Harriet and Jenny spent the next fifteen minutes carrying bolts of fabric to a table in the smaller of the two classrooms that adjoined the retail area of the shop. They finally came up with a plan that used three-and-a-half-inch squares surrounded by two-and-a-half-inch strips. Scrap quilts are a popular style that use many small geometric shapes cut from a large number of different fabrics, in imitation of the quilts made by pioneer women. By going for a scrappy look, they were able to incorporate more grey tones and even some pink to soften the contrast, but still maintain the Aggies’ color scheme.

They had just finished when Marjory returned from the staging area.

"Come here, child,” she said, and held her arms out for a hug.

Harriet allowed herself to be pulled to Marjory's ample bosom. She could remember the first time her own mother had hugged her. A photographer had staged it for a magazine article. It was supposed to show the warm side of the world-renowned scientist. Harriet had been eighteen and had been summoned to her parent's home when Time magazine came calling. She'd always wondered if hugs would have felt more natural if she'd been exposed to them at a younger age.

She had seen Marjory several times since she'd returned, and the woman had employed the same bear hug on each occasion, oblivious to Harriet's discomfort.

"I'm so glad you've come back to Foggy Point,” she said. “Your aunt Beth has been so worried about you."

Not so worried that she'd cancel her cruise to Europe, Harriet thought.

"I'm glad to be back, too,” she said, not sure if she was telling the truth.

"You two just missed your opportunity to bask in the glow of Foggy Point's newest celebrity,” Marjory said.

"Who would that be?” Jenny asked.

"Lauren Sawyer,” Marjory replied. “She got some little company to publish her cat designs."