'I'm fine,” Carla insisted, trying for defiance but missing badly.
'I might not be able to fix what's wrong, but we won't know unless you tell me. I've learned that sometimes the telling can be a help, and with five boys, I've had a lot of practice listening.'
Carla took a moment to compose herself as she pulled a stool away from the counter and sat on it. Mavis followed suit, placing her seat so her knees were touching Carla's.
'My sister has been taking care of Wendy.” Carla hesitated, and Mavis reached out and took her hand. “Wendy, she's my baby. Anyway, Cissy has been taking care of Wendy while I'm here, but she heard there was a new restaurant opening in Port Ludlow, and she called and got an interview for tomorrow. I have to go home and pick up Wendy from her.” She looked around. “This was really fun,” she said sadly and stood up. “I better go. Cissy said if I can get to the ferry that leaves in an hour and a half, her boyfriend is working construction in Port Townsend, and he can give me a ride back to Foggy Point.'
'Just you hold on a minute. Let me see what I can do.” Mavis patted the hand she held before she got up to fetch the phone.
Carla rubbed her sleeve over her face again. Mavis turned away as she spoke quietly into the receiver. After what must have seemed like an eternity to Carla, she hung up the phone and turned back around.
'Go unpack your bag,” she said. “Then you can call your sister and tell her your friend Beth is going to pick up Wendy in the morning. Beth can keep her until one of you gets back.'
Carla's eyes filled with tears again, but her shy smile had reappeared.
'Thank you, Miz Mavis.'
The older woman smiled and handed her a tissue from a box on the counter.
'Now those are happy tears,” she said. “Go tend to business, and then you can come down and have a nice warm cup of tea.'
'What took you so long?” Harriet asked when Mavis returned to the common room with the fresh pot of tea.
Before she answered, Mavis settled into her spot at the end of the sofa and picked up a plastic sandwich bag full of pre-cut triangular pieces of fabric in rich brown-toned batiks and an array of coordinating prints. She preferred to piece and quilt by hand with needle and thread instead of using a sewing machine. Harriet had to concede that hand work offered a portability and simplicity machine sewing didn't.
'Carla was having a little crisis, but we've got everything under control-for now, anyway. That little girl is truly living her life on the edge.'
'Oh, you don't know the half of it,” Harriet said.
'At least she has a job,” Connie pointed out.
'That doesn't guarantee anything.” Harriet refilled her teacup.
'Anybody want to tell me what's been going on here?” Darcy asked. “I send you gals off to have a relaxing week of quilting, and here we are.” She swept her arms open to indicate the women sitting around the coffee table sipping tea.
No one spoke, and then they all started speaking at once.
'Hold on,” Darcy said. “One at a time, please.'
By the time Mavis, Connie and Harriet had finished recounting what had happened in the last two and a half days, starting with Lauren's exhibition and ending with Selestina's death, Robin and Lauren had joined the tea party.
'Have you figured out how to prove my piece is the original?” Lauren demanded of Harriet, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.
'A woman's dead here, Lauren. Don't you think accusing her of ripping off your work is in poor taste, given the circumstance?'
'You're the one who said Selestina was the most likely person, not Lauren,” Sarah pronounced as she swept in and plopped down on the couch between Mavis and Robin.
Harriet was trying to think of how to admit her lack of progress without setting off another outburst from Lauren when a tap on the door distracted the group and saved her.
'Hello? Anyone here?” Patience called from the entryway.
'We're in here,” Connie called back. “We're just having a cup of tea. Would you like to join us?” She got up. “Here, you can have my spot.” She picked up the once-again-depleted teapot for another refill.
Patience wore a gauzy skirt that appeared to be made up of several layers, each dyed a different shade of gray-black. She'd paired it with a black tunic-length ribbed turtleneck sweater that she'd belted at the waist with a wide black calfskin belt she had tied instead of buckled. She managed to look stylish in an arty sort of way and still honor Selestina with her mourning black.
'How are you doing,” Mavis asked. “We're all so sorry for your loss.'
'It has been quite a shock,” Patience said. “Selestina was older of course, but I believe she was in good health.'
'Are you sure you want us to finish out our week of classes?” Mavis asked. “Under the circumstances, I don't think anyone would expect a refund.” By the look on both Sarah's and Lauren's faces, Harriet was pretty sure that wasn't a wholly accurate assumption.
'Thank you for that, but Selestina wanted the school to keep operating. She made plans for every eventuality. She was a bit compulsive that way. And this is her legacy, after all.'
'Won't that be up to her son?” Harriet asked. “Or her other relatives?'
'Tom is her only child, and let's just say he's not all that interested in this place.'
That's an understatement, Harriet thought. It looked to her like he'd been planning to sell it out from under his mother.
'Selestina knew Tom had his own interests and that those didn't include the folk art school. That's why she'd made other provisions. We were partners, you see.” Patience curved her lips into a weak smile. “She's the front man, I guess you'd call it. I've always worked more behind the scenes.” When she realized what she'd said, referring to Selestina in the present tense, she began to weep softly.
'I don't know how I'm supposed to go on without her,” she blubbered. “I thought all our planning was just talk-you know, something to make her feel better, not something that was really going to happen. I can't run this place alone. This wasn't part of the plan.” She covered her face with her hands, and tears leaked out between her fingers.
Connie went into the kitchenette for the tissue box. She pulled out three and brought them to Patience. Robin rubbed her hand on the teacher's bony back.
Patience blew her nose and sat up straighter, shaking off Robin's hand in the process. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't come here to make a scene. I came to make sure you were all right. And to be sure everyone knows school will go on as scheduled.” She stood up. “Thank you for the tea. I've got two more houses to inform, so I better be on my way.'
'That poor woman,” Connie said when Patience was gone.
'I have to agree. I can't see her running the place, either,” Harriet said. “Selestina seemed mean-spirited, but she also seemed to run a tight ship.'
'Honey, let's not judge too quickly. We've only seen Patience in Selestina's shadow. She might be a great businesswoman in her own right. And kinder, too,” Mavis suggested.
'Okay, so she's wonderful,” Lauren said. “Can we get back to my catastrophe?'
'So, tell me again what the deal is,” Darcy said. “Your piece looks like the teacher's piece and you're here learning from the teacher, so this is a problem why?'
'It's a problem because I didn't copy her work or anyone else's. Someone has to have copied mine.'
'If you're learning a certain skill set from a teacher, isn't it likely that everyone who takes the class will end up with something that looks similar?'
'We're studying machine embroidery, and hand dyeing our fabric. Selestina gave us a theme, but beyond that we could do anything. My piece didn't look like any of the other students'. And Selestina certainly never gave us any indication she was working on her own piece.'
