Harriet turned her long-arm quilting machine off when she saw Luke coming up the driveway after school and waited in her studio until he came in.
“Hey, how was school?” she asked.
Luke grinned and shook his head.
“You always ask, like it’s going to magically get better. The best I can say is it wasn’t any worse than usual.”
“Hope springs eternal,” Harriet said and smiled back at him. “James left you a plate of tea sandwiches when he was home earlier. After you eat them, would you like to come to the homeless camp with me? James also brought home a couple of boxes of food for them, and I need to run it out there.”
“Sure. It’ll only take a minute for me to eat.”
“I’ll take the dogs out while you’re doing that.”
True to his word, Luke had finished his plate of sandwiches and was just finishing a second plate of small desserts James had also left.
“I’m ready,” he said around a mouthful of cookie.
“Take your time, we’re not in that big of a hurry.”
Luke opened the back of the car and pulled out the large blue tote. Harriet grabbed a smaller one and set it on the pavement at her feet while she locked the car.
“Follow me,” she said, picking up her tote.
“This is really cool,” Luke said as he scanned the park.
“Haven’t you ever been here?”
“We weren’t really the picnic-in-the-park sort of people. My dad probably came here after dark to sell drugs, but he never brought us kids along.”
Harriet smiled as she led the way toward the homeless camp.
“We’ll have to add ‘picnic in the park’ to your life-experience to-do list.”
Luke laughed.
“You’re assuming I’m going to survive the sit-on-Santa’s-lap adventure.”
“Am I trying too hard?”
“Maybe just a little. You know, I’ve got a whole lifetime to make up for these early deficits. You don’t have to try to recreate the perfect childhood all in the first couple of months.”
“I know,” Harriet said with a sigh. “I just feel so bad for what you had to go through. And I want things to be better for you.”
Luke stopped.
“Harriet, things are better for me. Just waking up in my own room in your house with you and James and the animals and not being hungry is beyond my wildest dreams. Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying all the new experiences, and I like that you’re trying so hard, but you’ve already done the important stuff.”
She set her tote down and hugged him awkwardly around his box. He set it down and hugged her back.
“You are the best son ever.” She said, swiping at the tears in her eyes.
Luke picked up his tote again.
“Now, don’t go getting all mushy on me.”
She smiled.
“I’ll try,” she said and headed into the woods.
Joyce Elias had her back to the trail as Harriet entered the homeless camp’s eating area. She turned when Harriet set the box of food from James on the large table in the center of the clearing.
“Harriet,” Joyce said in her soft, British-accented voice. “I was hoping I’d see you. And this must be the lad you were telling me about.”
Harriet put her arm around Luke’s shoulders.
“Joyce Elias, meet our foster son, Luke Harris.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. Harriet and James have told me all about you—all good of course.” Joyce said, and extended her hand. He shook it, his cheeks turning red.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said.
“Can I make either of you a cup of tea?” Joyce asked then, her breath visible in the cold air as she spoke. She wore a plaid wool shirt under a green down vest, a jaunty Fair Isle beret covering her gray curls.
Harriet opened her tote.
“Thanks, but we can’t stay. James was so busy with his afternoon tea service he didn’t have time to drop these off earlier, so I told him we’d handle it while we were out doing errands.” She lifted a foil-wrapped bundle from the box. “These are toasted ham-and-cheese sandwiches,” She set it down and pulled out a round foil-covered pan. “Three of these pans are chicken piccata and three more of them are chicken fettuccini. And in the bottom, we have baked potatoes and two bags of rolls. He suggests you use the fettuccini first—it doesn’t keep as well as the piccata does.”
“We greatly appreciate everything he sends us.”
“It works out well for him, too. I don’t think a lot of people realize how much food waste restaurants produce. He’s happy his leftovers can be put to good use.” She snapped the lid back on the tote. “You said you were hoping to see me. Is there something I can do for you?”
Joyce sat on the wooden bench that ran the length of the table.
“One of our regulars has gone missing. I know homeless people tend to be a transient lot, but as you know, we have people who pass through here, and then we have the group that winters over. Smokey Joe is one of the latter. He has only been with us for a year or so, but he had no plans to go anywhere. Max has searched the woods as well as he can, and we’ve found no sign of him.”
“Do you think he might be at the warming shelter?” Harriet asked.
“It’s possible. He had a friend who stayed in town; I suppose he may be visiting. Or he may have gone to the clinic and been kept. He was having chest pains a week or so ago. The point is, he’s been gone for two days, and it’s not like him.”
“Sure, we can check the warming shelter and the clinic, and I’ll ask at the Methodist church. I know they make beds available on these cold nights. Would you like me to ask Detective Morse to look into it?”
Joyce pressed her lips together.
“Let’s hold off on that for a bit. He’s not been gone that long, and I don’t want to cause him any problems if he’s just staying in town with his friend. As you know, we don’t ask too many questions when people come to live here as long as they follow the camp rules. If he’s here trying to get away from something, that’s his business.”
“Okay.” Harriet said. “Give me a contact number, and I’ll see if I can find him.” She handed Joyce her phone.
“I would appreciate it. I’m sure he’s fine, but you know, in the winter we tend to worry a little more.”
“Well, we better get going. I’ll come by tomorrow and let you know what I find out, either way.”
“Wow, do they live there all year around?” Luke asked as he followed Harriet out of the woods and back to the car.
“Indeed, they do.”
“My dad sold drugs to the homeless people in Seattle when I was little, but they were a lot different than Joyce.”
“I’m guessing they were a younger crowd?”
“Some of them, although there were plenty of old alcoholics. At least, they looked old.”
“We made quilts for this group last winter and learned a lot about them in the process. An architect friend of mine worked on a project that included building showers in the park restrooms for them as well as the dining table and benches and secure storage boxes for their personal possessions.”
“That’s cool.”
“I’m sure it helps. I think Joyce has had offers to move inside, but she likes living in the woods. Max, too.”
“If I was still living with my dad when I turned eighteen, I’d think seriously about moving onto the streets. It would be safer.”
“I’m glad you aren’t in that situation anymore.”
“Me, too,” he finally said.
“Are you okay with doing a little looking for Smokey Joe on the way home?” Harriet asked when they reached the car.
“You’re the driver.”
Harriet paused before getting in the car.
“You do get a say in what we do.”
“I know,” he said, smiling. “I just need some time to get used to that concept.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing,” Harriet said as she put the key in the ignition. “I say we go through a drive-thru and get some hot chocolate or something.”
Luke shivered as he fastened his seatbelt.
“Sounds good to me.”
Thirty minutes later, Harriet and Luke got back in the car, parked in front of the downtown warming shelter, a location that had been a boutique hotel in a previous life.
“Well, we’ve checked the clinic and the warming shelter, and I have a call in to the friend,” Harriet said. “Before we go to the church, how about we have a look in the little park by the Muckleshoot River bridge, since we’re close. Sometimes, the homeless people congregate there when they come into town so they can catch up with people who live in other camps.”
“As long as we’re here, we might as well. That hot chocolate did warm me up a little.”