Make Quilts Not War

by Arlene Sachitano

  She held her hand over one ear, blocking the sparkle of the diamonds as she turned her head from side to side, evaluating each option in turn.

  The doorbell rang, ending the debate.

  “Enjoy your night alone,” she called to Fred.

  She’d taken Scooter, her little dog, to Connie’s house for an overnight visit. Scooter had recovered dramatically after being rescued by Aiden from a hoarding home. He’d been well enough to leave the animal hospital several weeks ago but still required medication several times a day.

  Connie and her husband Rod had agreed to take him for an overnight visit so Harriet wouldn’t have to come home early to administer his nightly dose.

  She opened the front door to a short middle-aged man with gray hair. He was dressed in some sort of formal livery. Harriet wondered if Aiden had paid extra for the costume.

  “Ms. Truman?” he asked. “I’m Mr. Jones, your driver. Your car awaits.”

  “Let me get my coat,” she said and grabbed her black dress coat from the antique rack by the door.

  “May I pour you a glass of champagne?” Mr. Jones asked when Harriet was seated in the white leather passenger area of the limo. He’d picked up a chilled bottle from an ice bucket, wrapping it deftly with a white towel.

  “No, thank you, I’m good.” Harriet’s palms were beginning to sweat. She was happy that Aiden was making an effort, and excited to see what came next, but at the same time, she worried this whole limo-and-champagne routine was a little over-the-top.

  “Let me know if I can do anything to make your journey more enjoyable,” Mr. Jones said, and when no requests were forthcoming, he closed the door and got into the driver’s seat.

  If the limo was taking her anywhere in Foggy Point, it would be a short ride, Harriet thought. It soon became clear that Mr. Jones was driving a serpentine route around town, finally arriving at their destination precisely thirty minutes later.

  The limo came to a stop, and a moment later, Mr. Jones opened the door. Harriet recognized the location immediately. They were in Smugglers Cove at a restaurant owned by her friend Harold’s buddy James. Harold had brought her to the place when she’d first returned to Foggy Point.

  She had known from the moment Aiden asked her on this date that whatever he had planned would happen someplace where there would be a good chance someone she knew would bear witness. Foggy Point just wasn’t that big, and its selection of event worthy restaurants was limited.

  James not only owned the restaurant Aiden had chosen but was also the head chef. There would be at least one witness.

  Mr. Jones led Harriet from the parking lot to the door of the eatery, opening it and then handing her off to the hostess.

  “I hope you’re having a wonderful time,” the thin redheaded woman said with a smile. “Your table is ready.”

  She picked up a leather-bound menu and led Harriet to a table that overlooked the cove marina. Harriet tried to interpret the meaning of the single menu. Either Aiden was waiting at the table or, more likely, hadn’t arrived yet. Being a veterinarian, it wasn’t unusual for him to have to deal with last-minute emergencies.

  Her stomach clenched as the hostess seated her at an otherwise unoccupied table.

  The woman offered to bring her a drink, and Harriet asked for sparkling water with lemon. When fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of Aiden, a waiter—Joshua, he said—clad in black trousers and vest and a white open-necked shirt, brought a small white plate with thin-cut carrots and celery and several small pieces of cheese.

  “Compliments of Chef James,” he said as he set it in front of Harriet. “Can I bring you anything else?”

  “No, I’m good,” she mumbled. Anyone with eyes could see she wasn’t good, but Joshua left without saying anything.

  At thirty minutes, Joshua brought warm crusty Kalamata olive bread and fresh butter. Harriet went to the ladies room and splashed cold water on her face, hoping her absence from the table would cause Aiden to arrive but knowing in her heart that she was indulging in magical thinking.

  Forty-five minutes brought James to her table.

  “Hi,” he said. “Do you mind?” He pointed at the chair opposite hers.

  “Please,” she said, waving absently at the chair.

  “This is awkward,” he began.

  “Oh.” Harriet sat straighter. “Do you need this table?”

  “No, no, I didn’t mean to suggest…I’m sorry, what I meant to ask is, can I do anything? Call someone? Dr. Jalbert made the reservations, and I assume he sent the limo for you, which means you’re stuck here until he shows.”

  “You’re assuming he’s going to show,” Harriet said, her face flaming red.

  “I’m sure he’s just been detained at the animal hospital,” James offered.

  “And he’s alone, without a phone or anyone who could call for him?”

  “I’m sorry,” James said again, and looked down at his hands.

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “I didn’t bring my cell phone,” Harriet finally said.

  “Would you like to use mine?”

  “No. If he’s so busy he can’t call me, I’m not going to bother him.” A dark part of Harriet wondered if this had been the plan all along.

  “I can take you home, if you’d like,” James offered.

  “I can’t let you do that,” Harriet said. “You’ve got a restaurant to run. I’ll call my aunt or one of my friends. Do you mind if I sit here a few minutes to steel myself for the explanations?”

  “At least stay long enough to eat. I cooked a special beef dish just for you.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t possibly eat dinner.”

  “How about some Death by Chocolate?” he offered. “It might be just what you need.”

