Quilt by Association

by Arlene Sachitano

  "We might as well,” Robin replied. “We're all here."

  Everyone else had gone in when Harriet started up the stairs to the porch. A crunch of gravel signaled a vehicle coming up the driveway—fast. Aiden's Bronco slid to a stop, and he jumped out.

  "What happened?” he shouted. “Where are Carla and Wendy?"

  Harriet turned to meet him as he leaped the porch steps two at a time.

  "Wendy and Carla are in the house,” she said. “They're fine."

  He stopped. “So, why did Angela hear on the police scanner there was a ten-forty-five-C at my address?"

  "Who is Angela, and what's a ten-forty-five-C?” Harriet asked.

  "Angela works in my office. She heard the police scanner calling for an ambulance pick-up for a person in serious condition.” He raked the fingers of his left hand through his silky black hair.

  Harriet put her hand on his back and gently patted.

  "Let's go inside,” she said.

  "Let's stop treating me like a child and tell me what happened."

  "Okay. We were having a Loose Threads meeting in your upstairs parlor, and we looked out the window, saw something under a bush, investigated and discovered an unconscious woman."

  "An unconscious woman?” he demanded. “What woman?"

  "Can we please go inside? It's cold out here."

  He brushed past her and wrenched the door open. She followed, and as soon as she was through the door, he whirled to face her.

  "What woman?” he demanded.

  "She claims she's the sister of a friend of yours from Africa—Nabirye Obote."

  "She was conscious when you found her?"

  "No, she wasn't conscious today. She said that when she first came to town."

  "So, you know her? Did she come here to see you?” His voice was getting louder as he paced across the kitchen.

  "Can we sit down a minute?” Harriet went to the breakfast nook and sat at the table.

  "Harriet, what's going on here?"

  She sighed. Her decision to spare him the additional stress while he was in Ephrata didn't look like such a good one now.

  "This woman came to town looking for you—” she began.

  "What woman? Why was she looking for me?"

  "I'm trying to tell you.” She put her hands on her knees and took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. “This woman, Neelie, came into Pins and Needles. At first, she just said she was looking for you. We—Aunt Beth and I—told her you weren't here. She asked us about a hotel and left."

  "Is she the one who grabbed your phone?” Aiden asked, his voice still too loud.

  "The Threads are upstairs,” Harriet pleaded.

  "I don't care,” he said, louder than before. “It's my house. Or, at least, I thought it was."

  She knew it was his lack of sleep talking, but it still hurt.

  "The next day,” she continued, “she showed up here. She claimed the baby she had with her was her sister's and that her sister had asked her to bring the baby to you."

  "Why would her sister send her baby to me?” he interrupted.

  "Aiden, I don't know why any of this happened. I didn't tell you this because I thought you already had so much to deal with, and you couldn't do anything about it until you were back anyway."

  "So, she came to my house with the baby...” He made a rolling motion with his hand.

  "She said she didn't have any money for a hotel, so we assumed she didn't have money for formula or milk, either.” Harriet paused. “Then she had some sort of episode. She's a diabetic, but she wouldn't admit it. She got sort of faint. I gave her orange juice, and she perked up. Anyway, we didn't know what to do—"

  "I told her she could stay here,” Carla said. Neither one had seen her come down the servant's stairs. Kissa was perched on her hip. “She was starving the baby."

  She set the empty bottle in her hand on the counter. Kissa started fussing, and Carla jiggled her gently. As she turned to take a seat, Aiden got his first look at Kissa's face and her pale-blue eyes.

  His reaction was palpable. His face froze then turned an angry red.

  "You thought this was my baby?” he hissed.

  "We didn't know,” Harriet said in a quiet voice.

  "What? You thought I got a woman in Africa pregnant and then just left?"

  "We assumed you didn't know about it."

  "But you assumed I could have."

  "Aiden, we didn't know what to think. This woman showed up, said her sister died and that she'd brought you a baby at her sister's request. What were we supposed to think?"

