Free Quilt As You Go by Arlene Sachitano

wooden rocker by the window, her black-rimmed reading glasses on the end of her nose, her appliqué project lying idle in her lap.
    "I don't know about you guys, but I'm sure glad that's over with,” Harriet said and collapsed into the chair opposite Lauren, neatly avoiding the topic on everyone's mind.
    "They made us wait until you got here,” Lauren said, and she wasn't talking about food.
    "We didn't want Mavis to have to tell her story more than once,” Robin said.
    "I've tried to tell you all—there's no story to tell. Gerald died almost twenty years ago in Malaysia. I received his ashes, and they're sitting on a shelf in my bedroom. How he came back to life only to die again during a Civil War re-enactment is beyond me."
    "You don't need to talk about this right now,” Connie said. “Take some time to catch up with everything that's happened."
    "I don't need time, I need answers,” Mavis said, some of her old fire showing at last. “I need to know what happened today, and I need to know what happened twenty years ago. And,” she said and paused, “I need to know who or what is in that urn in my bedroom. I don't want to talk about it—I have to talk about it."
    "Okay,” Robin said. She pulled a yellow legal pad from the quilting bag hanging by the handles from the back of her chair. Aunt Beth got up and rustled the pens and pencils in the cup on her phone table by the back door. She selected two and tossed them onto the table in front of her.
    Robin drew a vertical line down the middle of the page. Now she wrote on one side and Then she wrote on the other half.
    "What do we know for sure?” she asked.
    "Gerald's dead under now,” Harriet started.
    "And Gerald's not dead under then,” Lauren added.
    "Good point,” Harriet conceded.
    "His disappearance was planned,” DeAnn offered. “We don't know if he planned it or someone else did, but the fact he ‘died’ the first time while he was in a foreign country can't be a coincidence."
    Robin noted DeAnn's comments on the Then side of the page.
    "Gerald didn't come forward when he returned to town,” Aunt Beth said from the working area of the kitchen. She pulled a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. “Anyone want tea?"
    Several raised their hands, and she began filling glasses.
    "What sort of work did he do?” DeAnn asked.
    "Yeah, and who did he do it for?” Robin asked.
    "Well, he worked for Industrial Fiber Products,” Mavis said slowly. “Now it's called Foggy Point Fire Protection."
    "Carlton Brewster's company?” Lauren asked.
    "Yes, but Carlton's father was alive back then. He actually knew what he was doing,” she said with a wry smile.
    "What was Gerald's position?” DeAnn asked again.
    "I don't remember what his official title was, but he was a chemist. He figured out formulas for synthetic fibers that could be used in various types of protective gear,” Mavis said. “Just before he ... died, he developed the formula used for the fireman's turnouts."
    "What did they make before that?” Robin asked.
    "Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Carlton's daddy Marvin was a salesman at heart. He'd go out and sell a product before they'd even created it. Poor old Gerald would have to go to the lab and make it. Sometimes he could, sometimes he couldn't. More often than not, Gerald could make whatever Marvin thought up, but the company couldn't produce it for the price the customer wanted."
    "What kind of things?” Lauren asked.
    "Everything,” Mavis said. “You know those suits people wear in fencing competitions? They sense when a blade touches the fencer and record it as well as protect the person from blade strikes? And they made fireproof cocoons for forest fire fighters, and oven gloves for both house and barbecuing needs.” She paused and looked at the ceiling. “They made bulletproof vests, chainsaw chaps—you know, in case you drop the chainsaw, they keep you from cutting your leg off."
    "I think they still make those,”