carey, here is the quilt. I think you’ll find it to your liking,” Jenny said as she gestured toward the colorful quilt, which had been spread over two tall frames.
Ken walked right up to the quilt and inspected the handiwork closely. He looked at the seams, stitching and the quilting design that Rebecca had painstakingly stitched on the top of the quilt. He lifted one corner of the quilt and looked at the backing, ensuring that its color complemented the colors Jenny had chosen for the piecework side.
“Hmmm, yes. Very well done. And it will sell for a very good price – I have several customers who would pay top dollar for a genuine Amish quilt. Here is your payment,” said Ken, handing Jenny a long, sealed envelope. Reaching up, he unhooked the quilt from the tops of the frames and folded it as he left the room.
Jacob moved forward from the corner of the quilting room.
“Mr. Carey, if you would, please wait a few minutes. Jenny, check to see how much you’ve been paid, please.”
She ripped the envelope open, finding a stack of bills. Removing them, she counted.
“Mr. Carey, this is only $750. We had agreed upon $2,000. This is short by . . . $1,250.”
“Mr. Carey, do you care to explain why you underpaid Jenny? She worked very hard on that quilt,” said Jacob calmly. He knew that his daed, as well as Jenny’s, were standing just outside the front door. Rebecca King stood right behind Jenny’s shoulder, looking quizzically at Ken.
Ken, not knowing that Jenny had reinforcements standing outside, attempted to leave with the quilt. He stopped only when Jacob took a long sideways step and blocked the exit to the living room.
“Well, she forfeited the rest of the payment when she refused to finish my quilt by the earlier date I had requested! She knew she was forfeiting payment.”
“Jenny, do you have your copy of the contract? I’d like to read it again,” Jacob said.
Jenny pulled the handwritten contract from a binder sitting on a shelf, handing it to Jacob.
Jacob quickly read through the contract.
“Mr. Carey, nowhere in this contract does it say that she forfeits payment for not delivering her work to you at an earlier date. As I recall, you sent her a letter and asked her to rush her work so you could feature it at a sale you had planned. She told you she couldn’t do that without sacrificing quality. You agreed to that, in front of me, and in front of Jenny’s daed. Remember?”
By now, the two fathers had come into the quilting room. They had been alerted to a possible problem because of how long it was taking for Ken to leave. They both crossed their arms over their muscular chests as they waited for Ken’s response. Looking at him, they waited patiently.
Ken looked from one implacable face to the others. Sighing, he knew he’d been outsmarted.
“Okay, I’ll pay the remainder in the kitchen,” he growled.
John King walked to the front door while Jacob and his daed flanked Ken on his way to the kitchen. Setting the quilt down on the counter, he pulled his wallet out of his rear pocket and counted out another $1,250, slapping it on the kitchen counter.
Jenny scooped the pile of bills up, handed them to her mother and looked back at Ken.
“Mr. Carey, I can’t continue to do work for you if you’re going to pressure me to do sloppy work or if you’re going to shortchange me on the agreed-upon payment. I won’t be finishing that second quilt,” she said firmly.
Ken realized that he had outsmarted even himself in trying to cheat Jenny. He frowned deeply only because he knew he’d been caught at his attempts at manipulation, not because he was sorry for trying to do so. He also realized he’d encountered a very strong young woman who wasn’t afraid to stick to her convictions, even if it meant losing a source of considerable income. He sighed and looked at Jenny.
“Miss King, I am very sorry. I underestimated you and your ability to stick to your convictions. You’re a very strong young woman. I’d like you to reconsider your decision – if you’ll continue to make that second quilt, I’ll respect the time frame you gave me, and I’ll pay you the full amount owed for that quilt when it’s done,” he said. Clearly, he thought his mollifying words would induce Jenny to change her mind right away, so he was surprised again when she shook her head.
“Mr. Carey, I really don’t want to make any more quilts for you. You tried to rush me, and when that didn’t work, you started coming here every week to, I don’t know, rush me along. It took the community to get you to back off. Then, today, you tried to underpay me by more than half of the amount we’d agreed upon – in writing – for this quilt. Right now, I’d just as soon sell quilts to the Englishers who come through, touring Amish country. I will think about your request – but I need time to think and pray about it. When I come to a decision, I’ll send a letter to you – and no amount of coming here and pressuring me will get me to change my mind!” She pointed a finger at him as she said the last part.
Ken was shaken by her refusal to give in to the easy money he offered her. Looking at Jacob, Rebecca, John King and Mr. Lapp, he knew he could do nothing more than wait for her decision.
“Miss King, I apologize again. Clearly, I don’t understand how you operate – I’m used to running things my way, and it appears that didn’t work here . . .”
“I will give your request more thought, Mr. Carey. I don’t have a decision for you now, but, at this point, I don’t want to proceed. I’ll send my decision in a letter. I may not have spent time in the city, but I know how to treat people honestly.”
Jenny’s parents and Mr. Lapp gestured to the front door, indicating to Ken that he should leave. Gathering up his quilt, he followed them outside, feeling defeated by the goodness they demonstrated. Back in his shop in Philadelphia, he called his business partner, Mara Williams.
“She says she doesn’t want to make that second quilt for me. Come to the store, Mara. She does beautiful work,” Ken said.
“Oh, Ken, don’t tell me! You did it again – you attempted to ride roughshod over a Plain woman and you were set back in your attempt, just by their goodness, weren’t you?”
Ken attempted a laugh. “Yeah. It would seem so . . .”
Mara released a long sigh. “I’m on my way. Give me about forty-five minutes.”
