you might meet potential customers. Look at it as a business trip.'
Harriet knew she didn't need to talk to her aunt. Mavis was one of Beth's oldest and dearest friends. If Mavis said Aunt Beth was willing, it was true.
She held out her hand for the brochure. “Let me look,” she said.
The next hour passed in a blur of class descriptions and tea, but in the end, and with help from Mavis, Harriet had chosen a selection of workshop activities that would fill up her week of attendance. She set the registration form on her desk.
'I'll fax this in the morning,” she said.
'Make sure to say you want to be with the other Loose Threads on the line where they ask for housing preferences, and note that they're at the quilting school,” Mavis began gathering up her stitching and stowed it in her bag. “The school is for arts and crafts, not just quilting, so there will be other workshops going on at the same time. You could end up bunking with the painters or potters if you don't specify.” She buttoned her shirt, which had belonged to her husband and doubled as her jacket, gathered her bag and purse and headed for the door. “I have to run. Look who's here.'
Aiden Jalbert held the door as she stepped out.
Harriet tried unsuccessfully to change the fluttering in her stomach to anger. Aiden had no-showed for a dinner date three weeks before, and she hadn't heard from him since.
She reminded herself there was no reason she should have heard from him, given she had told him herself she was too old to date him. He was, after all, ten years her junior. Yet in spite of her logical self talk, her heart soared at the sight of him.
Strands of straight black hair fell over his forehead. He flicked a lock off his face, and she could see the dark circles under his odd white-blue eyes.
'Can I come in?” he asked and hesitated.
'Suit yourself,” she said and continued straightening papers on her desk.
He collapsed his tall frame into the leather chair and closed his eyes. “Feels good to sit,” he groaned, and her anger fled.
'Would you like a cup of tea?'
'What I'd like is to curl up with you and sleep for about a week,” he said without opening his eyes. “Since that's not likely, I'll take the tea.'
She crossed the room and checked the electric kettle; there was enough water for one cup.
'You're darn right it's not likely.'
'There's a good reason I didn't show up for dinner.'
'You don't owe me any explanations. Jorge told me you'd called, and he fixed me a chile relleno with a new sauce he's working on and he ate dinner with me and it was fine.'
'I would have called you myself, but I was in the middle of something.'
'Look, it's okay. I understand-things come up.” She pulled a ceramic mug from a shelf on the wall behind the wingback chair. “Lots of things, apparently, since that was three weeks ago.” She put a teabag in the cup and poured water over it.
'Do you read the newspaper?” Aiden asked and straightened in his chair.
'Are you trying to change the subject?'
'I'll take that as a no.” He took the mug of steaming tea. “Because if you did read the paper or watch the local news, you'd know there's been an epidemic of tainted pet food. We've got cats and dogs both going into kidney failure. All of us have been working round the clock, and we've still lost eight dogs and four cats.'
Harriet could see the toll that loss had taken etched into the lines on his face. “I don't know what to say.'
'I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't be ragging on you. I should have found a minute to call. There's no reason you should know what's going on at the vet clinic.'
'I knew DeAnn's dog had been in the hospital, but I didn't realize you had so many others.'
'We have no way of predicting how bad this is going to get. I don't think we're out of the woods yet, but we've had a little slow-down this week. It's probably temporary, but Dr. Johnson decided to go ahead and send me and one of the assistants to Angel Harbor to do a spay-neuter clinic he agreed to months ago.'
'You've got to be kidding,” Harriet said and sat down again.
'Why would I kid about a spay-neuter clinic?'
'It's just that the Loose Threads are going to a quilting workshop in Angel Harbor next week.'
'Geez, doesn't anyone in Foggy Point work? Besides you and me, of course.'
Aiden hadn't been living in town much longer than Harriet had, having spent several years in Africa doing vet work. Most of the members of the Loose Threads were a mystery to him.
'Well, Robin and DeAnn are stay-at-home moms. Connie and Mavis are retired, you knew that.” She counted her quilt group friends on her fingers. “Sarah has some kind of job at a company that runs assisted-living facilities in the area. Her uncle owns the business, and Aunt Beth said Sarah's mom made her brother hire Sarah because she kept getting fired from other places because of her charm. I'm guessing he's happy to have her take as much vacation as she wants. The sad part is, she has her masters in sociology. She probably could do a good job if she could get over herself.'
'What about Lauren?” he asked. “She must do something besides trying to sell unoriginal quilt patterns.'
'As a matter of fact, she's apparently some kind of freelance designer in the high-tech industry. I think Aunt Beth said she designs microchips or something like that. She's self-employed, so she can take off whenever she doesn't have a pressing contract.'
'Who would have guessed.” He took a sip of tea and grinned. “Things are suddenly looking up. You're a Thread, aren't you?'
'I guess I am. In any case, I'm going.'
'Will you let me take you out to dinner to make up for our missed date?'
'I'm just now signing up. I haven't talked to anyone but Mavis. I don't know how structured our evenings will be.'
Aiden made a sad face.
'If it's possible, yes, I'll try again, if only to avoid having to watch a grown man cry.'
Chapter Two
'Are you sure you don't mind working again so soon?” Harriet asked Aunt Beth the next morning as the two women sat in the sunny yellow kitchen. Harriet's fuzzy gray cat Fred wove between Aunt Beth's ankles under the table.
'It's no trouble. I had a full month to rest while I was on my European cruise.” She wheeled her arm around. “My shoulder feels great, and besides, I think most of the Loose Threads are going to the workshop so no one will be breathing down my neck waiting for anything. And it'll give you a chance to network with other quilters from our area.'
'Mavis said you'd say that. I guess I'll fax my registration in, then. This late maybe they won't have room for me, so it won't even matter.'
The two women got up and passed through the door that connected the kitchen to the studio. Harriet picked up the registration form from her desk and pulled a fax cover sheet from the shelf behind the desk.
'Oh, I think they'll make room,” Beth assured her. “They're already paying the teacher to appear, so the more people they cram into the class the more money they make.'
'That sounds kind of harsh,” Harriet said with a smile at her tell-it-like-it-is aunt.
'Wait until you get assigned a bed in the sleeping room that's ten flights of stairs up and is really an attic to the attic.'
Harriet pulled her papers back from the fax machine.
Aunt Beth laughed. “I'm exaggerating. They only over-booked us once and they got such an uproar they had to refund people's money, so they never did it again.'
Harriet put the papers back into the fax machine and hit the send button.
