The Christmas Secret (14 page)

Jason picked up a stack of four boxes and set them on the floor. “Who are the boxes for?”

“The homeless and all the families we help here.”

Jason pulled his cap over his head. “Did Gloria start this place?”

“Out of the back of her car,” Dalton said. “Her son was missing for seven years and she couldn't stand the thought of him wandering the street, wondering if anyone was helping him. She opened her trunk and started passing out socks. It grew from there.”

Jason looked around the space with the bright-colored walls, classroom area with a few tables and folding chairs, small kitchen space with a few cabinets, refrigerator, and countertop, and the play area complete with indoor basketball hoop, jump ropes, balls, and Marcus, and something moved him. It wasn't a voice. It wasn't loud; it fell more like mist but Jason ignored it. “It doesn't look like much but a lot happens here,” Dalton said.

“How long have you been here?” Jason asked, walking toward the front door.

“We've been in this space for two years and before that we operated out of Gloria's home for several years.”

“And the kids who come here?”

“Most are being raised by a single mother or their grandparents. Most of them don't have an active father. A lot of them like Marcus don't even know their father.” He called to Marcus and held his coat out for him. “Let's go home and see what Heddy is making for dinner.”

“I hope it's mac and cheese!” Marcus said.

“I hope it's not,” Dalton said, zipping the boy's coat.

“You coming tomorrow?” Marcus asked, looking at Jason.

“I'll be here,” Jason said, holding out his fist for Marcus to bump it.

“I'm gonna take you down, Dakmar,” Marcus said.

“That's big talk from a kid who can't even get the ball to the rim!”

Jason wrapped his scarf around his neck and stuck his hands in his pocket for the walk back to Wilson's. His steps were quick over the sidewalks that were whitening with snow but he heard that voice inside him again or was it an echo or something else? It was falling without a sound like light or flakes of snow. He pushed it away. He loved accounting; he was convinced he did it with heart and not just for the paycheck. High-rise living in the city is what he was made for, not some garage apartment in this place. He had
no
desire to live here or shoot hoops with Marcus after school. The kid couldn't offer him anything anyway. He reasoned that the sky was too bright, the air too cold, and his belly too hungry to think clearly. There wasn't a voice among the barren crab apple trees or whispers among the dormant daylilies. He saw the sign for Betty's up ahead and bent his head down to avoid the snow. He'd get something to eat and forget about Glory's Place.

 

Betty hugged a young woman and waved at someone waiting in a car in front of the restaurant. She closed the door and smiled when she saw me. “Oh, I wish you'd been here thirty seconds earlier to meet my granddaughter! She and her mother come into town and stay with me this time every year and we eat too much food and stay up too late talking.”

I followed her to the counter and leaned onto it. “So, was that your daughter in the car?”

Betty slipped on a plastic glove and arranged the pastries in the display case and put any broken cookies into a plastic bag. “Daughter-in-law. She married my son.”

I grabbed the bottle of window cleaner and sprayed the top of the display case, shining it. “Did he ever work here with you?”

She laughed. “When he was a teenager he absolutely refused to work in the restaurant with me. His girlfriend did
but not Dennis. He thought he was too good. He wasted a lot of years around that time. Did too many drugs. Lost too many jobs. Used too many people. But he finally came to his senses as they say.” She was quiet and closed the display case. “He met Maureen and one day he said he'd like to work in the bakery. He was the best baker in the city.” She looked down into the case and smiled. “He came up with most of these pastry recipes. Nobody makes a cream cheese bear claw as good as Betty's Bakery and that's because of Dennis.”

“So why'd he stop working here?” I asked, setting out two new stacks of napkins in the basket on top of the counter.

“Heart attack eight years ago. Took him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “They said he didn't feel any pain. It's always easier on the one leaving.” She held the bag of cookie pieces out to me. “For your babies.” She saw a longtime customer enter with her grandson and walked around the corner to greet her. Since I had started at Betty's I wondered what it was about this short, stout woman that made her so endearing. I thought it was because she had caught something from her son's passing. It flickered out through her in the way she talked with customers or dealt with employees. She wasn't given over to sentimental hog-wash, she was too realistic for that, nor did she romanticize anyone's problems. They were what they were and Betty
understood. That kind of compassion comes with living and losing what you love. I had the sense that Betty had lost a lot.

 

Zach and Haley crouched against the wall in his bedroom and listened as the knock grew louder and louder. “It must be the Bat Lady,” Haley said, whispering. “I can hear her flapping her wings.”

“Shh,” Zach said, scolding her. “We don't want her to know we're in here.”

“I don't like being here without Mom,” Haley said, clutching Brown Dog tighter to her chest.

The phone began to ring and Haley jumped up. “Sit down,” Zach said, whispering. “We can't answer that. We'd have to run out to the kitchen and the Bat Lady would hear us and know we're in here.” The knocking and ringing bounced off the walls and Haley covered her ears.

 

Iopened my cell phone and tried calling the kids again.
They're all right
, I thought.
They're just busy playing and didn't hear the phone
. It rang several times and my heart beat faster. “Oh, God,” I whispered. “Please.” It clicked to voice mail and I snapped the phone shut.

“You have a table,” Betty said, leaning around the corner.

“I'm coming,” I said, dialing the phone again.
Come on, baby. Come on
.

