Fiction Friday-The Mystery of the Open Door.

Jenna knew she was in for a difficult day when she arrived at her quilt room door and noticed it was open.   She stopped so suddenly that the mug of tea she was carrying sloshed over its brim and onto her hand.  "Grandmother's biscuit's" she exclaimed and didn't know if it was in reaction to the hot tea or the door.  Everyone in the family were under strict orders to 'never, ever, if you value your life and future inheritance fail  to leave the door firmly closed.'  Yet, here it was, definitely not closed.
She knew what she was going to see before she walked into the room.  Muffin, their beautiful white, very hairy cat was draped like a fashion model on the black fabric that she had left on the cutting table.  Jenna didn't know if she should grab her camera or the cat but decided on the latter.  No sense encouraging the creature to think it had done a good thing.
After putting the cat out of the room and hanging the fabric on the line where, hopefully, the wind would remove some of  the hair, Jenna sat down at her sewing machine.  She had been working on a new pattern and it was presenting a lot of problems.  "Why", she wondered, "would someone design a pattern with so many teeny pieces.  Did they secretly hate quilters?"  She had to cut 120 one inch squares using four different colours.  They all were then sewn together in a particular way which ultimately, and if she didn't through the whole thing into the fire, would form a design.
She had, the evening before, laid the tiny squares into their 4 block groupings but now, courtesy of Muffin, they were scattered everywhere.  By the time she had everything organized, changed the needle that broke within 3 minutes of sewing and resewn all the pieces that hadn't been done because the bobbin ran out of thread, it was lunch time.
The afternoon proceeded without further problems and, by the time Jenna quit sewing to make supper, she was satisfied with her accomplishments. She had had to leave the sections that needed the black fabric but she could remove the remaining hairs that evening.   She still, however, had to deal with the culprit who had left the quilt room door open.  She asked each person in turn as they were eating but despite promises of not removing a name from her will, no-one admitted to having been in the room. "It didn't open itself so someone left it open.  It isn't an unforgivable offence but please don't let it happen again."
She was washing the dishes when her daughter came into the kitchen.  "Mom, she whispered.  "Come here but don't make a noise." Jenna followed the girl down to hall toward the quilt room.  Her daughter was moving slowly and quietly when she motioned her mother closer.  "Look"
Jenna looked in the direction of her pointing finger and started to laugh.  Muffin was hanging from the door handle.  His weight was sufficient to unlatch the door and, as they watched, it swung open and the cat sauntered in, tail held high in triumph.  "That cat" , said Jenna.  "I guess that solves that mystery and I guess we better change the door handle to a knob."