Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As Desired

Harriet knew she and Harold would never share a passion like she'd had with Steve; but then again, he would never be able to hurt her as deeply.

She shook her head. What was she thinking? She'd been on one date with the guy.

"Are you okay, honey?” Mavis asked and glared at Connie. “You want some more tea, or another cookie?"

"I'm fine,” Harriet said stiffly.

An awkward silence fell over the group. The women returned to their work, heads down, focused on the piles they were sorting. Harriet went upstairs to retrieve another box, and when she returned, she had the distinct impression a discussion had taken place in her absence.

"Anyone feel like pizza?” Mavis asked.

DeAnn sat back and looked at the piles on the table. “I hate to stop now. I feel like we're just getting rolling,” she said.

"I could go down to Mama Theresa's and pick up pizza for us to eat here,” Harriet volunteered.

"Are you sure you don't mind?” Jenny said.

"Not at all. I'll just bring another box down from the workroom first so you won't run out while I'm gone."

"That sounds like a plan,” Mavis said. “I'll call in our order while you're doing that."

Harriet got up, went down the dark hallway and climbed the steep stairs one more time. She started toward Avanell's workroom but found herself drawn to the tower room. She looked around, as if someone might have sneaked up behind her, then entered the round room.

With one more glance over her shoulder, she went to the desk and picked up the first stack of papers. She quickly ruffled through them. They seemed to be some sort of monthly balance sheet. She scanned the categories.

There seemed to be the usual ones you might expect to be associated with running a vitamin business. Raw materials purchases, labor expenses, utility costs, transportation payments were in one column, and payments for deliveries received in the other.

What didn't make sense was a series of write-offs that were taken each month. One month it was damaged goods, the next it was depreciated equipment. Every month had a write-off, and they were all five- or six-figure amounts. With those added to the mix, The Vitamin Factory was losing money at an alarming rate. No wonder Avanell had seemed troubled.

Harriet quickly scanned the other stack of papers. They were receipts for goods shipped. Without knowing more about the business, she couldn't tell if they were significant or not.

She set the papers back on the desk and tried to remember if they had been neatly aligned or not. She heard a noise and quickly arranged each stack then went into Avanell's workroom to get another box. She had just started for the stairs with a large plastic tub in her arms when her load was suddenly lightened.

"I'll get it,” Aiden said. “Mavis thought you might be lost, so I came to check."

"Very funny,” she retorted, trying to think of a reason she would have taken so long. “I was in the bathroom."

She hoped he hadn't been close enough to notice the lack of plumbing noises.

"Jenny said you were going to pick up pizza for the group. I didn't see your car out front. Were you going to walk?"

"I rode with Mavis and assumed I could take her car."

"That boat? Do you have your captain's license?"

She couldn't help smiling.

"How about I drive you?” he offered. “I need to stop by the clinic and pick up my schedule anyway. It'll only take a minute, and it's on the way."

He disappeared down a back set of stairs that must have been the servants’ route to the first floor. Harriet stopped in the upstairs parlor to collect her purse and get last-minute instructions from Jenny. She came down the main staircase but found the entry hall empty. A quick glance through the etched glass insert in the front door verified that Aiden hadn't gone out without her. His rental car was still in the driveway.

She paced the length of the foyer. The downstairs parlor was empty. Several doors opened off the entry on the opposite wall. The second one she passed was slightly ajar. She could hear raised voices coming from an interior room.

"You put Mom's house on the market without even telling me?” Aiden said. “She's not even buried yet, and you've scheduled an estate sale? What about Marcel? Does he know about this?"

She didn't hear the reply, but from what he said next, it sounded like Marcel did know.

"Were either of you going to tell me? Or was I just going to drive up one day and find my stuff gone and someone else living here?"

"Look, Aiden, you haven't been here. Don't play the injured party with me. You've been half a world away playing Dr. Dolittle while the business has been crumbling out from under us. Mom was going to have to sell the house anyway. And frankly, we need the estate sale to pay for the funeral. They want cash, and Mom doesn't have any. Uncle Bertie is barely keeping the business going while he looks for a qualified buyer. He can't help-he already sold his house. He and Sheryl are living in a two-bedroom apartment over Green's Tavern out on Shore Road."

"How could this happen?” Aiden demanded. “When I left we were getting quarterly payments that were substantial."

"Things change, little bro. That was three years ago. Have you looked at your statements lately? We haven't gotten anything in a year and a half. While you were off chasing Simba through the brush, Marcel was loaning Mom money so she could meet the payroll."

"What about the insurance money from Dad? And I know Mom had insurance. What about the money from Grandma Binoche?"

"Are you thick? It's gone,” Michelle said, her voice rising in pitch. “All of it-spent, borrowed against, gone."

"Everything?” Aiden said in a tone of disbelief.

"Not Grandma Binoche's money, but that didn't do Mom any good, because Grandma set it up so Mom couldn't touch it, so it doesn't matter. If you ask me, it's a good thing Mom died when she did."

"Shut up,” Aiden shouted. “Just shut up."

"Don't be naive. After Daddy died, Mom lived for The Vitamin Factory. It was failing, and she couldn't bear to go down with the ship."

"You're not trying to tell me she shot herself in the back of the head, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm just telling you how things are."

Harriet heard footsteps. She returned to the front door and was gazing out at the driveway when Aiden stormed into the entryway.

"Come on,” he said, and went out without waiting for her.

He climbed into a black Jeep Cherokee. Harriet got into the passenger seat, and he accelerated down the steep driveway as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Is everything okay? I mean, I know it isn't okay, but is there anything I can do?” Her words sounded false in her ears. She knew nothing she could say or do would change the pain he was feeling.

He pierced her with an icy glance but said nothing. They were off the hill and driving down Main Street before he spoke.

"I can't believe Mom's business could go into such a steep decline in just three years. Has the economy been that bad while I've been gone?"

"Things were slow when the dot-com bubble burst, but that's been more than three years ago. It's hard to imagine that would impact the vitamin business. I don't know what to tell you. Can you look at the company books?"

"Technically, I suppose I could-when my dad died he left us each a share of the company. His will stated we didn't get to participate in the management unless Mom became disabled or invited us to participate. Uncle Bertie has the other share of the company, though."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, let's just say he and I aren't on the best of terms."

"You could do some research on the internet. I assume The Vitamin Factory was privately held, but you might be able to find a public competitor and get an idea of how the industry has been over the last few years."