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“She gave it to me to use in case of emergency.” Carla said.

“I think flooding qualifies as an emergency.” Lauren took a drink of her latte. “And let’s not wait until the water is at the doorstep. It’s going to take a while to move that much fabric if we have to go up and down that attic ladder of hers.”

“Does anyone know how close to flood stage the river is?” Mavis asked.

Carla pulled a smartphone from her purse and, with a glance at Lauren, tapped on its face. Lauren looked on like a proud parent. She’d undoubtedly had something to do with Carla’s newfound technical prowess, Harriet thought.

“Two more feet to reach flood stage,” Carla reported, her cheeks turning pink.

“It’s another three feet or so to street level,” Harriet said. “But once it goes over the street it’s right into the basement.”

“I didn’t know Marjory had a basement,” Connie said.

“She doesn’t keep anything of consequence down there,” Mavis said. “The people she bought it from warned her about the flood potential. She just stores spare shelving and tables.”

“I’m with Lauren,” Harriet said. “If we’re going to have to do a major move, I think we should start sooner rather than later. The rain isn’t supposed to let up, and if the windstorm knocks any big trees over the roads or even in the river near here, the shop could be in trouble without much warning.”

Ronald had gone for a refill and stopped by the Threads’ table on his way back to his chair.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your concern about the quilt store flooding. I’d like to offer my services to help move inventory,” he said. “I’m sure Duane and Joyce would be happy to help also. It’s not like we have homes or families to take care of.” His face reddened as he said the last part. “It might help us feel more normal.”

“Thank you,” Aunt Beth said. “We’ll let you know the plan before we all leave.”

He went back to his companions and recounted his offer. Harriet saw Joyce nodding thoughtfully as he spoke.

“I guess that’s it, then,” Aunt Beth said. “When do you all want to start?”

“I’d just as soon get it over with, before the wind picks up,” Harriet said.

Connie and Mavis agreed.

“I’ll need to check with Aiden,” Carla said. “I need to see if he wants me to do anything for his sister now that she’s stuck here.”

“Michelle is still here?” Harriet felt the muscle in her jaw tighten and willed it to relax.

“She was going to leave yesterday,” Carla explained. “But they talked so late last night, she decided to stay over. She was still in bed when Wendy and I left for here.”

“Hey, is this a party?” Tom Bainbridge asked. Rainwater dripped from his hair. Harriet had been so focused on Carla’s news she hadn’t noticed him arrive.

“You’re stuck here, too?” Lauren asked.

“I think that’s obvious, don’t you?” he shot back. “I ran into one of my mom’s old friends yesterday and stayed for dinner with her and her husband. I let them convince me it was too late to drive home in all this rain.” He gestured toward the chaos outside the window. “So, here I am.”

“Want to help move fabric to the attic of the quilt store?” Harriet asked.

“Why not? It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

Chapter 7

“Did anyone talk to Sarah today?” Connie asked as the group returned their used coffee mugs to the bar.

“I called to tell her about coffee this morning, but she said she’s at her boyfriend’s house and he didn’t want her to leave his cat alone.” Mavis shook her head in disbelief. “Apparently, he thinks the cat is having emotional problems due to his absence.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Lauren said. “I think we need to go check on her. I want to see with my own eyes that cat is the only reason she’s not coming to quilting anymore.”

“Would anyone care to give us a ride?” Ronald asked hopefully.

“You’re going to have to get used to taking the bus,” Joyce scolded him. “That’s why the church gave us these passes.”

“Of course you can ride with us,” Aunt Beth said. “I’ve got room for two people if one doesn’t mind crawling into the back seat of my Beetle.”

“I’ve got room,” Harriet said, and with the transportation settled, the group drove to Pins and Needles.

“How about Lauren and I go up to the attic and see what’s already up there,” Harriet suggested. “Duane and Rodney could go to the basement and see what’s down there. If there are folding tables, they might be useful for stacking bolts of fabric, and at the very least, we could bring them up out of the flood zone.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mavis said. “Come on, gentlemen, I’ll show you where the basement door is.”

“Where is the attic access, anyway?” Lauren asked.

“I’ll show you,” Carla volunteered, and led them to the hallway outside the kitchen at the back of the store. She picked up a broom handle that had a large metal hook in place of the bristles and with a practiced move used it to grab the latch to a set of accordion stairs that folded down from the ceiling.

“I’m not seeing Mavis or Beth going up and down these babies,” Lauren said as she stepped onto the first of the steep, narrow steps and began to climb.

Harriet followed and was soon standing in the large attic that covered the entire square footage of the store below. Three eight-foot tables were lined up against the front wall of the building, bolts of fabric wrapped in plastic stacked six bolts high on each table. Plastic storage bins were neatly stowed under each table.

“Here’s a bin marked ‘tablecloths,’” Harriet said as she opened the container and verified that it was, indeed, full of tablecloths.

“Are we having a party?” Lauren asked as she took the two cloths Harriet handed her and spread them on the floor. Harriet took two more and laid them next to Lauren’s.

“Let’s stack the tables as high as we can, and then we can start putting bolts on the cloths on the floor.”

“Beth told us to bring these tables up to you ladies,” Duane said as he fell through the stair opening along with the table he was dragging up the stairs. Ronald followed, dragging another table that was obviously being pushed from below. The two men were red-faced from the effort.

“Thanks, guys. I’m not sure how many more you have, but I think with what’s here it’ll be enough for now.”

Lauren looked at Harriet as she spoke. Harriet was pretty sure they were thinking the same thing she was-the two men looked like heart attacks waiting to happen. Whatever they had been doing before they became homeless it clearly hadn’t involved manual labor.

“I think we should do some sort of bucket brigade-style line,” Tom was saying when Harriet and Lauren returned to the fabric sales room where the others were milling about.

“Tom’s right,” Beth agreed. “We need an organized plan. Otherwise, we’re going to be getting in each other’s way.”

“Marjory has some wheeled carts we use for stocking,” Carla offered. She went to the small room where Marjory unpacked new fabric as it arrived. She came back wheeling a flat-topped cart that could accommodate two stacks of fabric bolts side-by-side lengthwise and fit easily in even the narrowest aisles in the store.

“There are two more of these in the packing room,” she said.

Connie quickly organized the volunteer team into four groups. Ronald, Duane, and Beth loaded fabric onto the carts. Joyce and Mavis pushed the carts to the stairs and back. Carla handed bolts to Lauren, Tom and Harriet to carry up the steep stairs.

When Robin arrived, she went into the attic and received the fabric from the person climbing the stairs then put it onto a table or cloth. To the degree possible, everyone was trying to keep groupings of fabric together the same way they were displayed on the sales floor, in the hope that it would make setting up downstairs easier when the flood was over.