"Now, honey,” Mavis Willis said and set her teacup down on the piecrust table in the sitting area of Harriet's long-arm quilting studio. “Lauren knows you didn't ruin her quilt. And she is trying to mend her ways. She was already in a two-year series in creative fiber design she's finishing this year. She's even signed up for the guild certification program. Her best work will be scrutinized by judges in London.

"We need to support that. Besides, it'll be fun, and heaven knows we could use a little fun. And most of the Loose Threads are going."

The Loose Threads was the quilting group Harriet's Aunt Beth had belonged to forever and that Harriet had joined upon her return to Foggy Point, Washington.

"I'm not signing up for two years of anything,” Harriet said and punched the stop button on her long-arm quilting machine. “Besides, if Kathy the Kurious Kitty was the best she could come up with after a year of training, I'm not impressed with her school."

"Oh, honey,” Mavis protested. “She made that cat quilt two years or more ago, before she started her schooling. She spent a lot of money making patterns before she knew better-she was hoping she could sell the patterns and get her money back. That's why she was so sensitive about her quilt. She knew what it was.

"And in any case, the school doesn't let students show their classwork outside the program until they graduate."

Harriet ran her hand over the stitching she'd just completed and decided it would do. She crossed the room and flung herself into the leather wingback chair opposite her older friend.