Diamonds in a Cookie Tin
Stories about quilts that bind us to life and love
by
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Steps to the Altar
He is blessed over all mortals who loses no moment
of the passing life in remembering the past.
Henry David Thoreau, 1863
Raven stared out the passenger window of the ’39 Ford. If she took a couple of deep breaths, maybe Eddie wouldn’t know she was fighting back tears again. He didn’t like her to cry. It’s not as if she liked crying either, but their circumstances being what they were, it was getting hard not to.
The knock in the engine compartment up front of the beat up old Ford was becoming louder again. They were spending more on oil than gas now. Eddie kept to the back roads most of the time because he didn’t want to get pulled over because the engine was smoking so bad, not that there was much likelihood of that, but it seemed prudent to be cautious nonetheless. And a headlight was out, so they decided they should only travel during the day, just to be safe.
Everything they owned, which wasn’t much, was packed into the back seat. They hadn’t put anything in the trunk because there were spare parts and Eddie’s tools back there. Also, sometimes the latch stuck, and they were afraid they might have to take out the back seat to get their things if it finally couldn’t be opened.
Raven sent up another quick prayer, between tears, that they didn’t get a flat on one of those bald tires. They already used the only spare they had in
No telling if that old recap would hold, for that matter. Eddie found it in a discard pile at an old dirty tire store. Nobody ever threw tires away in 1947 without recapping them at least ten times, or so Raven had heard her pa say, so it had to be a really bad tire. Man should’ve given it to him for free, but Eddie was too honest. Raven told him that he should’ve waited for the man to go home and just take the tire, but he would hear nothing for it but to offer the man a dollar. It wasn’t much better than the one went flat, but long as it held air, they could get a few more miles away.
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About the Book
From the author of The Route Home and The Rosy Bottom Bar and Grill come seven stories, spanning several decades, about people, birth to aged, who find comfort in the quilts that bind them to their beginnings, endings and all things in the middle.
Gertie Haas’ quilt is stitched with tears. Raven Rowe finds her quilt hidden in the attic. Marnie Dorn leaves her quilt behind, while Janson Harcourt is taking his with him. Kiwi Kohl finds her quilt in a trunk, and Jilly Gerard’s is wrapped in music. Josie Alcott finds her quilt in a library in
Pull your comfort quilt around you, curl you hand around your tea cup, and share a moment in time with your neighbors in Diamonds in a Cookie Tin.
About the Author
Arleta Simms’ third book, Diamonds in a Cookie Tin, is a departure from her first two books, The Route Home, and The Rosy Bottom Bar and Grill. The compilation of stories in her latest book is a result of estate sale acquisitions and her quilting hobby, which are topics mentioned in the first books. The author resides in