  "You let some strange woman and her baby into my house without even asking me?” he shouted as he stormed across the kitchen, stopping inches from her.

  Aunt Beth and Mavis came down the servant's stairs.

  "You lower your voice, young man,” Aunt Beth commanded.

  "And back off,” Mavis added.

  Aiden strode to the back door, running an angry hand through his hair.

  "I've got to check on my patients,” he said in a low voice. “And I want everyone out of here before I get back.” He slammed the door as he went out.

  The women stared after him, and then all started to speak at once.

  "He's tired and stressed,” Aunt Beth said.

  "And I'm sure he'll see the sense of what we did when he's had time to think about it,” Mavis agreed.

  Harriet put a hand on each of their arms and nodded toward Carla. Tears were running down the young woman's face.

  "What am I going to do?” she blubbered.

  "Oh, honey, he didn't mean you,” Mavis soothed.

  "He's exhausted and angry, so he's lashing out at Mavis and I and Harriet,” Beth said. “I'm sure he wasn't talking about you."

  "He's so angry,” Carla said, her tears slowing.

  "He needs you to take care of Randy. And to cook and shop for him,” Harriet reminded her. “I'm sure he didn't mean you. He was talking about the rest of the Loose Threads. It's me he's mad at. I could have warned him, and I didn't, and I told you not to. I'll make sure he understands that."

  Aunt Beth handed Carla a tissue. Mavis held her arms out.

  "Give me that baby. I'll take her up to the nursery and sit with her while you pull yourself together."

  Carla handed the now-sleeping baby to her, and Mavis climbed back up the servant's stairs.

  "Connie is up in the parlor with Wendy,” Lauren said as she came in from the dining room. “I told Sarah and Jenny the meeting was over, and they should leave."

  Robin followed her. “I'm going to go over to the hospital and see what I can find out about Neelie."

  "Good idea,” Harriet said. “Let us know if you hear anything that could help explain all this."

  Robin left the way she'd come, and Harriet watched her and Sarah and Jenny get into their cars and pull out of the driveway.

  Connie came down the back stairs with Wendy.

  "Mavis and I were talking upstairs. We were thinking it might be a good idea if Carla and the two babies come to my house for lunch and dinner and maybe even stay the night. Just to give Aiden time to cool down and come to his senses. I have a crib and high chair, and we can bring the portable crib from here."

  "That's not a bad idea,” Beth said. “What do you think?” she asked Harriet.

  "I agree. A little peace and quiet might do him some good. But what do I know? I thought keeping him in the dark about Neelie was a good idea."

  "Is that self-pity I hear?” Aunt Beth chided. “The boy is overwhelmed. Let's give him some space, let him get some rest and then see where we are."

  "I'll go up and pack,” Carla said in a small voice and stood up.

  Aunt Beth put her arm around the young woman's thin shoulders.

  "Don't worry, we'll get this sorted out. You're going to be fine. Aiden isn't going to put you out on the street. He was just taken by surprise with Neelie being here and all."

  "I'll go feed Randy,” Harriet said, and wen
t out the back door without waiting for agreement from anyone. She felt like she might vomit and didn't want to do it in front of her friends.

  She stopped as soon as she was out of sight of the kitchen, leaning against the back corner of the garage. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. She'd never had a man, or anyone else, for that matter, display such naked emotion in front of her, and it had shaken her to her core. And it had never occurred to her she might cause Carla to lose her job.

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  Chapter 14

  Harriet spent more time than she needed to feeding and playing with Randy. She wanted to give Mavis, Connie, Carla and the two babies time to load up and leave. When she returned to the kitchen, only Aunt Beth remained.

  "I figured you were waiting until everyone left,” Aunt Beth said. She was loading Aiden's dishwasher with cups from the aborted meeting. “What do you say we swing by Pins and Needles and see if we can schedule a room for Monday afternoon? We can pick up some children's fabric and make a couple of baby quilts for Joseph, since we can't work on our dog blocks yet."

  "I suppose,” Harriet said.

