The Quilt Before the Storm Read Online Free PDF

much cooking do you envision doing? Will people live alone or with roommates?”
    “Being indoors with a roof over our heads will be such a big step up I’m not sure the rest matters,” Joyce said.
    “I’m sure that’s true initially,” Tom said, “but I’d like to build apartments people will stay in. I’d like people to be comfortable once they get beyond being warm and dry.”
    Joyce looked him up and down without saying anything.
    Duane came into the clearing from the trail and introduced himself.
    “I heard you say you wanted to talk to people about the housing you’re going to design.”
    “That’s right,” Tom said.
    “A number of our group are at the Methodist church warming room waiting for lunch, and a couple more are at Annie’s, the coffee shop downtown. You can probably still catch them there if you hurry,” Duane said.
    “You might be a bit more comfortable, too,” Joyce added. Rain dripped off her nose, chin and eyelashes.
    Tom looked around.
    “Okay, maybe you’re right,” he said. He looked at Harriet. “Want to meet for coffee later?”
    “Sure, when?”
    They agreed to give him an hour to talk to the people at the church and another half-hour to talk to the coffee shop crowd. Harriet suggested they meet at The Steaming Cup, Foggy Point’s other popular coffee shop, and he agreed.
    “Well, aren’t you two just cozy,” Lauren said when Tom was out of earshot.
    “We’re friends, Lauren. Don’t you have any male friends?”
    “Yes, and they don’t look at me the way he looks at you.” She held her hands up in front of her. “Okay, fine. None of my business.”
    “Can we leave quilts here for the people who are in town?” Connie asked.
    “That would be nice, and we’d take an extra one, if you can spare it,” Joyce said, looking at the full armloads of quilts. “We like to keep a few extra supplies on hand for new people. There is no typical situation when someone becomes homeless, but not many are able to bring as much from their old life as Ronald here did.”
    “I’ve always been a planner,” Ronald said. Harriet couldn’t tell if he was blushing, his face was so red from the cold, wet rain, but he looked embarrassed. “This was my fallback to the fallback plan.” He shook his head. “I just never imagined my family would turn me away when I lost my house.”
    “I’ll bet you didn’t tell them you’d be homeless, did you?” Joyce said. She turned to the Loose Threads. “People who end up here often are turned away by family who don’t realize how dire the circumstances are, and people like Ronald here are too proud to tell them the real situation.”
    “I won’t beg,” Ronald said. “My daughter was right—they have a full house with two kids and another on the way, and her husband’s mother is already staying with them. She said I was always too busy with work to spend the time with her and her brother when they needed me, so how can I expect to come crying to them now that I’m the one who needs help.
    “You know what? She’s right. I wasn’t father of the year. I can’t go back and change that, but I can avoid causing them any more pain.”
    “Hopefully, that bed will be a bit more comfortable now that you have one of our nice warm quilts,” Connie said.
    “And I do thank you for that,” Ronald said with a theatrical bow. “I see this as a temporary setback. I just need to find a job and start over.” His eyes filled with tears.
    “We all appreciate the quilts and tarps,” Joyce said. “Let’s get the rest of them in something waterproof before they’re soaked through.”
    Lauren and Harriet handed off the quilts after showing Joyce the quillow feature. Connie helped her load them into two wrinkled black plastic garbage bags she’d pulled from under the large table.
    The wind lashed the Loose Threads as they walked back to the parking lot.
    “Anyone want to join Tom and me for coffee in an hour?” Harriet asked.
    “Connie and