Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As Desired

A light mist filled the air as Harriet and Mavis said their goodbyes and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Harriet's new jacket didn't have a hood, and by the time they had walked to the car to deposit her bags and then on to Tico's her hair was damp.

A young woman with thick black hair pulled back into a neat braid showed them to a booth by the window. Harriet got up immediately and went to the restroom to use the hand dryer on her hair. When she returned, Mavis was dipping a blue corn chip into a stone bowl overflowing with guacamole. Harriet grabbed a chip and had just dipped it into the bowl when a pair of hands covered her eyes.

"Guess who?” Aiden said.

It was all she could do to not scream. She pried his hands off her eyes and turned around.

"What happened to your eyes?” she asked, and felt the color drain from her face.

"What do you mean?” he asked. “Oh, these?"

He pointed to his eye then cupped his hand in front of his face and pinched his eye surface with his thumb and forefinger. A brown sliver of plastic fell into his hand. He held it out for her to see. His eye was now its normal pale color. The other one remained dark brown.

"Mom got me dark contacts the first time we traveled out of the country. When I was in Africa, I had to wear them all the time-my eye color freaked out the locals. I still have a bunch of them, and frankly, it's easier sometimes to blend in."

"It's amazing how different they make you look,” she said.

"They look natural,” Mavis said. “Sarah wears colored lenses that make her eyes a color of green never before seen in nature."

"I'd be happy to have normal brown or blue eyes like everyone else,” he confessed.

"Don't try and tell me you didn't use your looks to your advantage with the girls when you were in high school,” Mavis said. “I was here, remember."

He had the grace to blush. “Are you ladies having lunch?"

"Would you care to join us?” Mavis invited him.

"I thought you'd never ask,” he said and sat next to Harriet, his leg pressed against hers.

Harriet was distracted during lunch in spite of the delicious tomatillo enchiladas and Spanish rice she ate. Aiden was at his charming best, making Mavis smile throughout the meal, but there was something about this brown-eyed Aiden that bothered her.

"Are you about done?” Mavis asked her.

"So soon?” Aiden protested.

"Almost,” Mavis said. “I'm going to powder my nose, then I think I need to get Harriet home for some rest. We've had a busy morning, and she's looking a bit peaky."

"I wish people wouldn't talk about me as if I weren't here.” She found this one of the less charming aspects of life in Foggy Point. Perhaps it was inevitable when most of your friends were old enough to be your mother.

Mavis patted her arm, got up and went to the restroom.

"So, what's wrong? And don't tell me you're just tired,” Aiden demanded.

"I am tired, but not like Mavis means. I'm tired of being in limbo.” She looked at the sleeve of her green coat. “I can't even wear my own clothes."

He put his arm around her and pulled her to his chest. “This is bound to be over soon."

"Have you heard something? Do they know who killed your mother?” She looked into his brown eyes.

He slumped. “No. I stopped by the police station on my way here. They have no idea. They're still going on the belief that she came back to work after dinner and startled a thief in the process of robbing the factory."

"You still don't believe it?"

"No, and don't try to tell me you do, either. I don't know who did it, but I'll bet it's not some stranger. It's going to be someone we know."

Mavis cleared her throat as she approached the table. Harriet straightened up, buttoned her coat and slid out of the booth.

"Can I come by and see you later?” Aiden asked.

She hesitated.

"We'll take a rain check,” Mavis answered for her. “We're going to Tacoma tomorrow and need to rest up."

"Thank you,” Harriet said when they were outside again.

"I may be old, but I can catch a hint with the best of them."

"I can't deal with Aiden and Harold right now on top of everything else. They're both trying to be so helpful, but I'm not sure I completely trust either one of them."

"We can agree to disagree about Aiden, and I don't know Harold well enough to have an opinion, but you don't need any more pressure right now."

"That we can agree about."

Harriet waited until Mavis had fallen asleep in her chair before she went out to the potting shed in the woods.

"Misty,” she called quietly. “Misty."

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word…"

Harriet opened the door slowly. “Misty? It's Harriet. I have your medicine."

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark room. She couldn't see Misty at first, but finally spotted her cowering in the corner on what looked like a pile of rags. She stepped closer and could see the woman was methodically tearing a baby quilt into small strips.

"I brought you your medicine,” she said, and held out a pill and a bottle of water-she wasn't sure Misty had heard her.

The young woman started humming again. “Hmmm, my brown-eyed girl… hm hm hm hm hm hm, ohhh my brown-eyed girl.

"Misty?” She thought the woman was going to continue ignoring her, but suddenly Misty leaped at her and grabbed the pill. Harriet held out the bottle of water. She wasn't sure what she'd do if Misty threw the pill into the rag pile but was pretty sure she was going to find out.

They stood looking at each other for a long minute. Misty opened her mouth, tossed the pill in and tilted her head back, dry swallowing it. She sank onto the rag pile, picked up the tattered remains and began picking.

Harriet set the bottle of water on the floor and backed outside. She hoped one pill would cause enough of a difference to make the next easier to administer.

She stood for a moment outside the shed but realized there wasn't anything else she could do until the medicine had a chance to work.

Mavis was still in her chair asleep when she returned. Fred came out from behind the sofa and climbed on her lap when she sat down.

"So, what does it all mean, Fred?” She scratched his ears, and he started purring. “Is it just a coincidence that Misty is out there shredding her quilt? Could she have killed Avanell?” She looked at the cat. “If Misty is the killer, what motive would she have for trashing Aunt Beth's house or Lauren's quilt?"

Fred didn't have any answers. Harriet pulled a throw pillow down from the back of the sofa and propped it on the arm. She and Fred were both asleep a moment after her head hit it.

When she woke up, it was dark outside; and Fred was licking her face.

"Stop,” she said and sat up. She set the cat on the floor and went into the kitchen. The tea kettle was still warm. She pulled an English Breakfast teabag from the cabinet and poured water over it. Mavis came in as she was stirring sugar into her tea.

"Do you feel better?” Mavis asked.

"Yeah, I guess. My head doesn't hurt anymore, but my stitches are starting to itch, so I guess that's a good sign."

"I'm glad you're head is better, but I'm thinking that's not what was bothering you this afternoon."

"You're right. It wasn't my head. It was the two men I was with. First, Harold, who seems perfectly nice. He's very kind, but…"

"He doesn't light your fire,” Mavis supplied.

"I guess you could say that. But what was bothering me today was what Marjory said about him."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing specific. It's just a feeling she has, I guess. I know you don't know him, but did Avanell ever say anything?"