  "Would it help if we went by Tico's on the way home for some lunch?"

  Harriet forced a smile. “We could try it and find out."

  They chose several pre-printed panels each, large pieces of fabric anywhere from three-quarters to a full yard with an over-all image printed on it. For larger panels, a quilter could simply choose a backing fabric, layer the batting in and start the quilting process. The panels could also be made to look more original by adding a border of simple pieced blocks. Harriet and Beth each had large enough collections of fabric in their at-home stashes they didn't need to purchase more for the pieced blocks.

  "That's bizarre,” Marjory Swain said from her perch by the cash register when Aunt Beth finished telling her about the events at Aiden's house that morning. Harriet had gone to the back of the store where Marjory kept the larger spools of thread used on long-arm quilt machines. She didn't really need more thread, but she also didn't want to relive the ordeal through the telling. She brought her spools of thread to the counter as her aunt finished the tale.

  "Don't you worry,” Marjory said with a glance at Harriet. “It will sort itself out. These things always do."

  Harriet tried to smile.

  "Come on,” Aunt Beth said. “You'll feel better after you eat."

  The two women rode in silence for the few blocks it took to arrive at Tico's Tacos.

  "Hey, chiquitas,” Jorge greeted them as they came through the door. “Are you dining in or taking out today?"

  His warm smile touched Harriet.

  "We'll be staying,” Aunt Beth answered.

  Harriet was in front, but she was pretty sure Aunt Beth was raising her eyebrows or nodding her head or in some other way communicating silently to Jorge.

  "Right this way,” he said, and led them into the large private dining room. No one was at either of the two large picnic-style tables that sat in the center of the room.

  He left briefly, then returned with a basket of chips and a large stoneware bowl that contained three avocados, a tomato, a small cup of salsa and a lime. He emptied the bowl's contents onto the table and pulled a paring knife from the pocket of his apron.

  "So, what's the trouble, chiquita?” he asked Harriet as he began to peel the avocados.

  "There's no trouble."

  "I keep telling you—you are no good at lies. You know you'll feel better after you tell me. Besides, maybe I can help. It has been known to happen, you know."

  "Okay, fine,” Harriet said, and picked a chip out of the basket. “Do you want to hear about the unconscious woman we found, or would you like to go straight to Aiden's fit?"

  "How about you start at the beginning?” Jorge suggested as he continued creating the guacamole as they watched. “I got time."

  Harriet recited the events of the morning, concluding her story just as Jorge set the finished bowl of guacamole in front of her. She buried her chip in the chunky dip.

  "This is fabulous,” she said and closed her eyes.

  "Do you really think Aiden would leave a pregnant woman in Africa?” Jorge asked.

  "Well, not if he knew about it,” Aunt Beth said bluntly, “but the timing is such she would have gotten pregnant just before he left."

  "I don't believe it,” Jorge said. “Aiden is like a son to me, and I taught him and Julio better than that."

  Jorge's son Julio was an environmental lawyer in Seattle, and he and Aiden had been inseparable since kindergarten.

  His eyes flashed with anger. “I don't know who that woman is or whose baby she has, but it is not Aiden's. You can put money on that."

  "I should have known that,” Harriet said, tears welling in her eyes.

  "Now, chiquita,” Jorge said, his face softening. He handed her a clean napkin from the table. “We'll get this straightened out."

  "So far, we aren't getting anywhere,” Aunt Beth said, and dipped a chip into the guacamole. “Every time we turn around, we find another question."

  "Let me get you something to drink,” Jorge said, scooping the avocado and lime peels into the empty salsa container with one large hand. “Limonada?"

  They both nodded, and in a few minutes, he was back with three large glasses of freshly made lemonade.

  "Now,” he said, “back to our situation. That woman was in here last night, after all you quilters had come and gone. This time, she was with a different man."

  "What man?” Harriet asked.

  "A stranger,” Jorge replied. “A black man—someone I've never seen before. If he's from around here, he doesn't eat Mexican."

