Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As Desired

"It's a goose egg, Connie,” Mavis interjected. “Luckily, she inherited her aunt's hard head. She's going to stay with me for a few days, just to be sure."

"Good,” Connie said. “You listen to Mavis and do what she says."

"I plan on it.” Harriet looked around for something to drink so she could take a pain pill. All this hugging and moving was making her head hurt again.

She noticed Carla in the small classroom folding fat quarters she had just cut.

"I'm going to get a drink of water,” she said and headed for the breakroom. She got her water then stopped in the training room.

"Carla,” she said, “can I talk to you a minute?"

Carla got a deer-in-the-headlights look but nodded assent.

"Do you know where Misty is? I'd really like to talk to her. I went to her house and someone knocked me out. I think she's in trouble, and I'd like to help her."

Carla looked down. “She came to my house yesterday,” she said to the floor. “She wasn't doing too good."

"In what way?"

"She really needs her medicine, and she don't have any. I told her to go to the free clinic for now and that I could help her on payday. I couldn't tell if she was going to do it or not."

"Tell her I have some fabric for her baby quilt and tell her I will get her some medicine."

"I don't know where she is. She's hearing voices. She said a man is coming to get her, and then she took off. I don't know if she'll be back or not."

"Listen, can you call me if she shows up again? I'm serious-I'll get her medicine for her. I'll get her enough to last until she gets a new job."

Carla looked up at her with clear blue eyes. “I'll try,” she said.

Harriet returned to the group of women. DeAnn was relating a bit of gossip about a woman named Barbara whom Harriet had yet to meet when Lauren came in.

Robin put her arm around Lauren's shoulders. “I heard about your quilt. I'm so sorry. Can I do anything to help?"

Lauren glared at Harriet. “You can't, but she can,” she said and gestured toward her. “I stayed up all night and repaired my quilt. There isn't time for me to re-quilt it on my sewing machine, but it wouldn't take anytime at all on the long-arm."

"Fine,” Harriet said. “I'll do it. Right after the memorial service."

Mavis started to protest, but she silenced her with a glance.

"Where is my quilt?” Sarah Ness demanded as she entered the store.

"My day is complete,” Harriet muttered to Mavis.

"I went to your place of business and waited and waited and you never showed up,” Sarah yelled.

Harriet's head began to pound in earnest. “Could you please lower your voice?” she asked. “Your quilt is done. I just need to take it off the machine frame."

"You leave her alone,” Mavis scolded. “She hit her head and had to spend the night in the hospital, that's why she wasn't there for your appointment."

"I can't believe there weren't two minutes to call me,” Sarah complained. “You probably waited forever in the waiting room."

Mavis glared at her. Sarah finally noticed and stopped talking. She stuck her bottom lip out. Mavis sighed. Her third son had raised pouting to an art-form; Sarah was a rank amateur.

Sarah looked at Mavis as she spoke to Harriet.

"I'm coming over as soon as this memorial thing is over. Have my quilt ready.” She turned her back and flounced off to the breakroom.

"Don't you worry about her, honey.” Mavis rubbed Harriet's arm. “Okay, everyone,” she said to the group. “Who's driving, and who needs a ride?"

The women quickly divided themselves among three cars and drove toward the strait to the Unitarian Church. The gravel parking lot was half-full when they pulled up to the low, glass-fronted building. Harriet hoped the chapel inside was more inviting than the cold exterior and was not disappointed.

They entered an open reception area. Wooden racks held colorful pamphlets with titles like “Why Should I Try Your Church,” “Securing the Future” and “The Front Steps.” A somber-looking woman with long grey hair pulled back and held with a silver clasp was handing out funeral programs in front of two ornately carved wooden doors. Mavis looked at her watch.

"We're a few minutes early,” Michelle said as a lanky blond man in a black suit came into the vestibule from a hallway that led off to the left. Mavis walked up to her and clasped her hand.

"I'm so sorry for your loss,” she said. “Jackson, I'm so sorry to see you again under such unhappy circumstances,” she added to the blond man.

Harriet assumed Jackson was Michelle's husband.

Bertrand de LaFontaine emerged from the same hallway, accompanied by a small, pale woman with red-rimmed eyes and two equally pale young women who had to be his daughters.

Mavis and DeAnn went to the family.

"I'm so sorry for you loss,” Mavis repeated, and took his hand in her two. “Our group won't be the same without our most prolific prizewinner."

"She loved making beautiful quilts. That and the business were her life,” Bertrand said.

"She loved her family, too,” DeAnn added.

"Did that show ever decide what they were going to do about Avey's quilt?” Bertrand asked. “If they aren't going to display it, we'd like to get it back. Some of the employees want to put up a memorial display in the building lobby. They asked for one of her quilts to be the backdrop. I thought since that show quilt was the last one she ever made, it would be the right choice, if we can get it back."

"Harriet and I just went to Tacoma to get it-"

"Uncle Bertie, the chaplain needs to speak to you,” Michelle interrupted.

Bertrand pulled his hand from Mavis's with a look of apology and followed Michelle. Lauren and Robin were deep in conversation with the program woman. Harriet looked around at the clusters of people and felt alone. The one family member she knew wasn't in evidence. Her head was pounding again.

She touched Mavis on the arm. “I'm going to go find the restroom."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just want to freshen up a little.” She turned away before Mavis could protest.

She peeked down the hallway the family had come out of and saw a small sign sticking out of the wall at the other end. It had to be a restroom. She walked slowly down the hall, trying not to jostle her head. The sign turned out to be for a library, but the hallway angled to the right, so she continued on. Finally, at the end of the second hallway, she found the women's room and went in.

Two large white baskets filled with lavender and pink silk flowers were to the right of the door. Just beyond was a large open closet with a variety of choir robes, aprons and worn-looking flannel shirts splattered with paint, all on wire hangers. A box marked CANDLES sat on the shelf above the closet pole. A vanity table with hairspray, deodorant, cotton balls, breath spray and hand lotion was to the left of the door.

She went through an interior door that led into the actual lavatory, dampened a paper towel with cool water and held it to her forehead. She went back out to the dressing room area and sat on the vanity chair. She rubbed lotion into her hands then shut her eyes, propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her lavender-scented palms. She took a few deep breaths and willed her head to stop hurting.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the room when she heard a noise in the hallway. She knew Mavis would worry if she didn't return, so she got up and headed back to the vestibule.

"Calm down,” she heard a male voice say from an open doorway. She flattened against the wall and inched closer to the source of the sound.

"You don't get it,” Michelle said, her words broken by sobs.

"So, tell me,” Aiden said. “I get that Mom was out of money. I don't understand it, but I get it. But you're a lawyer; your husband is an environmental scientist. You must make plenty of money between you."