She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the room when she heard a noise in the hallway. She knew Mavis would worry if she didn't return, so she got up and headed back to the vestibule.
"Calm down,” she heard a male voice say from an open doorway. She flattened against the wall and inched closer to the source of the sound.
"You don't get it,” Michelle said, her words broken by sobs.
"So, tell me,” Aiden said. “I get that Mom was out of money. I don't understand it, but I get it. But you're a lawyer; your husband is an environmental scientist. You must make plenty of money between you."
"It's simple, really. You see, it turns out that it doesn't matter how much money you make, it's all about how much you spend."
"So stop spending so much."
"Stop spending so much,” she mimicked in a snotty little-girl voice. “How am I supposed to do that? You tell me how to stop spending. Do I take the girls out of the only school they've ever known? Or do I let them come home alone after school and sit around and watch television all night? Or should I resign from the club, so we can all get fat and die of heart disease? Are you suggesting I can go to my job in one of the most prestigious law firms in Seattle in thrift store clothes? Take my clients to lunch in a used Toyota?” She started to sob again.
"Stop crying,” Aiden said. “I told you I'd take care of it. Just give me another week. The bank needs to process the paperwork. Then we'll both have all the money we could ever need."
Harriet stepped away from the wall and went back to the entry hall. She'd heard enough.
Harold had arrived while she was gone.
"Harriet,” he said when she came back into the foyer. “I'm sorry to be seeing you under such unfortunate circumstances."
"It's very sad,” she said. “I suppose we all expect to bury our parents someday, but I think we hope it will be when we and they are all very old and that our parents will have gone gently in the night."
"It has been quite a shock for the family,” Harold said. “Say, I spoke to James earlier. He said he's trying a new ‘Death by Chocolate’ dessert recipe and suggested we might come by and try it out. I'll need to make an appearance at the coffee the church ladies are hosting after the burial, but then maybe we could slip away for some dessert and coffee. If you think it's inappropriate, considering why we're here, I'll understand, and we can do it some other time."
"No, I think it's a fine idea. I just need to get a project from one of the other people. It was damaged at the quilt show, and I need to help with the repair."
"I'll wait to hear from you, then,” he said, and pantomimed tipping a hat. Then he turned to speak to Bertrand and his wife.
She looked around the room and located the Loose Threads.
"There you are,” Mavis said as she joined them. “Jenny just went to the ladies room to try to find you. It's about time to go in and get a seat."
The carved wooden pews were filling up. Lauren and DeAnn were holding a space for the group. Harriet filed in between Mavis and Jenny, who had returned, and sat down on the hard wooden seat.
The pews were adorned with clusters of cream-colored lilies and pale yellow roses. Large baskets of hothouse azaleas, hydrangeas and mixed bouquets of white chrysanthemums, baby's breath and green sword fern filled the area behind Avanell's closed casket. Every business and association in Foggy Point and beyond must have sent an offering.
An ornately carved oak table at the back of the chapel held a basket that was overflowing with condolence cards. A matching basket held envelopes and cash. A small sign noted that donations would go to Avanell's scholarship fund for deserving local students.
The chaplain came in, and a hush fell over the group. Sarah Ness rose and went to the front of the church. Harriet wasn't sure why she was surprised. Being annoying didn't preclude the possibility of having a beautiful voice.
Sarah sang a moving rendition of “Take Me Home to Jesus” and sat back down. The chaplain read several Psalms then introduced Marcel, who delivered a short eulogy. Sarah sang “Amazing Grace,” and it was over.
People were offered the option of filing by the closed casket and about half did. Marcel announced from the back of the room that everyone was invited to join the family in the cemetery behind the church for the graveside portion of the service.
A fine mist had been falling earlier but had ended sometime during the service. The funeral attendees exited the church into a pale sunlit afternoon. The cemetery was separated from the church by a copse of trees. Pea gravel on the path crunched under Harriet's feet as she walked with Mavis through the trees, up a small rise and into the grassy burial area.
