Harriet drove her aunt to the ten o'clock church service the following morning and then on to DeAnn's house when church let out. Aunt Beth had called DeAnn the night before and left a message with her husband David about their intention to visit. He encouraged them and confided to Beth that any ideas she might have about calming the baby would be greatly appreciated no matter what DeAnn might say.
Harriet noted Mavis's powder-blue Lincoln Town Car in the driveway as she pulled in to the curb in front of DeAnn's brown two-story bungalow. DeAnn met them at the door, her index finger against her lips in the universal sign for quiet.
"Mavis finally got her to sleep,” she whispered. She was clutching a damp baby blanket.
They quietly followed her into the the living room, where Mavis held the sleeping child. She nodded as they continued through the dining room and kitchen into the breakfast room.
"Would you like some tea or coffee?” DeAnn asked.
"You sit down and rest a minute,” Aunt Beth said. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter then filled the teakettle that sat on the stove and turned the flame on. With easy familiarity, she got a mug and put a teabag in it.
"So,” Harriet said. “How's it going?” She could guess how it was going from the dark smudges that shadowed her friend's eyes.
DeAnn laughed. “I think it's going about as bad as it can go. Iloai has cried pretty much nonstop. Mavis is the first one who's been able to get her calm enough to fall asleep."
"I'm sorry,” Harriet offered.
"It's okay,” DeAnn said. “We were prepared in our adoption class for this possibility."
"Still, it can't be easy,” Aunt Beth said “You want some coffee?"
DeAnn nodded, and directed her to a green mug with the Foggy Point Video logo on its side. Beth filled it and handed it to her.
"Somehow, when they described crying, tantrums and difficulty sleeping in our class they sounded so manageable.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Iloai has done all of that and then some."
"You'd think she'd be loving life here after being raised in an orphanage,” Harriet said.
"If she's never known anything else, this sort of change could be unnerving, though,” Aunt Beth said. “Think about it. She's used to being surrounded by a lot of children, and she probably hasn't had much adult attention. She might be having sensory overload."
"Is that her blanket?” Harriet asked. DeAnn was still holding the tattered beige quilt.
"Yes.” DeAnn laid the small quilt on the kitchen table and spread it out. “She's been chewing on the corner here,” she said, and pointed to a damp section. “I was going to try to stabilize the edge there, where it's coming apart, while she's asleep."
Aunt Beth held out her hand, and DeAnn handed her the quilt.
"Huh,” Aunt Beth mumbled as she examined it.
"What?” Harriet and DeAnn asked in unison.
She turned the small quilt around.
"Look at the embroidered images,” she said. “See how the color of the thread is starting to fade there at the top?” She pointed to the upper left corner. “Then look at this one."
DeAnn and Harriet leaned closer to examine the spot she was pointing at.
"The thread does look darker in the middle of the quilt.” Harriet ran her hand over the surface, pausing to carefully feel the area where each of the embroidered squares joined. “It almost looks like the embroidered pieces were added after the quilt was finished. See how the bottom half of the quilt has plain fabric with no embellishment? I think the stitched blocks were made and added on to the quilt over a period of time."
"Someone may have donated a UFO,” Aunt Beth suggested, using the acronym most quilters used for their unfinished quilts or “objects.” “The volunteers probably took the top the way it was and put it with a backing. Feels like they used fabric inside in place of batting,” she added.
"That makes sense,” Harriet said. “They probably don't have much use for warm quilts in Africa.” She looked at the embroidered designs again. “The imagery is interesting. Look.” She pointed at the block in the upper right corner. “It looks like a woman holding a baby in her arms."
"These lines look like waves,” Aunt Beth said, rubbing her forefinger over several parallel rows of blue stitching.
"Lots of different charities donate quilts to orphanages,” Harriet mused. “They could have come from anywhere in the world."
"I suppose,” Aunt Beth said.
"Not to change the subject,” DeAnn said, “but I heard Aiden had a meltdown at the Threads meeting yesterday."
"That's putting it mildly,” Aunt Beth told her, mouth twitching into a smile.
"We had round two last night,” Harriet admitted.
"Was he any calmer?” Aunt Beth asked.
"By the time he left, he was better, but only a little. The police had come to the clinic to ask him about Neelie."
"Why are they questioning him?” DeAnn asked. “He wasn't even here."
"I don't know. He put them off until later today. I'm guessing it has to do with her staying at his house and being found on his property."
DeAnn picked up her napkin and twisted it like a rope.
"Carla's going to freak out when they question her. Since she's the one who let Neelie stay there, they definitely will question her."
"Yeah, but we didn't stop her,” Harriet said. She started to run her fingers through her hair then stopped herself when she recognized Aiden's habit.
"She's down for the count,” Mavis announced as she came into the kitchen. The teakettle whistled and she took a mug from a black iron rack on the counter and put a tea bag in it.
"Could you pour mine, too?” Harriet asked.
"I know the agency told you to put her in a crib,” Mavis continued when she'd poured the tea. “but I couldn't hoist her over the rails, so I put her on the bed."
"Frankly, if she stays asleep, I don't care,” DeAnn admitted. “Joseph suggested the crib, since that's what they had at the orphanage. I guess they don't move to beds until they literally can't fit in the crib."
"She's worn out,” Mavis said. “Poor little thing."
"Speaking of worn out,” Aunt Beth said, “we'll get out of your hair so you can get some rest, too."
"I'm going to go back up and sit in that big rocker you have in Iloai's room,” Mavis said. “I brought my dog appliqué with me, and there's light enough in her room I can work on it while she sleeps. That way you can get a real nap."
"Speaking of the dog blocks, we better go call everyone and figure out when we can meet. We need to see where we are,” Aunt Beth said when they'd talked through their block options one more time without coming to any new conclusions.
"Let us know if we can do anything,” Harriet added and stood up. She gathered the used cups from the table and took them to the sink.
"She's going to have a tough few weeks ahead,” Aunt Beth said when they were back in Harriet's car.
"I hope it's only a few weeks,” Harriet said. “Do you have time to preview my dog block before you go home?"
"Oh, honey, I always have time for you."
"Nothing else going on, huh?"
Beth laughed.