"What happened? From what I understand listening to the talk around the clinic, the Loose Threads always produce the quilt chosen to be used in the raffle."
"In the past, there were no rules as to what sort of quilts could be donated. Aunt Beth said the last few years the Threads have used Foggy Point as their theme. This year the auction committee decided that since the event is benefiting dog adoption, the quilts should reflect that topic.
"Mavis and Connie tried to argue they should be making quilts that had the greatest value to the raffle ticket-buying public, but they didn't get anywhere with that, and now we're all stuck with the dog theme."
"I'm sure you ladies will come up with something wonderful,” he said with a smile. He reached across the table and took both her hands in his. “I'm glad we're done fighting,” he added, and Harriet raised her left eyebrow but kept her mouth shut. “I've missed you."
"I missed you, too,” she said. She knew they probably looked like two lovesick teenagers staring into each other's eyes, but for once, she didn't care.
They were interrupted when Joseph Marston passed carrying a ceramic cup of coffee, a teaspoon and three packets of raw sugar. He sat down at the next table. Neither of them had noticed him come in nor had he seemed to see them.
"Hey, Joe,” Harriet said as she stood and took the two steps to his table. The dark smudges under his eyes were darker, if that was possible. He nervously tapped the spoon on the tabletop.
"Oh, hi, Harriet,” he said absently. “I didn't see you. Thanks again for working on those quilts."
His eyes were red-rimmed, and it was obvious quilts were the last thing on his mind.
"Is everything okay?” she asked him. “You seem upset."
"I'm fine,” he said in a loud voice, and then repeated it in a softer tone. “I'm fine. Things are just a little hectic at the agency."
Aiden had started to stand when Joseph had raised his voice, but Harriet glanced at him and gave her head a barely perceptible shake. He eased back down but continued to watch Joseph intently.
"Do you have a lot of adoptions in progress?"
"No, no more than usual. I told you, everything is fine."
"Could I ask you a question about DeAnn's child?"
"You can ask, but I probably can't answer-you know, confidentiality."
"I just wondered where the child is from."
"What do you mean, where she's from? I know DeAnn told you-she's from the orphanage in Uganda. I heard you all talking about it when I was eating my cake the other day. What difference does it make, anyway? She's here now."
Harriet was surprised by his aggressive tone. She didn't know Joseph well, but everything DeAnn had said about him had led her to believe he was meek almost to the point of ineffectiveness.
"It's just that she seems to be having trouble settling in."
"And what? You thought if she was from a different country that would explain it? The adoption process is rough on kids, no matter how much you try to handle them with kid gloves. We're ripping them out of a familiar situation, however grim, and taking them halfway around the world and placing them with strangers who don't look like them or talk like them. The surprise isn't that they start crying. It's that they ever stop."
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't even say it. I know, you were just trying to help.” He said this last bit in a mocking tone.
She had planned on asking him a few questions about the quilt Iloai had but could see she wasn't going to get any useful information out of Joseph Marston-not tonight, anyway.
"It was nice to see you again,” she said in a failed attempt at civility.
She stepped back to the table and slid into her chair, leaning toward Aiden. He leaned in to meet her.
"That was weird,” she whispered. “I'll tell you when we leave."
They drank their cider, making small talk as they finished. Harriet kept an eye on Joseph. He fidgeted with his teaspoon then tore his empty sugar packets to shreds. He took a cell phone from his pocket, flipped it open and dialed, then slammed it shut without completing the call.
"He's sure acting like a dog with a bad case of fleas,” Aiden commented. “Who is he, anyway?"
"He's the social worker at Little Lamb. He handled DeAnn's adoption,” Harriet murmured.
"Seems like a nervous little twit."
"Something's bothering him. Let's go,” she said.
Aiden took their cups and set them in the gray tub on the collection cart then followed Harriet to the door, his arm draped protectively across her shoulders. Once they were in his car, she recounted her interaction with Joseph Marston.
"It was all rather strange,” she said. “Just a couple of days ago, he was at the shower waxing poetic about children and adoptive parents. Today, not so much."
"Maybe you just caught him at a bad time. As you're well aware, every job comes with its own unique stresses."
"I suppose, but I still think it was weird."
"Shall we go get your car?"
Mavis's Town Car was parked in Harriet's driveway, and the lights were on in her studio when she pulled in. She parked and went to the door. It opened before she'd even reached for the knob.
"So?” Mavis said as she stepped aside to let Harriet into her own house.
Aunt Beth was sitting in one of the wingback chairs, a cup of tea balanced on her knee. Mavis settled into the other chair, leaving Harriet to pull a wheeled chair over from her work area.
"So what?” she teased.
"Are we back to normal?” Mavis pressed.
"After your little ‘chat,’ did you expect anything less?” Harriet asked with a smile.
"Now that my boys are getting settled, I'm a little rusty, but I guess I got the job done, huh?"
"'Get over yourself’ I think was the phrase."
"I didn't put it quite that way, honey, but that was the general idea."
"Well, he got the message, and frankly, I think if he hadn't been so stressed over his dogs, he would have figured it out himself eventually."
"Never pays to take that kind of chance.” Mavis looked at Beth. “Remember Eula Jackson?"
"Of course."
The two older women nodded in agreement about Eula, whoever she was. After a moment's silence didn't produce additional information, Harriet finally spoke.
"Okay, I give-who was Eula Jackson, and what happened to her?"
"Eula was dating Ollie Swenson, and they had a misunderstanding about where they were supposed to meet for dinner, and they each waited all night at a different location, and they both were mad, and neither one was willing to approach the other, and they never spoke again,” Mavis recounted.
"I take it she ended up a lonely old spinster?” Harriet prompted.
"No, she left town with the Fuller Brush man. They got married and had four daughters. If I'm not mistaken, they still live in Angel Harbor,” Aunt Beth said.
"And Ollie joined the navy and never came back. We heard he settled in Montana with a woman he met in San Diego."
"So, basically they all lived happily ever after?” Harriet asked bewildered.
Beth and Mavis looked knowingly at each other and then at her.
"They were perfect for each other,” Beth said, and Mavis nodded in agreement.
Harriet laughed. “You two are crazy. You do know that, right?"
"You watch your tongue,” Beth scolded. “Besides, Mavis did get you and Aiden back together, right?"
Harriet shook her head and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
Chapter 24
The house phone was ringing when Harriet came downstairs and into her kitchen Monday morning. It was Connie. She and Lauren had convinced Mavis and Aunt Beth the Threads should meet without Sarah to test their theory she was leaking their designs to the Small Stitches. The Threads were meeting at her house at ten o'clock.
"I'm in,” Harriet said. “As long as I'm not the one who has to deal with Sarah when she finds out."