A blue canopy with white chairs underneath had been erected at the far side of the lawn, a mound of earth covered with sheets of Astroturf just beyond the seating area. The first row of chairs surrounded a large rectangular hole in the ground. The family were already seating themselves when she and Mavis arrived.
"If it's okay with you, I think I'll stand at the back,” she said.
"I know this is hard for you,” Mavis said. “You do what you need to do."
Harriet stood behind the last row of chairs. Darcy came over and joined her.
"It's really sad, you know? My mom used to work at The Vitamin Factory when I was in middle school. Avanell had a deal where employee's kids could come to the factory and work on their homework in the breakroom. She hired teenagers to act as tutors. They got scholarship money, and we kept out of trouble. Avanell would buy healthy snacks for us, too. She was just a cool lady."
"Has there been any progress on her case?"
"Not really."
Before she could say more, Michelle left the front row and stormed down the short aisle.
"What are they waiting for?” she demanded of Darcy. She glared at Harriet and strode down the path toward the chapel.
"What is her deal?” Harriet asked. “I know I found her mother, but she gets ruder every time I see her. I'm sure she's upset about her mom, but it seems to be more than that where I'm concerned."
"According to Officer Nguyen, she claims Avanell stayed late at work to finish binding her quilt so she could get it to you for the show. If you believe the burglary theory, and Michelle does, then it follows that if Avanell hadn't been at work finishing her quilt she wouldn't have been there when the thieves arrived. She thinks her mom stayed at her office to finish it because she was almost done, and her office was closer to your place than her home was."
"She wasn't working on her quilt that night,” Harriet corrected. “Aiden already had her quilt. In fact, her quilt was at the dry cleaners Wednesday.” She related to Darcy how Aiden had used the quilt and the resulting repair and cleaning.
"That's really weird. Michelle obviously wasn't here, so she'd have no direct knowledge of what happened,” Darcy said. “I wonder why she thought Avanell was stitching."
"Her pincushion and some of the backing and binding scraps were in her office. Avanell did work on her quilt in her office Tuesday. Maybe Michelle just assumed since the sewing stuff was in the office, Avanell must have been working on it on Wednesday.” Harriet worried, too late, that Darcy might wonder how she would know that, but Darcy didn't seem to notice.
"In fact, it probably doesn't matter what she was or wasn't doing at work. I don't believe it was a random robbery—Foggy Point just doesn't have this type of crime. We're not big enough to attract the kind of people who plan this type theft. We have our share of drug problems down by the docks, but those people don't usually stray more than a half-dozen blocks in each direction. If they're stealing to feed a habit, they aren't doing it in Foggy Point."
"Still, it's kind of weird she's telling people Avanell was sewing. One of the factory workers told me Avanell often worked packing vitamins to save on paying overtime."
"Maybe Michelle doesn't want people to know about Avanell's financial difficulties."
"Was Avanell having money trouble?"
"I'm sorry, I've said too m
uch already."
A short man in a dark suit came out of the trees and went up the aisle. He spoke in hushed tones to Avanell's family. Bertrand, Marcel and Aiden got up and followed the man back to the chapel. A red-faced Michelle passed them at the clearing.
"The tractor that is supposed to pull Momma's casket up here broke down,” she said loudly enough for the group to hear. “They are going to have to carry her up.” She plopped in her chair in a distinctly unladylike manner.
The crowd was growing restless by the time Harriet spotted the casket, carried by Avanell's sons, her brother and three men from the funeral home. The chaplain followed, and began a prayer as soon as the casket was in place at the front of the group of mourners.
Avanell was lowered into the ground, and family members each rose and one by one threw either a single rose or a handful of dirt on the casket. Harriet saw Mavis dab at her eyes with a tissue. She looked away and caught a brief flash of motion at the tree line.
