Make Quilts Not War - By Arlene Sachitano Page 0,39
in the kitchen as she hurried to the studio. She unlocked the door.
It was Aiden. His cheeks and nose were bright red, and his fingers were like ice as she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside.
“Are you trying to kill yourself? It’s freezing out there.”
He stood inside the door, rubbing his arms with his hands.
“Come into the kitchen and let me make you something hot to drink. Then you can tell me why you’re trying to commit suicide by hypothermia on my porch steps.”
He followed her without saying anything.
Harriet put a paper filter in her single-cup filter holder and set it over a large mug. She scooped coffee into the filter and put the water kettle on to boil. Scooter was bouncing around Aiden’s feet as she worked. He picked the little dog up and examined the nearly healed wound on his back.
“He’s almost better,” he said with approval.
“I’m going to take him out real quick. If your water boils, pour it, okay?”
She didn’t wait for a reply. She crossed the kitchen and pulled Scooter’s sweater and leash from the broom closet and put them on him before carrying him outside.
Aiden was sitting hunched over his cup of coffee at the kitchen table when she returned. She put a small scoop of food in Scooter’s dish and a larger scoop of Fred’s hypoallergenic cat food in his dish then turned to the man at her table.
“Okay, why are you here?”
“I don’t know. We need to talk, I guess.”
“You guess?” She moved closer. “I think you said all that needs to be said the other night. Oh, that’s right, you didn’t say anything, because you weren’t there. That said everything that needed to be said.”
“I’m so sorry for that. You have no idea. Let me make it up to you.”
“You know, that might have meant something a couple of nights ago, but now is a little too late for a simple sorry.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“Yes, I can. I do.”
“You have to let me make it up to you,” he repeated. He ran his hands through his silky black hair.
“No matter how many times you say it, it’s not about making up for our missed dinner—and we both know it.”
“Then tell me what it’s about.”
“Aiden,” Harriet took his hand in both of hers. “We’ve had this discussion…more than once. It’s really quite simple. You want a relationship, but you’re not available.”
“What do you mean?” he challenged. “You think I’m seeing someone else?”
“Of course not. But that doesn’t mean you’re available. We keep talking about this over and over again, but in the end nothing changes.”
“It’s my sister, isn’t it?”
“Do you think?”, Her frustration was clear in her voice. “This is what I mean. The fact that you have to ask says it all. A relationship is two people, not three.”
“But everyone has family. You have your aunt. I would never stand in your way if your aunt needed you.”
“My aunt would never try to keep me from being with you or anyone else.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Have I been replaced already?”
“No! The point is, I don’t believe your sister hates me, not really. She hates sharing you with anyone. She’ll do this no matter who you’re seeing.”
“But she’s my sister. What am I supposed to do? Our parents are dead. I’m all she’s got.”
“See, that’s the trouble. You’re not all she has. She has another brother, and a husband and two children who need her.”
“Her husband left her. That’s why she did what she did. And she and Marcel don’t get along.”
Harriet took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Nothing’s changed, so why are you here?”
“I want to fix things. How can we make this better? There must be some way to make it work. Tell me. I’ll do anything.”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean. I’m not willing to be part of a triangle. You want two women in your life, and she will never accept that even if I could.”
“It’s not her decision,” he protested, but Harriet could see from his face that even he knew it wasn’t true.
“Look, I don’t want to fight with you, and I don’t like ultimatums. Having said that, I also can’t allow you to treat me the way you did the other night.”
He started to protest, but Harriet let go of his hands and put her fingers against his lips.
“Let me finish,” she said. “I know you believe your sister was having an authentic emergency. But even if she