"We're going to wait a few more minutes for a couple of people to arrive. You can come into the kitchen and get something to drink and have a treat before we start."
The girls got up as one and headed toward the food. Marjory stopped Harriet before she left the big room.
"I realized as I was saying it that I'm being a little presumptuous. Beth has always done the quilting for this project, but you are under no obligation to continue to do so."
"Don't give it another thought. Of course, I'll do their quilts.” She paused. For as long as I'm here, she thought. “Does that girl with the black hair work at the Vitamin Factory?"
"Yes, she does. She had her baby a couple of years ago, but she's been coming back and helping the others. Lately, she's been bringing another girl with her-Misty, I think, is her name. I've been stalling to give Misty time to get here. I put peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches and milk out with the cookies. Misty's one who needs to eat as much as she needs to stitch."
Harriet went into the kitchen.
"Carla?” she said. “Hi, I'm Harriet. We met the other day. I was having lunch with Mrs. Jalbert.” Carla's gaze was so firmly downcast Harriet had to crook her neck to make eye contact. Her body language screamed whipped puppy and made Harriet wonder what sort of abuse had left her like this-nobody this painfully shy came from a happy loving home.
Carla finally looked up. “Yeah, that was awful, what happened to Miz Avanell.” With her boarding school education, Harriet wasn't sure she'd ever get used to the West Coast custom of using first names, even in business situations. After all these years, it was still uncomfortable to her, even with the addition of “Miz."
"Yes, it was.” Harriet wasn't sure how widely known it was that she'd been the one to find Avanell, and decided now wasn't the time to share that piece of news. “She told me she was working overtime in shipping. Did she do that often?"
Carla looked at her feet. She hesitated so long, Harriet wondered if she was going to answer.
"She didn't used to, but lately, yeah."
"What made her start?"
"I don't know. It's crazy, but we been shipping vitamins hot and heavy for a couple years. We usually hire temps at the end of the month to try to make our goals. Then all of a sudden, they can't afford to hire temps no more. Tony said they lost money when we had a recall a couple months ago. He said we shipped bad product. They fired our lead guy, Mack, and since then, Miz Avanell helps us with the shipping after regular hours. It just seems weird."
"What seems weird?” Harriet asked, even though she could think of several possibilities.
"I been working there since I was in high school. One time back then we got a bad batch of potassium tablets. Something had leaked into the package and ruined them. Thousands of ‘em. Miz Avanell told us to throw ‘em all out. She said they was so cheap it wasn't worth the stamps to mail ‘em back. We threw ‘em out and just ordered replacements. Nobody got fired or nothing. It's hard to believe prices would have changed that much in a few years."
"That does sound strange."
Carla cast a furtive glance toward the door. “I wish Misty would get here,” she said.
"Isn't she the girl who was fired last week?” Harriet asked.
"Yeah, and now I can't find her."
"What do you mean?"
"She left Monday. Miz Avanell sent the sheriff home, but Mr. Tony still fired her. I talked to her Tuesday after work and she was talking about coming back to get something she left at work. I told her I didn't think that was such a good idea, but she wouldn't listen. And now I can't find her.” She glanced at the clock and sighed. It was a quarter after seven.
"Thanks,” Harriet said.
Carla turned and went back into the classroom.
"I'm going to take off,” Harriet told Marjory. “I'll come next week."
"Don't worry. You get your studio back together and take care of yourself a little. Then you can worry about charity work."
"Thanks.” She gathered her empty bags and went out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Aiden was leaning on the windowsill of the print shop next door to Pins and Needles. He stood up and fell into step with Harriet. When she clicked the doorlock on the Honda, he opened the door. She tossed the bags in, and he shut the door again.
"My car is down the block,” he said. “That is, if you haven't changed your mind."
"No, if you're willing to get in a small enclosed space with the woman who clocked you with a sprinkler, how can I refuse? And, frankly, my house is a little depressing right now."
"Come on, then."
He turned. She was ready for his ground-eating pace this time and matched him stride for stride. He held open the passenger door on his rental car, and she climbed in. She wondered what she was doing driving off into the night with this unusual young man.
"Anywhere you want to go?” he asked.
She had mixed feelings about being back in Foggy Point. Without her time here with Aunt Beth she would have had no happy memories of childhood, but dropping in and out of a small community several times had not been without its own problems. The last time she left she'd promised herself it was for the last time.
"Not really. As long as it isn't my trashed studio, I'm good."
"Okay.” He pulled onto Main Street and headed for the strait. The route took them out of downtown Foggy Point and through an industrial section that included an area of docks. Foggy Point was not by any measure a major shipping port, but ships did dock; and that made this the kind of place you wouldn't want to get a flat tire in if you were alone.
Beyond the docks, the terrain changed to rocky beaches.
"You care if we stop?” Aiden asked.
"Whatever you want is fine."
"Don't ever say that to a guy,” he said, but Harriet could tell by the flatness in his voice his heart wasn't into teasing tonight.
He pulled off the road at a wide spot and got out of the car. She followed, and after she shut her door, it was completely dark. Aiden pulled a mini-Maglite from his pocket; it cast a small circle of light.
"Here, give me your hand,” he said and grabbed it in his free one. “Be careful,” he added.
Good advice, she thought, and once again wondered what she was doing walking on an isolated beach with a man she'd only met two days ago, and who was at least ten years her junior.
He led her to a large flat rock that stuck out toward the water.
"Here, put your foot up here.” He pointed the light onto a step-like flat area on the rock. He lit the next one and the next-the rock had three natural steps leading to a broad flat ledge. She sat on the ledge and scooted to her left to make room for him. In two strides, he was beside her, sitting close enough she could feel the heat of his body in sharp contrast to the cool rock.
He turned the light off. Her eyes adjusted, and in the moonlight, she could see the expanse of the Strait of Juan de Fuca in front of her.
"This is amazing,” she said.
"I've always come here when I needed to think, or to get away from everyone."
"I've never been here. I didn't even know this rock existed."
"My dad used to bring me here when I was little. It's a good spot to sit and fish. And then, later, I would ride my bike here.” He was silent for a long moment. “I just can't believe she's gone now, too,” he said. His voice sounded small and far away.
Harriet patted his arm. She wasn't good at this sort of thing. He leaned forward, elbows on knees. She was pretty sure he was crying, but his long hair concealed his face. She rubbed her hand in slow circles across the hard muscles of his back. They sat like that until he had control of his emotions again.