She turned and surveyed it. Misty stood beside the trunk of a large maple.
"I'm going to go find something to drink,” Harriet said and rattled the bottle of pain pills that were in her pocket. She turned toward the church, and Darcy drifted over to a group of women Harriet didn't recognize.
Harriet circled back and moved silently toward the path and the tree beyond.
"Misty,” she whispered. Then, when she was away from the group, she said it again louder. “Misty? It's okay if you came to Avanell's funeral. Can I talk to you? I can help.” She kept talking. The woman had to be on the other side of the tree. “I have some fabric at my house for your baby's quilt. And I can help you get your medicine."
"I don't need medicine” came from behind the tree.
"I can help you make a quilt for your baby.” She tried to sound soothing. “You must have liked Avanell. I know she liked you."
"She said Tony shouldn't fire me,” Misty said. “She said I wasn't stealing.” She began to sing. “Hush, little baby, don't say a word..."
"Misty, did you go back to the factory after Tony fired you?"
"Mama's gonna buy you a mockin'bird..."
"Misty, this is real important. Were you at the factory when Avanell got hurt?"
Misty's eyes got big, and she started making a noise that sounded like hum-mum, repeated over and over. She turned and ran down the path into the woods.
Harriet debated following but didn't want to draw attention to the woman. She returned to the mourners.
"How are you holding up, honey?” Mavis asked.
"My head hurts, but no worse than it did this morning."
"If you want to leave, just say the word."
"I sort of told Harold I would go get coffee with him after this. I told him I had to get Lauren's quilt first."
"I can get the quilt, but are you sure you should be going out?"
"He promised me Death by Chocolate."
"What on earth is that? It sounds dangerous."
"I hope so. It's a dessert experiment by his friend James, the chef."
"Let's go eat our cookie and drink some tea and then you can get on to your ‘chocolate death’ or whatever it is."
The Loose Threads reassembled and returned as a group to the church reception. The tea was weak and the cookies doughy, but it was a kind gesture by the women of Avanell's congregation. Lauren had been one of the drivers, so she got the quilt from her trunk and brought it in to Harriet.
"Here,” she said and thrust it into Harriet's hands. “When can I get it back?"
Harold chose that moment to join them. “Do you need more time?” he asked.
"Just let me put this in the car,” she told him then turned to Lauren. “I should have it done sometime this evening. I'll have to see how much area has to be done before I can be more specific. I'll call you when I get it on the machine."
Lauren walked away without so much as a fare-thee-well. Harriet hadn't expected a thank-you but the woman could at least have been civil.
Lauren reminded her of a girl named Jeanne she'd gone to school with when she'd been dropped here in junior high. Harriet knew now that Jeanne had simply been protecting her territory—she had the other girls in their class convinced she was the most sophisticated, cutting-edge seventh grader Foggy Point had ever seen. She'd studied French the whole summer prior, and she would break into the language whenever a cute boy was in sight.
On her first day, Harriet made the mistake of responding to one of her comments, also in French. It was automatic. She hadn't done it on purpose. She hadn't been there long enough to realize that French was reserved for Jeanne and the boys, and no one else. Jeanne never spoke to her again, and for the rest of the year, no other girls did, either, if Jeanne was in the room.
Her problem with Lauren was that she hadn't done anything to the woman. There was no reason for her to be the focus of Lauren's anger. She hadn't destroyed anything. Lauren should be grateful she had been at the show and able to bring the damaged quilt back right away. She was going to point that out when Lauren came to pick it up.
"Here, honey, I'll take that,” Mavis said when Lauren was out of earshot. “You know you shouldn't be working, with your head and all."
"Is something wrong?” Harold asked.
"Nothing a little chocolate won't help,” Harriet replied.
"I'll go get the car and pull it up front."
He left, and she saw Aiden standing across the room, picking at a cookie. She walked over to his side.
"I'm really sorry about your mother,” she said.