  Harriet sighed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. “Be right back.”

  True to his word, in less than five minutes, James came back with two dishes of the warm, dense chocolate cake.

  “I hope it’s okay that I’m joining you,” he said.

  “Thanks for not making me suffer through this alone.” She took a bite of cake.

  “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” James started.

  “Can we not talk about it?” Harriet took another bite of cake. “I’m going to have to go through all this until I’m ready to scream with the Loose Threads, and then I’ll still have Aiden to deal with whenever he surfaces. And frankly, at the moment, I can’t think of any excuse that’s going to make this okay.”

  “Can you taste the hint of chili in the cake,” James asked her with a crooked smile.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Chapter 5

  “If you don’t mind waiting until the dinner rush is over, I can take you back to my place,” James said, stabbing his fork into the last piece of cake on his plate. “Not for anything,” he added in a rush. “I mean, if you want to hide out for a while. This all might be easier to face in the morning, or next week.” He gave her his crooked half-smile.

  Harriet reached across the table and touched his hand; her own shook in spite of her effort to steady it.

  “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m afraid this won’t get easier with time. If I’m not home tonight, it will only make things worse. Besides, it’s not exactly the end of the world as we know it. I was stood up. It happens to people all the time, maybe without quite this spectacular of a setup but all the time, nonetheless. If you don’t mind, I’d just like to sit here a few more minutes and then call a cab.”

  “At least let me have someone drive you,” James pleaded. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  “Thanks, but I think an anonymous taxi is what I need.”

  “You do realize that nothing’s anonymous in Foggy Point, don’t you?”

  “You’re right, but I don’t know the taxi guy yet. And thanks again for this.” She pointed at her now-empty dessert plate.

  “It was the least I
could do. I would have never done this to you or anyone else, but somehow, since it happened at my place, I feel like a coconspirator or something.”

  “You’ve been wonderful,” Harriet said and looked at him. “I mean it. This could have been so much worse if you weren’t here trying to make me feel like less of a loser.”

  “Well, the next time the good doctor calls for a reservation, he’s getting a table by the kitchen door.”

  Harriet looked toward the kitchen.

  “You don’t have a table by the kitchen door.”

  “I’ll set one up just for him,” James said and looked at Harriet. “Was that a smile?”

  She tried to look serious but failed and ended up laughing.

  “See, you have made it better.”

  The hostess came in their direction, hovering a discreet distance away and clutching a stack of menus to her chest.

  “I think you’re needed,” Harriet said with a nod to the hostess. “I’m going to go powder my nose, and then, if you could call the taxi, I’ll be out of here.”

  “As you wish.” James stood. “Call me if you need anything.”

  Harriet went to the restroom and, after using the facilities, splashed her face with cold water again. She was not looking forward to the next hour. If she didn’t call her aunt and Lauren by midnight, they would call her, so there was no getting around it. They’d made it seem like it was up to her, but she knew they expected a report.

  She looked at her face in the mirror. She was pale, with two unnaturally bright spots high on her cheeks. Tears came unbidden to her eyes. She’d been a fool to agree to such a big date, given how things had been between her and Aiden these last two months. She should have known. She’d never make a mistake like this again. She sighed. There was no more stalling.

  She went back out into the restaurant.

  “Harriet,” a soft female voice called to her from just outside the restroom door.

  “Carla?” Harriet said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Aiden’s not coming,” the young woman said, looking everywhere but at her.

  “Yeah, I figured that out.”

  “I came to get you,” Carla continued. “I’m sorry, I would have been here sooner, but I had to take Wendy to Connie’s house first.” She referred to her toddler.

  “Oh, great, so Connie knows already?” Harriet said.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I didn’t think I should bring Wendy with me this late.”

  “No. No, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have come at all. I’ve got a taxi coming.”

  “I told the lady at the front that I was here to get you, and she went to the kitchen and talked to the guy, so I think he didn’t call the taxi.”

  “Aiden sent you to get me?” Harriet said a little too loud.

  Carla looked down.

  “Can we talk outside?” she murmured.

  Harriet looked around and realized that people were staring at her. She turned and went to the door, brushing past the hostess before she could hold it for her. She heard Carla apologize to the woman before following her outside.

  “If Aiden didn’t send you, why are you here?” Harriet asked as she rounded on Carla. “No offense, I guess I’m glad you’re here. What I meant to say is, why didn’t Aiden send you?”

  “Aiden has his hands full—”

  “Aiden always has his hands full,” Harriet yelled. “He can’t ever seem to pick up the phone and tell me himself that he won’t be coming. He could even text me. Or he could have called James.”

  Carla stared blankly at her.

  “James owns this place. The point is, I’m important enough for Aiden to send a limo to bring me here, just not quite important enough for him to call when he decides to call it all off. Or maybe it was the plan all along. If he wanted to make it clear we’re not going to make it as a couple, this did it.”

  “It’s not like that,” Carla said, her face turning red. “He wanted to be here.”

  “Now you’re going to defend him?”

  “No, I’m not defending him, but you don’t understand.” Carla hit the button on her key fob, and the doors to her car unlocked. Harriet went around to the passenger side and got in. Carla joined her and started the car.

