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?'
'Not much. I know he hasn't lived here that long. Bertrand hired him when their longtime finance guy left suddenly. Avanell was happy Bertie found someone so quickly. He's been active in various community groups. I guess I don't know any more than that.'
'Do you know if he's seen any women since he's been here?'
'Avanell didn't say anything about it.'
Harriet looked into her tea. “And then there's Aiden. I know you don't think he'd hurt his mother but now that we know what her will says, he does have the most to gain from her death. And apart from that, he's made it very clear he's ready to jump into a relationship. I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship with anyone, much less a man ten years younger than me.'
'Just hold on a minute. Are you sure you're looking at this situation right? I raised five boys and I don't mean to be indelicate, but I don't think it's a relationship that boy is hoping to jump into. Specially after three years in Africa. Maybe you're the one who's got relationships on her mind.'
Harriet started to speak, but her protest died on her lips.
Mavis went to the sink, dumped the cold remains out of her cup, put a fresh tea bag in and poured hot water over it.
'Age doesn't matter one whit when it comes down to it. My dear Thomas was six years younger than me, and it didn't make a lick of difference. If you've got designs on that boy, you need to figure out whether you can get past his age, but if it were me, I wouldn't be counting my chickens before they were hatched.'
A soft warmth crept up Harriet's neck and spread onto her cheeks. “I don't have ‘designs on that boy.’”
'He is a cute little thing, though, isn't he?” Mavis said and smiled.
'He's attractive, he's intelligent, and he has good energy.'
'But?” Mavis asked.
'It's just all so much so quick. I haven't spent time with any man for five years, and now suddenly I've got two men calling me up and taking me out to dinners and wanting to go on drives and hikes and out to coffee.'
'I imagine it's a little overwhelming. But you know you don't have to take things any faster than you want to, honey. Any man worth having will be willing to take things however slow you need to go. If he isn't willing to put on the brakes, well, then that tells you something right there.'
'That's easier said than done. I had a counselor tell me once that my problems stem from an unwillingness to set boundaries. She'd probably think my willingness to let Aunt Beth give me her business without a moment's notice is a prime example of that. And I suppose it's true.'
'There has to be a difference between setting boundaries and just rejecting everything out of hand.'
'There is. In the case of Aunt Beth's gift, she felt that I needed to make a change and I wasn't going to make it without a boot in the rear end. It happens it might have been the right thing to do. I didn't think so at first, and I'd like to think that if I truly believed coming to Foggy Point is the wrong thing to do I'd leave. But frankly, other than at the hospital, I haven't considered anything but staying here and making a new life for myself.'
'I'm glad to hear you say that, ‘specially given what's been happening lately. How about I heat up a couple of frozen dinners and we put on a movie and escape for a while?'
'Sounds good to me,” Harriet said. She was beginning to have a real appreciation for Mavis's well-developed ability to avoid reality.
Chapter Thirty-three
Harriet woke early the next morning but waited until she heard Mavis turn on the shower to pull on her jeans and sweatshirt and slip out the back door into the woods. Carla was already in the potting shed when she pulled the door open.
'How's she doing?” she asked.
'I'm here, too,” Misty said. “Don't act like I'm not.'
'She didn't mean anything, Misty. Harriet here is a friend. She got your medicine for you.'
'She doesn't care about me,” Misty said. “She just wants what she wants.'
'I'm sorry, Misty. I really do want to help you. I just think you can help me, too.'
Carla must have arrived just a few minutes earlier; she had a fast food bag in her hand. She dug two white Styrofoam boxes from the bag and handed one to Misty.
'Here, I brought you some breakfast. You might feel better if you eat. It's time to take another pill, too.” She opened her own box and started wolfing the contents.
'I don't want to talk about Miz Jalbert and her family.” Misty wrapped her arms around herself and started to rock. “That family is bad, bad, bad.'
Carla opened the top of Misty's box, revealing two pancakes, a pale yellow clump of scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon. A ball of whipped butter slid from the pancakes to the side of the box. She stabbed a white plastic fork into them.
'Try to eat something, okay? I gotta go to work, but I'll come back when I get off.” She pulled a paper-wrapped bundle from the bag and set it on the wooden box that served as a table. “They don't make nothing but breakfast
