yourself,” Jenny said. “I'm sure she'll be working on it tomorrow at our Loose Threads meeting. You are coming, aren't you?"
Aunt Beth had taken Harriet to the Loose Threads before she left for her cruise. People had been friendly enough, but she found it difficult not to feel like an outsider. Everyone talked about people and places that were foreign to her. And at the two meetings she'd attended with Aunt Beth, the group had treated her like she was made of spun sugar. As if one wrong word would cause her to dissolve.
"I guess so,” she replied. “Sure."
Aunt Beth had reminded her that the Foggy Point quilting community was a small one, and she needed to keep herself visible if she expected to be the machine quilter of choice for the Loose Threads. She had also urged her to be the quilt depot for the upcoming Puget Sound Stitcher's show. Puget Sound was a regional show. Bigger ones were juried, which meant that competitors had to submit pictures and descriptions of their entries for screening before they were allowed to compete. For the Puget Sound show, anyone could display their quilt as long as they paid the fee and filled out a form. As the depot, Foggy Point quilters would drop off their submissions at Harriet's studio, and she would transport them to the staging area in Tacoma. After the show, she would bring the quilts back, and people would collect them from her.
This way, she would meet everyone in her area who was submitting, not just her customers. And, as Aunt Beth had pointed out, she could keep tabs on who else was long-arm quilting in the area.
She believed it was a smart business move, but she also knew Aunt Beth was worried about her and was trying to force her to get out and meet people. She didn't need to worry. Harriet didn't plan to be here long enough to need new customers, and she sure didn't need friends.
Marjory cut Jenny's fabrics, rang up the total and punched Jenny's Needle Points card. Jenny was one purchase away from filling her card, which would entitle her to twenty dollars in free fabric or notions. Harriet purchased two of the square-cut quarter-yard pieces known in the quilting world as fat quarters and received her first punch on her own card.
"I'm parked around the corner,” Jenny said, and held the door for her.
Chapter Five
Jenny parked her BMW sedan in Harriet's circular driveway and carried her quilt into the studio.
"This isn't as fancy as Avanell's,” she said.
"It doesn't have to be fancy. I've seen a number of blue ribbon winners that were well executed traditional patterns. Workmanship and color choice make a big difference in a quilt."
"Avanell's are always well crafted and fancy,” Jenny countered. “Who would have thought to combine trapunto with traditional pieced blocks and then hand-dye the fabric to boot?"
"It is a nice quilt,” Harriet admitted.
"Lauren's nuts if she thinks anything she designed would outshine Avanell's work."
"I've never seen Lauren's."
"When you do, you'll see what I'm talking about. She has potential, but she just hurries too much, and she doesn't understand where the boundaries are between being inspired by someone's work and outright copying. Your aunt tried to explain to her that she couldn't trace pictures out of children's books and then sell them as her own patterns, but she doesn't understand."
"I hope she doesn't ask me to stitch anything like that,” Harriet said.
"You won't have to worry—she does her own quilting on her home sewing machine. You're the quilt depot, aren't you?"
Harriet nodded.
"You'll get to see it then even if she doesn't come to Loose Threads. Check it out when you do—you'll see what I mean. Avanell would have to keel over dead for Lauren to have a chance, and even then it wouldn't be certain."
"Let's have a look at yours,” Harriet said. She didn't want to be forced into taking sides before she'd even met Lauren.
Jenny's quilt was a simple double-four patch set on point. The basic form