Tears filled his pale eyes. “It really sucks,” he said.
Her heart went out to him, but she couldn't help but wonder just how far a brother would go to help his sister.
"You want me to get a movie and bring it over to Mavis's later?"
She didn't reply. Her pulse raced as she rapidly tried out and then rejected methods of ditching Harold. Could she drop to the floor in a fake faint? No, they might try to take her to the hospital. She couldn't plead a headache; she'd already said chocolate would help her headache. Her head throbbed.
"What?” he asked. “You have a hot date or something?"
"I have to fix Lauren's quilt,” she said. She saw Harold's El Dorado pull up in front of the fellowship hall. Aiden's gaze followed hers.
"Is he waiting for you?"
"He asked me to go for coffee, and I said yes. His friend is a chef and is making a special dessert."
"You sound like you know the guy. Have you been out with him before?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, we went to dinner."
"The Chamber meeting, right?” he said.
"No, dinner."
"So ... what? You're dating Harold?"
She could see the disbelief in his eyes.
She put her hand on his arm. “It's just coffee."
He was still staring at her when she turned, walked out the front door and got into Harold's waiting car.
"Is the boy all right?” Harold asked.
"He's upset about his mother. Do you have any idea what form Death by Chocolate takes?
"Let's go find out,” he said, and turned his car toward Smuggler's Cove.
Chapter Twenty-four
The dessert experiment turned out to be a smashing success. The concoction was a layered affair; the main sections were somewhere between really rich cake and a dark chocolate fudge, with the filling layers a heavy chocolate ganache. James drizzled raspberry sauce onto the chilled plates before arranging the perfect chocolate wedges on top.
"That was a nice service. Didn't you think?” Harold said when they had finished the dessert and were sipping cups of dark coffee.
"I don't think it's possible to have a nice funeral service. Maybe if you die at home at the age of a hundred and five. But I'll bet your children are still sad."
"Your children will be in their eighties by then, and their sadness will have more to do with what implications your death has for their own mortality
."
Harriet actually smiled at this. “Good point."
"Of course, there won't be any children at my funeral,” Harold said.
"Mine, either, it would seem.” She sighed. She tried not to think about Steve, but it was impossible. They had made plans for a family. Of course, that, too, had been a lie. He knew he wouldn't live to have children, and if he did he had a fifty percent chance of passing on his disease to any offspring.
No, there weren't children in her future.
"Did I say something to upset you,” Harold asked and took her hand across the table.
She pulled it away. “No, it's not you. It's been a hard day. Would you mind if we went home now?"
He glanced at his watch.
James came to the table before Harold got up.
"How did you like it?” he asked.
"It was wonderful,” Harriet said. “And believe me, I know my chocolate."
"Okay, Miss Expert, what's your favorite chocolate candy."
"Are we talking high-end or grocery store?"
"Your choice."
"High-end, I like Ethyl M's, but they're hard to find here. In the northwest, I like Moonstruck and Dagoba."
He looked at Harold. “The woman has taste."
"Grocery store, I go for Lindor Balls, the blue wrapper. Seattle Chocolates, pink wrapper, are good when you can find them, too."
"You come here any time you need a chocolate fix.” James put his hands up in a gesture of rejection. “Tonight's on me,” he said as Harold went for his wallet.
"Thank you, this was a perfect end to a hard day,” Harriet told him.
Chapter Twenty-five
Harold delivered her to Mavis's cottage. He opened the car door and escorted her to the small front porch. To her relief, he rubbed his hand on her back, urged her to get some rest and left.
"That you?” Mavis called from the kitchen.
"Yes,” Harriet said and wandered in to join her. Mavis was pulling a baked chicken from the oven.
"I cooked a bird so we could have an early supper, but I'm afraid I can't stay here and eat with you. My daughter-in-law called and needs me to watch the baby so she can go to a class she's teaching. My son was going to do it, but he's stuck at work."
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