The Quilt Before the Storm Read Online Free PDF Page A

that’s your problem,” Harriet said and handed her two folded quilts.
    “Who said I had a choice?” Lauren shot back.
    A black Ford Explorer pulled up beside Harriet’s car and parked, ending the discussion before she could grill Lauren about what she meant. The passenger side window slid down.
    “Hey,” called a male voice.
    Harriet bent to look into the car.
    “Tom!” she said as she recognized Tom Bainbridge, who she’d met the previous spring when she and the other Loose Threads had attended a folk art school in Angel Harbor owned by his mother. “What brings you to town?”
    “And here, of all places,” Lauren added.
    “I’m working,” he said with a smile. “What are you two doing out here in the rain? It’s not really picnic weather.”
    “We’re being do-gooders,” Lauren said.
    “What Lauren means is we’re delivering some quilts and waterproof tarps we made to the homeless people who live in the forest behind Fogg Park.”
    “Well, what a coincidence,” Tom said and got out of his car. “I’m here to interview the homeless residents for my new project. If everything works out, some if not all of them will be living in new housing by this time next year.”
    “Where?” Harriet asked and picked up an armload of quilts.
    “Who’s paying for it?” Lauren asked at the same time.
    “A redevelopment group wants to build some multi-use apartments a couple of blocks from the docks. They’re still looking at sites, but the city has stipulated that some of the apartments be set aside for qualifying homeless people.”
    “Qualifying?” Harriet said.
    “Believe it or not, there are people of means who live without a permanent residence. Sometimes it’s just a minimal pension, but it’s enough that they could rent a room in low-income housing if they wanted to. Turns out they’d rather live outside in the park than in a room with cardboard walls and gun-toting, drug-using neighbors.”
    “I can’t say I blame them,” Harriet said.
    “Me, either,” Tom agreed. “Towns like Foggy Point are trying to provide another alternative. This proposed project will have space for homeless vets, very-low-income homeless and then lower-income and so on, up to and including luxury penthouse suites.”
    “Sounds like some kind of utopian sci-fi mumbo-jumbo,” Lauren said. “I suppose they’re solar powered and reuse gray water, too.”
    “Yes, they’ll be green buildings, if that’s what you’re trying to say.” Tom smiled at Harriet.
    “Let’s get these back to the camp,” she said and turned back toward the park with her armload of quilts.
    “Can I carry anything?” Tom asked.
    Lauren paused as if she were going to hand off her quilts but then looked at Harriet and changed her mind.
    “No, we’re good,” she said.

    Robin and Connie were standing in the main clearing beside Joyce and a man who had to be the new resident she’d told them about. He was older, maybe mid-sixties, and was dressed in foul-weather hiking clothes, Danner boots, brand-name Gore-Tex jacket, and moleskin cargo pants. His tan was more Club Med than Fogg Park.
    “Hi,” Joyce said when the trio reached them. “This is Ronald, the gentleman I was telling you about—the one with a tent. I think he could use one of your blankets.”
    Lauren glared and clutched her quilts a little tighter. Harriet handed one to him.
    “Nice to meet you,” Harriet said. “Enjoy your quilt.”
    “I’m Tom Bainbridge,” Tom said and held his hand out to Joyce then Ronald. “I’m the architect hired to design a proposed housing project designed to provide alternatives to living in the park.”
    “I like the sound of that,” Ronald said. “How can we help you?”
    “I’d like to talk about space requirements. For instance, would people prefer studio-style apartments or small but separate rooms? And how about kitchen size? Is an under-counter refrigerator adequate, or do people need full-size? I guess I’m asking how