  “He couldn’t come,” she said. She left the car in park. “He was getting ready for your dinner. He’d laid a tuxedo out on his bed and was polishing his shoes when Michelle called—”

  “Of course it would be Michelle. She’s been the problem all along.”

  “She’s in the hospital.”

  “What?” Harriet sank back into her seat, her fury deflated. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure anyone knows for sure, but Aiden was getting ready and his cell phone rang and Michelle said she was at the end of his driveway and she said goodbye and he ran out and went to her car and she was unconscious. He called nine-one-one and they came and got her. He said there was an empty prescription bottle on the floor of the car. He’s at the hospital.”

  “That’s all?” Harriet asked. “No explanation as to why she did this?”

  “Wendy and I went out to wait with him for the ambulance, and she was moaning and talking, but she didn’t make any sense. When they were gone, I went back in the house and gave Wendy her dinner, and when I took her upstairs to get her pajamas, I saw his tuxedo and realized you were waiting for him. I called your house, and when you didn’t answer, I was going to call your aunt, but I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

  “Thank you for that,” Harriet told her.

  Carla turned her face away and continued.

  “I went into his office and looked at his scratch paper. He has this big tablet on his desk, and he writes notes about everything he does. There were three different restaurants listed; I got lucky on the second call.”

  “Exactly what did you say to the restaurant?”

  “I told them the truth,” she said. “I said I was trying to find my friend, who was waiting for her date, and that he had been called away on a family emergency.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you. I really do appreciate you coming and getting me. And I’m sorry Michelle is in the hospital. I don’t like the woman, but she’s obviously disturbed if she staged a suicide attempt in her brother’s driveway.”

  “She really did take the pills,” Carla protested.

  “I know. I’m sure she did. It’s just that she did it in such a way there was no chance she wouldn’t be found before it was too late. She made sure Aiden was home and nearby before she took the pills, didn’t she?”

  “I guess so,” Carla said. “That’s really sick, isn’t it.”

  “Indeed, it is,” Harriet agreed.

  Carla drove her home in silence.

  “You want to come in for a cup of tea?” she asked when Carla had parked.

  Carla hesitated and then agreed.

  “I guess Connie won’t mind a few more minutes.”

  “I’m sure whatever time you arrive, you’re going to have to pry Wendy out of Rod and Connie’s clutches.”

  “I’ll start the water,” Carla said and headed for the kitchen.

  “I’ll get the cups and tea,” Harriet said and followed her.

  Chapter 6

  Harriet sighed for the third time, and Carla looked at her through the curtain of dark bangs that skimmed her eyebrows. Neither woman wanted to reopen the wound that if not yet healing was at least not bleeding as profusely, so they sat in Harriet’s yellow kitchen, hands wrapped around mugs of tea, steeling themselves for what was to come; whatever that turned out to be.

  A soft knock sounded on the quilt studio’s exterior door, followed by the noise of the door opening.

  “Honey, are you home?” called out Mavis.

  “We’re in the kitchen,” Carla replied immediately.

  Harriet smiled to herself. Carla knew her too well; she probably thought Harriet would try to pretend she wasn’t there, but Mavis would have seen
Carla’s car and know they were inside.

  Mavis came through the connecting door, followed by Connie and Aunt Beth. Connie busied herself dumping the hot water from the kettle and refilling it before setting it on the stove to heat. Aunt Beth set her purse on the counter and started digging in the cupboards for mugs and tea. Mavis went to Harriet, sat down in the chair beside her and enclosed the younger woman in her arms. Carla got up quietly and drifted over to the sink.

  “Grandpa Rod has Wendy tucked in,” Connie told her in a quiet tone

  “Why don’t you let her spend the night with us so you can go back to Aiden’s to see what you can find out about Michelle? We’ll take her out for pancakes and drop her back by around eleven, if that works for you.”

  “She’ll be thrilled,” Carla replied in a hushed voice. “Thank you.”

  “You know we’ll be as thrilled as she is to have her stay over.”

  “Should I go by the hospital?” Carla wondered.

  “No,” Beth interjected. “Maybe you could call Aiden on his cell phone. Ask if there’s anything you can do. There’s no need to draw attention to the fact you went racing out into the night to clean up his…whatever this is.” She gestured toward Harriet.

  “Let us know if you find anything out,” Connie added.

  Carla quietly slipped into the studio then left the house.

  Tears slid down Harriet’s hot cheeks. Aunt Beth went to the half-bath and got a washcloth from the cabinet, wetting it with cold water before returning to the kitchen and handing it to her.

  “Here,” she said. “Wipe your face and pull yourself together, and let’s see if we can make any sense out of this mess.”

  Harriet took the cloth, but she couldn’t see how a person made any sense out of being set up and humiliated.

  “Carla only told us she had to go rescue you because Aiden had been called away on a Michelle emergency,” Connie said, giving her a starting point to grab on to.

  Harriet was pretty sure Carla had told them exactly what she’d told her, but she appreciated her friend’s efforts to help her regain control of the situation.