Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As You Go

"How so?"

"Hold your horses, I'm coming to that.” She looked at her paper again. “Gerard surfaced in Amsterdam the year after he left here. He wasn't exactly hiding. He gave a paper at a small conference that had something to do with industrial products. I'm not exactly sure what-I had to use a language translation program, so it's a little rough. He definitely delivered a paper. He seems to have attended a number of conferences that year. Nothing too big, but it seems like he was networking in his field."

"Is that the wow news?"

"No, that's not the big news. It is interesting, though, don't you think? He obviously wasn't concerned about hiding from everyone-just Foggy Pointers, or maybe just Americans."

Harriet gave her an impatient look.

"Okay, already,” Lauren continued. “The big news is that he took out a patent on a fiber formula then sold it for lots of money to a company that makes body armor. So, I guess he could afford to work as a simple peasant. He's got a few mil in the bank. Double-digit millions."

"Wow,” Harriet said in spite of herself. “You're right, I owe you for that."

"Don't worry,” Lauren said. “You will pay."

She stayed until she'd finished her lemonade and cookies. Harriet asked her a few polite questions about what she was working on for her ongoing class at the Angel Harbor Folk Art School. After a few smart remarks, she offered to show Harriet her latest project samples. Harriet followed her to her car, where Lauren pulled out a pizza box filled with ten-inch-square samples in a variety of techniques. Her final project would be a three-dimensional vine-covered cottage. She was trying out stitch combinations to make a thatch roof, vine-covered walls, wooden doors and windows and a rose bush. Harriet was amazed by the intricacy of the detail as well as the density of stitching.

"We had to dye our own thread and ribbon, too."

"These are really cool,” Harriet said and realized she actually meant it.

"I gotta go,” Lauren said and got in her car.

"Thanks for the info."

Lauren waved and drove off down the driveway.

Harriet went back into the studio where her aunt was still working on the show quilt.

"Mavis called while you were outside with Lauren,” Aunt Beth said.

"What did she want?"

"She wants you to call her. I told her you would call as soon as Lauren left."

"Do you know what she wants?"

"Her boys are all coming to town for the funeral service. She's going to talk to Ilsa about going forward with whatever plans they need to make. The boys decided they're coming to support their mother no matter what happens, and if nothing else, they'll have a small private memorial of their own."

"And that has what to do with me?"

"You know she only has two bedrooms in the cottage. She was wondering if you'd be willing to let a couple of the boys stay in your spare bedrooms."

"I'm guessing that me calling is a mere formality,” Harriet said and tried to look serious. Her aunt didn't deny it, and Harriet ended up laughing in spite of herself. “You two are impossible."

"You know you wouldn't have said no."

"Of course I wouldn't say no, but it makes me feel like such a grown-up when I get to say yes, or heaven forbid, offer before I'm asked. And I would have as soon as she told me they were coming."

"I know, dear,” Aunt Beth said, and patted Harriet's good arm.

"Do I at least get to pick which sons I get?"

"Call Mavis."

Harriet went into the kitchen and called Mavis. After reassuring her it was okay with her to have the boys stay at her house, she listened while Mavis went into a detailed analysis of which of her sons would be the best house guests.

"Mavis, it'll be fine. Send whoever you want. I've got plenty of room… Send all three of them if you want. It'll take the pressure off you and your house… Okay, I'll await their arrival.” She hung up. “Get ready for company, Fred. The Willis boys are coming."

"So let me get this straight,” Aiden said when he stopped by Harriet's on his way home from work. “You're hosting a house full of testosterone-fueled men?"

"Don't be ridiculous,” Harriet said. “I'll probably have the youngest boys."

"From what I hear, they were the worst of the lot. And they're not that young-a couple of aging troublemakers. If they step a toe out of line, they'll have me to contend with."

"You're such a tough guy,” she said and pulled him into a hug made only slightly awkward by her right arm being strapped to her chest.

"How much longer do you have to wear this iron maiden?” he asked with a smile.

Harriet used the fingers of her good hand to sweep a strand of hair out of his eyes. “The doctor said it could be six weeks-sooner if I heal more quickly."

He caught her fingers in his hand and pulled them to his lips.

"That seems an eternity, m'lady."

"You'll live."

"Can I take you to dinner?"

"I told Aunt Beth I'd make her dinner, since she's been doing all my work. I've got chicken in the oven. Want to join us?"

"Of course."

"Wait a minute. Aren't you supposed to be babysitting Wendy tonight?"

"I was, but dinner got cancelled; and before you ask, Carla didn't tell me any more than that."

With Aiden's help, Harriet made a cold cauliflower salad and a tossed green salad to go with the chicken.

"Honey, this is wonderful.” Aunt Beth proclaimed.

"You're only saying that because you didn't have to cook,” Harriet said.

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation, and Aiden got up to see the guests in.

"Hi,” said a tall, thin red-headed man. “Hey, aren't you Marcel's little brother?"

Aiden didn't say anything.

"Dude, you gotta know those eyes give you away every time."

Harriet came up behind Aiden.

"Hi, I'm Harriet,” she said. “Are you Harry or Ben?"

"I'm Harry. Ben's parking the car. He sent me to check things out. We're pretty sure my mom and your aunt volunteered your house. We just wanted to give you a chance to bail. If it isn't a good time for you, we can go get a hotel room."

Aiden started to speak, but Harriet poked him hard in the back and whatever he'd intended to say came out as a cough.

"You'll do no such thing,” Harriet said. “I would have offered in any case."

Harry Willis turned back and waved to his brother to park the car.

"We're in,” he called.

Aunt Beth stayed until the two youngest Willis boys were settled in their rooms then returned to the peace of her own cottage.

"I better go, too,” Aiden announced. “The feral cat people are bringing a group of females in, and I got spay duty. We're starting early in the morning, so I'll need my beauty rest. I'll check with you later in the day and make sure you're surviving."

Harriet kissed him lightly on the cheek, and he pulled her to him in a gentle hug. He tilted his face to the ceiling.

"This brace thing is killing me,” he muttered.

"You've made that clear,” Harriet said with a rueful smile. “I'm sorry."

He kissed her then held her for another minute before turning and going out the door.

Harriet was still in the studio a few moments later, when she heard a soft knock on the outside door.

"Hey, did you forget something?” she asked as she opened the door. Her smile faded when she realized it wasn't Aiden.

"Sorry,” the man on her porch said. “I hope it's not too late to come by to see my brothers.

"Oh, Gerry, hi,” Harriet said, recognizing him. “Aiden just left. I thought maybe he'd forgotten something. Come in."

He looked at her arm strapped to her side.