Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As Desired

"It's simple, really. You see, it turns out that it doesn't matter how much money you make, it's all about how much you spend."

"So stop spending so much."

"Stop spending so much,” she mimicked in a snotty little-girl voice. “How am I supposed to do that? You tell me how to stop spending. Do I take the girls out of the only school they've ever known? Or do I let them come home alone after school and sit around and watch television all night? Or should I resign from the club, so we can all get fat and die of heart disease? Are you suggesting I can go to my job in one of the most prestigious law firms in Seattle in thrift store clothes? Take my clients to lunch in a used Toyota?” She started to sob again.

"Stop crying,” Aiden said. “I told you I'd take care of it. Just give me another week. The bank needs to process the paperwork. Then we'll both have all the money we could ever need."

Harriet stepped away from the wall and went back to the entry hall. She'd heard enough.

Harold had arrived while she was gone.

"Harriet,” he said when she came back into the foyer. “I'm sorry to be seeing you under such unfortunate circumstances."

"It's very sad,” she said. “I suppose we all expect to bury our parents someday, but I think we hope it will be when we and they are all very old and that our parents will have gone gently in the night."

"It has been quite a shock for the family,” Harold said. “Say, I spoke to James earlier. He said he's trying a new ‘Death by Chocolate’ dessert recipe and suggested we might come by and try it out. I'll need to make an appearance at the coffee the church ladies are hosting after the burial, but then maybe we could slip away for some dessert and coffee. If you think it's inappropriate, considering why we're here, I'll understand, and we can do it some other time."

"No, I think it's a fine idea. I just need to get a project from one of the other people. It was damaged at the quilt show, and I need to help with the repair."

"I'll wait to hear from you, then,” he said, and pantomimed tipping a hat. Then he turned to speak to Bertrand and his wife.

She looked around the room and located the Loose Threads.

"There you are,” Mavis said as she joined them. “Jenny just went to the ladies room to try to find you. It's about time to go in and get a seat."

The carved wooden pews were filling up. Lauren and DeAnn were holding a space for the group. Harriet filed in between Mavis and Jenny, who had returned, and sat down on the hard wooden seat.

The pews were adorned with clusters of cream-colored lilies and pale yellow roses. Large baskets of hothouse azaleas, hydrangeas and mixed bouquets of white chrysanthemums, baby's breath and green sword fern filled the area behind Avanell's closed casket. Every business and association in Foggy Point and beyond must have sent an offering.

An ornately carved oak table at the back of the chapel held a basket that was overflowing with condolence cards. A matching basket held envelopes and cash. A small sign noted that donations would go to Avanell's scholarship fund for deserving local students.

The chaplain came in, and a hush fell over the group. Sarah Ness rose and went to the front of the church. Harriet wasn't sure why she was surprised. Being annoying didn't preclude the possibility of having a beautiful voice.

Sarah sang a moving rendition of “Take Me Home to Jesus” and sat back down. The chaplain read several Psalms then introduced Marcel, who delivered a short eulogy. Sarah sang “Amazing Grace,” and it was over.

People were offered the option of filing by the closed casket and about half did. Marcel announced from the back of the room that everyone was invited to join the family in the cemetery behind the church for the graveside portion of the service.

A fine mist had been falling earlier but had ended sometime during the service. The funeral attendees exited the church into a pale sunlit afternoon. The cemetery was separated from the church by a copse of trees. Pea gravel on the path crunched under Harriet's feet as she walked with Mavis through the trees, up a small rise and into the grassy burial area.

A blue canopy with white chairs underneath had been erected at the far side of the lawn, a mound of earth covered with sheets of Astroturf just beyond the seating area. The first row of chairs surrounded a large rectangular hole in the ground. The family were already seating themselves when she and Mavis arrived.

"If it's okay with you, I think I'll stand at the back,” she said.

"I know this is hard for you,” Mavis said. “You do what you need to do."

Harriet stood behind the last row of chairs. Darcy came over and joined her.

"It's really sad, you know? My mom used to work at The Vitamin Factory when I was in middle school. Avanell had a deal where employee's kids could come to the factory and work on their homework in the breakroom. She hired teenagers to act as tutors. They got scholarship money, and we kept out of trouble. Avanell would buy healthy snacks for us, too. She was just a cool lady."

"Has there been any progress on her case?"

"Not really."

Before she could say more, Michelle left the front row and stormed down the short aisle.

"What are they waiting for?” she demanded of Darcy. She glared at Harriet and strode down the path toward the chapel.

"What is her deal?” Harriet asked. “I know I found her mother, but she gets ruder every time I see her. I'm sure she's upset about her mom, but it seems to be more than that where I'm concerned."

"According to Officer Nguyen, she claims Avanell stayed late at work to finish binding her quilt so she could get it to you for the show. If you believe the burglary theory, and Michelle does, then it follows that if Avanell hadn't been at work finishing her quilt she wouldn't have been there when the thieves arrived. She thinks her mom stayed at her office to finish it because she was almost done, and her office was closer to your place than her home was."

"She wasn't working on her quilt that night,” Harriet corrected. “Aiden already had her quilt. In fact, her quilt was at the dry cleaners Wednesday.” She related to Darcy how Aiden had used the quilt and the resulting repair and cleaning.

"That's really weird. Michelle obviously wasn't here, so she'd have no direct knowledge of what happened,” Darcy said. “I wonder why she thought Avanell was stitching."

"Her pincushion and some of the backing and binding scraps were in her office. Avanell did work on her quilt in her office Tuesday. Maybe Michelle just assumed since the sewing stuff was in the office, Avanell must have been working on it on Wednesday.” Harriet worried, too late, that Darcy might wonder how she would know that, but Darcy didn't seem to notice.

"In fact, it probably doesn't matter what she was or wasn't doing at work. I don't believe it was a random robbery-Foggy Point just doesn't have this type of crime. We're not big enough to attract the kind of people who plan this type theft. We have our share of drug problems down by the docks, but those people don't usually stray more than a half-dozen blocks in each direction. If they're stealing to feed a habit, they aren't doing it in Foggy Point."

"Still, it's kind of weird she's telling people Avanell was sewing. One of the factory workers told me Avanell often worked packing vitamins to save on paying overtime."

"Maybe Michelle doesn't want people to know about Avanell's financial difficulties."

"Was Avanell having money trouble?"

"I'm sorry, I've said too much already."

A short man in a dark suit came out of the trees and went up the aisle. He spoke in hushed tones to Avanell's family. Bertrand, Marcel and Aiden got up and followed the man back to the chapel. A red-faced Michelle passed them at the clearing.