Free The Aloha Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

teachers more difficult,” Bonnie pointed out. “A steady job is
     more appealing than working only every other week.”
    “But it would be steady work. One week each instructor could offer a workshop on her
     favorite quilting technique, oneeach morning. The next week they could team-teach the week-long project.”
    “That’s asking a lot of our teachers.”
    “I know they can manage with you to lead them.”
    Bonnie groaned. “Again, I won’t be here and you know it. Sometimes you drive me crazy.”
    “And sometimes you drive me crazy, so we’re even.” Claire tucked her hands beneath
     her head and closed her eyes. “If it helps, I’ve already started a list of potential
     local quilting instructors who might be willing to teach for us. We can also ask Midori
     to inquire at her quilt guild. I don’t know if any of them have taught before, but
     there are some fantastic quilters in that group and it wouldn’t hurt to ask. I bet
     Midori would have some great suggestions for evening programs, too.”
    “I’ll take that list, thanks, and I’ll definitely talk to Midori.” Following Claire’s
     example, Bonnie set her notebook and pen aside and stretched out on her grass mat.
     She wondered if Skyline Eco Adventures offered evening hikes and how many of their
     campers might surprise themselves by daring more than they had ever thought possible.
     She wondered if like her they would feel the surge of pride and the renewal of confidence
     born of confronting risk and fear and taking a leap of faith above a rainforest canopy.

    Over the next few days, Bonnie described the founding of Elm Creek Quilt Camp in greater
     detail, occasionally phoning or emailing her friends back home to refresh her memory
     or to seek advice. Together she and Claire developed a master schedule with a tentative
     grand opening for the first week of April. Claire suggested that they hold a “soft
     opening” in late February or early March, a test run of the quilt camp with trustedfriends invited to be their first campers. With any luck, they could work through
     any unforeseen problems that appeared during their dress rehearsal before Bonnie left
     for home.
    Every night Bonnie watched the sunset from her lanai, the play of color and light
     filling her with awe and wonder. Every morning she woke refreshed and ready to continue
     her work, energized by the act of creation. She took her morning walks through Lahaina,
     along the ocean and around Courthouse Square, where an enormous banyan tree rose about
     sixty feet into the air and shaded nearly two-thirds of an acre, with a dozen aerial
     roots as thick as trunks stretching down to plunge back into the earth. In those early
     morning hours just after dawn, she passed other walkers and joggers admiring the scenery
     as they exercised, wetsuit-clad surfers carrying boards to the beach, and men and
     women on their way to work clad in uniforms bearing logos of shops and restaurants.
     Not a resident, not quite a tourist, Bonnie felt as if she tread a narrow path between
     those two groups, belonging to one and catching hidden glimpses of the other.
    No matter how early she rose or how quickly she completed her route, by the time she
     showered, dressed, and came down to the kitchen, Midori was always there working busily,
     baking popovers or muffins, cutting pineapple and mango for beautifully arranged tropical
     fruit plates, or pressing halved oranges in the juicer. Bonnie always offered to help,
     and by her third morning as a guest of the inn, she had begun to think of certain
     tasks as her responsibility—filling small pitchers with cream and tucking napkins
     into rings without asking Midori for an assignment.
    Sometimes Midori was too busy for small talk, but other times she greeted Bonnie with
     a relaxed friendliness that invited questions. Bonnie learned that Midori was born
     on Oahubut had moved to Maui more than forty years before. Her late husband, a musician,