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Joseph Meeker Elementary School in Foggy Point for the thirty years she'd taught there, including all three of Avanell's children.
    "Will you be seeing cats?” Sarah asked. “My Rachel has been sneezing and I'm not sure if she has a cold or an allergy."
    "I don't start for two more weeks, so I don't really know what I'll be doing. For all I know, I'll be scrubbing the kennels."
    "Rachel can't wait that long,” Sarah pressed. “Do you make housecalls?"
    "I really can't see animals until I officially start at the clinic. I don't have access to medications until then. I'm still waiting for my stuff to arrive, too—I don't have my bag or anything,” he said. “Sorry."
    Harriet looked over at Avanell. Avanell rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
    Sarah returned her attention to the seam she was sewing in her backing material.
    Avanell was anxious to visit with Aiden, and no one could blame her.
    "Go ahead and go with your son,” Harriet said. “I've got to wait until Sarah finishes her backing, and I'm sure she won't mind driving me and her quilt back to my place."
    Aiden gave her a curious look.
    "I don't want to take my mom away from what she's doing,” he said. “I know how important her quilting is."
    "You always could charm the socks off a zebra,” Mavis said. “But we all know your mom is going to win best in show even if she does take the afternoon to catch up with you, so you just go ahead. And we'll make sure Harriet gets home, don't you worry, Avanell."
    It was a toss-up whether Sarah or Lauren had the nastiest glare for Avanell's retreating back. Harriet knew Sarah would have made an excuse to avoid driving her if it hadn't meant she would be walking home carrying the woman's quilt.
    It only took Sarah an additional hour after the meeting broke up to finish her quilt back, and it became obvious to Harriet that if she sat in the same room with her, she would never finish. There seemed to be no end to the young woman's ego or her desire to talk about it, so she went to the kitchen and sat at the table with the latest copy of Quilters World until Sarah was done.

Chapter Eight
    Harriet dropped Sarah's quilt off in the studio and went into the kitchen. Fred wove figure-eights between her legs, making forward progress nearly impossible.
    She picked him up. “Well, Fred, we survived our first Loose Threads meeting on our own."
    Fred meowed.
    "And we discovered that Avanell has been holding out on us. She has a really hot-looking son we never knew about."
    Fred jumped to the floor and fluffed his tail.
    "Don't worry, Fred, you're the only man in my life and that's not changing.” After what Steve and his family had done, she would never share her heart again. “Besides, Avanell's son is too young for us. He's probably younger than you are in cat years."
    Fred flicked his tail and sauntered to the pantry where the kitty treats were stored. Harriet opened the door and gave him three fish-shaped kibbles from the foil pouch. She wondered what she'd do if she didn't have him to talk to. She'd like to think she wouldn't talk to herself, but you never knew.
    Before Steve had died, she'd had girlfriends she could call anytime, even if she just had a random thought to share. She should have known. They had been Steve's friends. They knew the truth, and even after all the nights they'd stayed up laughing and crying when one of them had broken up with her boyfriend, and the days they'd spent bringing food and cleaning house for another one after she'd had a miscarriage—after all that, still, no one thought she was important enough to be let in on Steve's secret.
    Harriet had spent the first year after Steve's death wallowing in self-pity. She rarely left their apartment, and spent her days going over their life together, trying to figure out if there had been clues she'd missed. She'd been sure it was her fault. If she'd just been less involved in her business, or spent less time with her faux friends, maybe she would have