Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As You Go

"I heard one of the teachers in Angel Harbor say we should try quilting thread for our hand-piecing. She seemed to think it was easier to use,” Carla offered.

"I'll try anything. It's hard to keep my thread from tangling when I use sewing thread, so maybe this will be the answer."

"Mavis told me to cut my length of thread shorter and it wouldn't tangle so much.” Carla looked at her feet. “She said it didn't pay to be lazy."

"Threading a needle every five minutes isn't my idea of fun, so I guess I'm lazy."

"Mavis showed me how to wax the end of my thread on a candle and then load a whole package of needles onto my spool. You tie a knot in the end of the thread and then each time you want a new needle, you grab it and pull some thread out, then clip the thread and needle from the spool and retie the end of the spool piece."

"She's been holding out on me,” Harriet said. Carla blushed. “That technique could really help me now. I think I'll get two packages of needles. My aunt can thread them on for me, and then I can stitch for quite a while without having to bug her."

Carla followed Harriet to the checkout counter, carrying the thread and needles for her. She rang up the purchase then hesitated as she put the items into one of the flowered bags Pins and Needles used for that purpose.

"Can I ask you a question?” she asked, looking everywhere except at Harriet. “About men,” she added, her face turning the familiar red color.

"Sure,” Harriet said, not sure she knew much more than Carla did where men were concerned.

"It's about the dinner I made the other night."

Harriet's mind immediately went to the practice meal Aiden had dumped her for, and wasn't sure if she'd be able to talk about it without her anger being obvious.

"I cooked dinner for Terry, my friend, the other night,” she started then faltered. Of course-she was going to talk about the main event, Harriet thought with relief. Why would she give the practice dinner a second thought?

"And?” she prompted. “What happened?"

"He cancelled. I'd already prepared the do-ahead stuff and everything. What did I do wrong?” Carla pleaded.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. We'd been talking about food. He said his mom wasn't a very inspired cook. I can't think of anything we talked about that would have scared him away."

"It probably wasn't anything to do with you,” Harriet said. She put her good hand on Carla's shoulder. “Sometimes things happen that have nothing to do with us,” she added, thinking that little bit of wisdom applied to most of her childhood.

"He had come over for coffee and we were talking about food. I was getting him warmed up so I could ask him, and then his phone made a noise and he looked at it."

"Could you see his phone screen?"

"I saw it light up, but I couldn't see if he got a text or what. I asked him if he could come to dinner that night, and he said no, so I said how about tomorrow and he said no, and I was afraid to ask anymore."

"Something must have come up. Someone contacted him, and he had to meet them or do something for them. Have you seen him since?"

"He stopped by here, but he made excuses for why he can't come to Aiden's house at night, and he did it before I could even try to invite him again. I'm starting to wonder if he's a vampire or something."

"It's daytime that vampires don't like, not night. Besides, you said he eats, right? And drinks coffee?"

"Just because they live on blood doesn't mean they can't eat food. They just don't need to. And they have to hunt at night."

"You don't seriously believe in vampires, do you?” Harriet couldn't believe she was having this conversation with Carla, of all people. If there was anyone acquainted with the real world, it was Carla.

Carla pulled a thick book with a black cover from under the counter, one of a popular teen vampire series.

"Come on, you know that's fiction."

"It sounds so real, though, the way the young man protects her."

"Oh, Carla, it's a nice fairy tale, but he's just like your knight when you were little and your mom locked you in the closet. He helped you through a rough time, but he wasn't a real person.

"I know,” she said with a crooked smile. “But sometimes when people do weird stuff it's easier to believe in fairy tales."

"Do you think Aiden said something to him?” Harriet asked, pulling the conversation back to reality.

"Not that I know of. He's always been really friendly when Terry is there, and he usually goes to some other part of the house when Terry visits."

"Terry said he's trying to find people his dad worked with. Maybe he did."

"I don't think so. He doesn't like to talk about his dad."

"I'm not putting Terry down,” Harriet said, “but there's something strange about his search for information about his father."

"What?"

"I'm not sure. He seems like a smart guy, but he's trying to find out about his dad by just asking around in a town they lived in once. It would make sense if his dad was still alive, but he isn't."

Carla leaned against the back counter and picked at her lip.

"I'm sorry I don't have better answers. I'm not that great with men myself.” Harriet picked up her bag and started to leave. “Oh, before I forget, Mavis asked about extra-wide quilt backing.” She described what Mavis was looking for, and Carla showed her the options, two of which seemed like possible choices.

"Tell you what,” she said. “I'll talk to Aiden tonight and see what he thinks. He's a guy, maybe he can enlighten us."

Carla busied herself straightening a stack of postcards telling about an upcoming guild show.

"I could cook dinner for you,” she said in a quiet voice.

"What?” Harriet asked, not hearing her clearly.

Carla looked up.

"Could you come to dinner tonight? I can try out another recipe your aunt Beth taught me."

"I think that would be delightful,” Harriet said with an encouraging smile.

She left the store, heading for her car. Going home wasn't an appealing option right now, with the Willis family reunion going on, so she pointed her car toward Foggy Point Fire Protection. Like Gerry, Carlton had been a newly minted college graduate who had just joined the company twenty years ago. Now he owned the company-if anyone had answers, Carlton would.

She pulled into the visitors section of the parking lot and was relieved that the other spaces were empty.

"Hey, Lynn,” she said when she entered the small reception area. Foggy Point Fire Protection was not the type of business that hosted a lot of customers onsite, so their waiting room had an industrial quality to it, with gray indoor/outdoor carpeting and two groupings of molded plastic chairs arranged around a stern mannequin wearing the company's signature fire protection gear.

"Oh, hi, Harriet. Do you need to see Carlton?” Lynn asked. Carlton 's lack of cooperation during the lead-up to the re-enactment had necessitated so many trips to his workplace Harriet had sworn she would never come here again, yet here she was for the second time in a week. “Did you find the man you were looking for?"

"Yes, I'd like to see Carlton, if he's in and no, I haven't found Mr. Jansen yet. By the way, has anyone else come by asking about my mystery man?"

"No, you're the only one's who's looked in those books in years. The way the economy's been, we haven't hired anyone in ages, so we haven't even added any new pictures."

"And you're sure no one else has asked to see the pictures or asked about anyone who used to work here?"

"Trust me. I'm here every day, eight to five. And on the rare occasion I leave my desk for lunch, I put the phones on automatic and lock the office. If someone called or came in, I'd know it."