  "How did they seem?” Harriet asked. “Did they seem friendly?"

  "Did you hear anything they were talking about?” Aunt Beth asked.

  "I think they were arguing, but they didn't want anyone to hear. They were leaning toward each other—you know how people do. Their heads were close together. They stopped talking every time someone came near their table."

  "What makes you think they were arguing?"

  "Please, chiquita,” he said in an injured tone. “Give an old man some credit. I know arguing when I see it, even if they were trying to keep it quiet."

  "I wonder who he is,” Aunt Beth said, and took a sip of her lemonade.

  "He didn't have an accent like she did,” Jorge said. “I made a point of going by the table—you know, asking how their dinners were."

  "We're not convinced her accent is real,” Harriet said. “Mavis heard her yelling at someone in the grocery store, and she didn't have one."

  "What do you think is going on?” Jorge asked. “Did she come to town to try to scam Aiden? Surely she'd realize he'd know if he had fathered a baby."

  "We didn't,” Harriet pointed out. “Maybe she knew him in Africa and made some assumptions about a relationship he did or didn't have."

  "We're going to have to find out what Aiden knows,” Aunt Beth said. “If he knows this woman, maybe he can figure out what game she's playing. If he's never met her, it's a whole different ballgame."

  "Don't look at me,” Harriet said. “He's not speaking to me anytime soon."

  "We need to give him some time to cool down. That and time to rest. He'll come around.

  "Now,” Jorge said as he stood up. “What would you ladies like to eat?"

  Harriet had her favorite green enchiladas, and Aunt Beth went with a chicken tostada. They spoke only a few words while they ate.

  They were nearly finished when the door opened, and Jorge ushered Robin in.

  "Hi,” Harriet said. “What's up?"

  "I wish I were here to eat,” Robin replied, looking at the remains of the guacamole. “Unfortunately, I just left the hospital. Neelie Obote died."

  "How?” Aunt Beth asked.

  "From what?” Harriet asked at the same time.

  "Here, sit down,” Beth said and patted the bench beside her. “Start at the beginn
ing."

  Jorge returned with a glass of iced tea and a small plate of raw vegetables. He set both in front of Robin. The Loose Threads were frequent-enough customers he knew their preferences.

  "As you know, I went to the hospital after we all left Aiden's.” She picked up a carrot stick and took a bite. “No one would tell me anything, but that was to be expected. She was in the emergency room, and at first it seemed like everyone was hustling around. The ER was pretty quiet today.

  "After a while, it seemed like people weren't moving as fast. Then the doctor came out and spoke to me. He asked if I knew Neelie, and if I knew her next of kin. I explained how I knew her—or didn't know her, as it were. He's new, so he isn't one of the doctors we know. He didn't want to tell me what had happened, but he had no one else, and I think he got that I was going to wait there until someone told me something."

  "And?” Harriet prompted.

  "He said Neelie had been in a diabetic coma, and that she had passed away. He asked me if I knew anything about her management of her diabetes. I said no and asked him if there was something unusual about what had happened.

  "He wouldn't tell me, but his silence spoke volumes. We need to call Darcy and see if she's heard anything,” she concluded, referring to Darcy Lewis, a local criminalist and part-time Loose Threads member.

  "I think we're better off not knowing,” Harriet said. “I mean, she's a stranger, and it appears she was up to no good. It's sad that she died, and I don't know what that means regarding the baby, but all signs point to the fact she was attempting some sort of scam."

  "I'll call Mavis and Carla when we're done here,” Robin said. “There's probably no point in trying to call social services until Monday."

  "What do you think they'll do with the baby?” Harriet asked.

  "I think that will depend on whether they can figure out if she has relatives in Africa. If they can't find anyone for her, then I imagine she'll go into foster care here."

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  Chapter 15

  "By the way,” Robin said when she'd finished eating the plate of vegetables and a small bowl of guacamole Jorge had provided, “I called DeAnn to see how things are going."

  "I'll bet she is just over the moon,” said Beth with a smile.