Less than one hour later, Mara swept into the store. Dressed in simple designer clothing, her gleaming white hair was simply arranged. Her virtually unlined face expressed love of life and youth. Swinging her handbag off her shoulder, she gestured to Ken that they should talk behind closed doors.
Ken gulped, knowing he was in for one of Mara’s patented lectures. Telling the store’s manager to push the sales items, he disappeared to the back of the store with Mara.
“Ken. You know I spent a significant amount of time living with the Amish. It’s a culture shock, yes. No electrical appliances, the Plain clothing, their reliance on God, the language differences – and their moral code all take getting used to. But, look at what you’re selling! Why would you try to cheat the very people who make it possible for you to even have this store? Talk about biting the hand that feeds you! You ungrateful wretch! And I mean that.
“I found the Amish to be a smart, friendly, ethical and direct people. When they say they’re going to do something, they do it. When they say they can’t do something, there’s usually a very sound reason for that. You tried to get Jenny King to rush that quilt, and you can’t rush that kind of quality. You’d have gotten a cheap, falling-apart piece of dreck. Knowing you, when she refused, you got angry and decided to ‘show her’ who’s boss, and that backfired miserably. I am telling you this now, and for your own good: If you attempt to cheat Miss King – or any other Amish craftsperson with whom you have a contract – I will withdraw every single last penny of financial support for your business. Now, I’m going to do damage control. For the store not you. I’m very angry with you. Give me her address so I can go visit her. Oh, and know this: She has me on her side.”
Ken knew when he’d been beat. He raised his hands and let them fall against his beefy thighs, then gave Mara the address. After she left, he stared, as if without sight, at the walls of the well-appointed office. Wandering over to the table where he’d dropped the folded King quilt, he ran one hand over the thick, quilted fabric, admiring the use of colors and patterns that Jenny had incorporated in her design. In the back of his mind, he knew the quilt would draw appreciative attention, and that it would sell quickly. Well, I screwed up royal. All I can do now is wait.
Mara Williams, knowing the rest of her day was free, decided to drive to Peace Landing that afternoon. She called her housemate, telling her, “I have a trip to make to Lancaster County. Damage control. I should be back by dinner time.”
In Peace Landing, Mara asked for directions to the King home. Arriving at the neat, well-kept home, she knocked at the front door. She smiled at the older woman who answered.
“Good afternoon. I realize you don’t know me. My name is Mara Williams and I am Ken Carey’s business partner. He told me what he did and I would like to apologize to Jenny King, if she’s available.”
“She is here, Mrs. Williams. Please, come in,” said Rebecca.
“Oh, that’s ‘Ms.’ Williams. I’m single,” said Mara.
“Oh! My apologies!”
“None needed, Mrs. King. I just never met the right man.”
“I see. Jenny’s in here – would you mind if I listen to your discussion with her? She’s very . . . hurt . . . by what Mr. Carey tried to do.”
“Actually, I would appreciate having your presence. Jenny – Miss King – needs your support.”
“Denki. Jenny, you have a visitor – Mara Williams. She’s Mr. Carey’s partner, and she says she doesn’t appreciate what he tried to do.”
“Mrs. Williams. I have to tell you that I don’t know what my decision will be. Mr. Carey’s lack of honesty leaves me disillusioned.”
“Miss King – may I call you Jenny?”
At Jenny’s nod, she continued. “I spent some time living among the Amish in another community several years back. It was a very educational period for me. I got to know, not only the clothing and the refusal to rely on technology, but the reasoning behind that decision. The Amish are a very proud and honest people, and when someone – like Ken – tries to cheat them, that’s a clash of cultures and a look into the worst part of the Englisher culture and mentality.”
At Mara’s use of an Amish term, Jenny’s eyes widened.
“Ya, when he tried to rush me, then cheat me, I felt hurt. I can’t work with someone like that. I told him I would reconsider and let him know my decision, but . . .”
At this point, John King and Jacob, alerted by the presence of a strange car parked outside, came into the house. They stood quietly just inside the quilting room door, listening as Mara and Jenny talked.
“Jenny, I let Ken have it. What he did was wrong on all levels. First, you were dealing with him, expecting that he’d respect your decisions. When he didn’t, you relied on your faith and the Ordnung to guide you. Again, he violated your trust. Jenny, I don’t blame you, not one bit. I have nothing but respect for your reliance on God, your lifestyle and your talent. Oh, my God! That quilt is beautiful! If you decide you can’t work any longer with Ken, I wouldn’t blame you – he tried to abuse your decency and trust, but, please know this: You have a gift from God, and it shouldn’t be hidden. Take your time making your decision. Oh, I nearly forgot – I told Ken that, if you decided to make that second quilt and he tried to cheat you again, I’d withdraw all of my financial support for his store. I’m very serious on that. He’s not going to cheat you or any other Amish artisans with whom he deals. I hope this will make it easier for you to come to a decision – I’m giving you my address and phone number. If you should decide to make that second quilt and if Ken tries to cheat you again, call me or write to me. He knows what the consequences will be,” said Mara ominously.
Jenny smiled. “Thank you. You do understand, I can feel that. I will make my decision soon. Denki for your phone number and address,” she said, holding up the business card.
“Jenny, I just don’t like to see anyone being cheated. Ken understands this now. I’m serious – if he tries something again, you let me know right away.”
“Ya. I will,” promised Jenny. “Please, let me introduce you to my daed and to my beau, Jacob Lapp.”
After Mara left, she stayed in the quilting room, turning the business card over and over as she thought. Jacob sat next to her with a smile of relief on his face.
“You have someone on your side in the city. I like that,” said Jacob.
“Ya. It will make my decision easier to make.”
“Take your time. Make the decision that’s right for you,” said Jacob.