Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As You Go

She shrugged.

"You've been through twice since I've been here, and I don't imagine anything has changed either trip. People aren't supposed to start arriving until tonight."

"Some of them are already here."

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Thanks, but I'm waiting for Foggy Point Rent-all to deliver the portable bleachers that will be set up on the rise that overlooks the main battle field. After that, we just need the crowd to arrive.” She looked around the parking area for the hundredth time.

"Tell me again why Carlton isn't doing this?"

"That's a rhetorical question, right?” Harriet glanced at her aunt.

"I know. He's too busy keeping Bebe happy.” Aunt Beth smiled. “You know, Carlton didn't really date anyone until Bebe, and he was past forty when she blew into town. Old Marvin was so afraid his son would never marry he didn't even care if the bride was the assistant at his dentist's office. He'd given up on Carlton producing an heir. Fortunately, Carlton 's sister Frances took care of that, although she had four girls. Still, he paid for that big house Carlton and Bebe live in- Carlton 's reward for catching her, I guess."

"As long as he shows up for his welcoming speech before the main battle, I don't care what he does with Bebe. Like I said, it's easier to get most things done without him. I still can't believe someone so incompetent runs a company as big as Foggy Point Fire Protection."

"The only skill he needs to run the company is the ability to hire good people to do the work."

"Must be nice,” Harriet mused.

Aunt Beth looked past Harriet's shoulder. “Here come your bleachers,” she said.

"Want to meet for lunch when I'm done here?” Harriet waved to the driver of the delivery truck.

They agreed to meet at the Sandwich Board at noon. She reminded Beth to turn on her cell phone in case she needed to amend their plan.

"Everything set up?” Aunt Beth asked as Harriet sat down at their table by the window three hours later.

"Surprisingly, everything went without a hitch. The seats are done, and the rental people will pick them up as soon as the final event finishes. I guess they have problems with drug users stealing pieces and selling them as scrap metal. They said we don't have to call them or anything."

"I tried to track Sarah down to get her last quilt for you, but I couldn't find her. I drove over to the Senior Living Center where she works, and they said she had taken a few days off."

"Look.” Harriet pointed out the window. Carla was crossing the street with a stocky young man wearing a tight black T-shirt that showed every well-toned muscle. His hair was cut short, military style, and could have been blond or brown-she couldn't tell.

"That must be her new young man,” Aunt Beth said and sipped her iced tea.

"He looks like he belongs on a recruiting poster for the police or military or something."

"She looks happy."

"I just hope he doesn't take advantage of her."

"Now, why would you think that? He looks clean and well dressed."

"In an army surplus kind of way. I'm just saying.” Harriet smiled and held her hands up in mock surrender.

"You're just anti-men, with the rather glaring exception of a certain young vet who shall remain nameless."

"I am not. Don't forget Harold. We've been out to dinner several times."

"Forget is exactly what I'm trying to do when it comes to that guy. There's something shifty about him, I don't care what you say."

Harold Minter was the finance manager at the Vitamin Factory, which Aiden's family owned and had operated until his uncle was jailed for murdering his mother. The factory was temporarily closed while Harold and the other managers tried to sort out where the business stood once you eliminated revenue from the illegal activities Uncle Bertrand had been running. Carla had been one of the factory workers displaced by the shutdown.

"Just because he's a bean counter and bald doesn't mean he's shifty,” Harriet protested.

"I don't trust him as far as I can throw him,” Aunt Beth said. “That fella…” She pointed at the young man who was now helping Carla into a gray late model car. “…he looks trustworthy."

"A short haircut and muscles do not make someone trustworthy,” Harriet countered.

Aunt Beth laughed and picked up her purse. “Come on, honey. We got work to do."

The first full day of the re-enactment went by in a blur of activity. Skirmishes were fought, camps were made, Civil War life was imitated and quilts were sold. When the last major event was completed, the Foggy Point Business Association would be able to pat itself on the back for a job well done.

So far, everything had gone as planned. The planning group had used conservative attendance figures, and with one full day left to go they had already exceeded those numbers, both for participants and audience. The quilt sales had been brisk, and everyone agreed that anything they had left would be donated to the local women's shelter.

The main battle would be fought Saturday afternoon, after which participants would gather for a group barbecue. Harriet was working in the sutler's booth Saturday morning.

Mavis arrived mid-morning. She was wearing a gray dress with a subtle blue stripe that matched the blue of her apron.

"Connie did a nice job on your costume,” she said.

"You're back!” Harriet exclaimed. “I was starting to get worried."

"I didn't think I was going to be gone this long,” Mavis said. “Something was fishy about the babysitter's absence, though. I ran out of diaper cream, and since I had to go out anyway and baby seemed up for it, I went across town to southeast Portland so I could check out a new quilt store, Cool Cottons. We parked in front of a coffee shop, and while I was getting the stroller out, I looked in the window and there was MacKenzie, their sitter, big as life, drinking an iced coffee."

"Are you sure it was her?"

"She saw me and looked like she'd seen a ghost. She knocked a chair over on her way out the back door."

"What did your son say?"

"He said she told them she had a family funeral, and that everyone grieves in their own way.” Mavis put her small cloth purse in a box under the table they were using as a sales counter. “I feel bad enough being gone, without having to wonder if their sitter was scamming them to get a few days off in the summer."

"Well, whether it was for a funeral or because your son got scammed by his babysitter, they still needed you and that's what's important."

"I guess.” Mavis sighed. “It was just poor timing, is all I can say. You had enough to do without having to do my part, too."

"Oh, stop,” Harriet said and gave her friend a quick hug.

The two women discussed what had gone on in Foggy Point while Mavis was gone as well as the new fabric she'd seen while she was in Portland.

"Robin and DeAnn should be here any minute,” Harriet said, and looked at the antique brass table clock Aunt Beth had brought to the booth. Watches and cell phones were strictly forbidden. “I want to be in the stands when Carlton gives his speech and rings the bell for the grand battle. Want to come with?"

"I've missed so much work, I probably should stay here and try to sell some quilts,” Mavis said.

"You did plenty of work before the event. Besides, there aren't that many quilts left to sell. I'm sure Robin and DeAnn can handle it."

"Someone talking about me?” Robin asked as she lifted a flap at the back of the sutler's booth and entered. “Actually, I heard you talking while I was behind the tent untangling my petticoats. I agree, Mavis, go watch the battle. DeAnn and I will be fine."

Robin adjusted her bonnet over her close-cropped blond hair. When she'd arrived at the booth Thursday, she'd had a costume wig with a bun under her hat, but it had proved to be too hot. Her usual mode of dress was the latest in yoga wear and was heavy on stretch. She was struggling with the voluminous skirts and associated undergarments worn by the Civil War-era women.