“Hello.” Zach's voice was quiet and I wanted to cry.

“Zach, I've been calling. Where are you?”

“We were in my bedroom because someone was knocking on the door. It was probably the Bat Lady trying to scare us.”

I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. “Mrs. Meredith wouldn't bother you,” I said. “Take the phone to your bedroom while you play and remember to see if it's me before you answer it.”

“Okay, Mom. Are you coming home now?”

“No, honey. I have a few more hours to go.” He was quiet on the other end. “Great job not answering the door. What was your sister doing?”

“Freaking out.”

I laughed. “Good job keeping her calm. Why don't you take three cookies each back to your room?”

“How about four each?”

At that point I would have let them eat the whole package. “You bet. I love you, big man.” He was quiet. “Zach?”

“I've got the hand signal up for I love you.”

I laughed and hung up. I didn't know how I would keep my mind on work for the next five hours. How could I have left them home alone? My phone vibrated and I glanced down to see if it was Zach. It was Brad. I ignored it. I glanced at my section and noticed TS sitting at table one. I could hear Gloria in my head: “He's TO today. Like Toto.”

I didn't have the mental energy to give him much thought; my mind was at home with Zach and Haley. “Hi,” I said, setting a glass of water in front of him.

“I thought you worked mornings,” he said, taking off his coat.

“I'm working a double today.”

He seemed awkward and tongue-tied. “I told my grandfather to come in.” I looked at him, confused. “Did he? He said he talked to you.” I had no idea what he meant. “He had a sack of cookies so I know he came in.”

“Sure,” I said, just following along. “He bought cookies.”

“So everything's good again?” His hair stuck out from beneath his cap and he looked like an ad in one of the outdoor magazines my grandfather would read.

“Yes,” I said. I was puzzled but he was so sincere about it that I found him charming. Betty busied herself sweeping beneath nearby tables and I wondered if she was spying on me. I looked over at her and she nodded her head toward TS, winking. I rolled my eyes and looked back at him. “What would you like?”

He glanced over the menu. “Well, I'd ask you but I'm afraid you'd recommend a boiled egg with dry toast again.” I smiled. “Could I just have a burger?”

“Fries or onion rings?”

“Surprise me,” he said. I was smiling over
that. Come on
, I said to myself. “Hey,” he said as I turned to walk away. “How long have you lived here?”

“Seven years.”

“Is this what you wanted? You know, when you were a kid?”

I thought a moment and wondered what he was getting at. “No,” I said. “It's different.”

“In a good way or in a bad way?”

“In a different way,” I said, thinking out loud. I walked to the waitress station and was aware of my jeans and the apron around my waist and hoped he wasn't looking at me again. Betty winked and put her thumb in the air. He was.

“So the spy is back,” she said, whispering as I input his order. “Do you think he's FBI or CIA?” I smiled and pretended to ignore her. “Or do you think he has his own private investigation firm? Somebody batten down those glasses,” she said over her shoulder. “Things could start flying here any minute.”

I laughed and reached for a glass. “Okay, he's not a spy.”

“Of course he's not,” she said. “But he is awfully cute, isn't he?”

“I haven't noticed,” I said. I stepped around the corner to call home and noticed Brad had tried calling again. “What do you want now?” I said, looking at the phone. He didn't
leave a message. I dialed the house and waited. Haley answered. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Can I have chips?”

They were fine. “Did you eat all your casserole and peas?”

“There's one noodle and one pea left on my plate.”

“Fill one of the bright blue cups up but no more than that, okay?” She hung up and I imagined they'd eat from every bag and package before I got home.

I filled a glass with tea and took it to TS. “So,” he said. “What do you do for fun around here?”

Besides work, I hadn't been out of the house in ages. “I stay in mostly.”

“So you like to what? Watch movies? Read?”

“Both,” I said.

He put his arm over the chair and looked up at me. “What's your favorite book?”

“Too many to mention.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Again, too many to mention but no horror or teen flicks.”

“Aren't they one and the same?” he said. “What's your favorite color?”

“Purple.”

“Favorite bug?”

“Favorite bug?” I asked, laughing.

“Yeah, which bug do you find most interesting?”

“The butterfly.”

“Purple butterfly?”

“Of course.” I touched my hair and pushed it behind my ear. What did it look like this afternoon? Did I have any lipstick left?

“What's your favorite flower?”

“Hydrangea.”

“No kidding? My grandfather buys those all the time. What's your favorite site?”

“Kites in the sky,” I said.

His mouth dropped open. “I figured you'd say the gondolas in Venice or Niagara Falls or the Eiffel Tower.”

“I've never been to those places,” I said, laughing. “Why so many questions?”

He took a drink of tea. “It's my grandfather's fault.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It's a good thing,” he said, waving his hands in the air. “It's not creepy and weird.”

I waited on my other tables and took their orders but was ever aware that TS was watching me as I moved around the dining room but I was okay with it. He was young and I was a mother. We could be friends. That would be fine. He finished his burger and ordered a piece of peanut butter pie. When that was finished he ordered a piece of hummingbird cake. “Someone doesn't want to leave,” Betty said, wiping
crumbs from the front counter. I knew he didn't want to leave and that pleased me to no end. I loved looking at and talking with him.

“Do you want any other desserts?” I asked, holding his bill in front of me.

“I didn't want the cake,” he said. He smiled at me and I laughed. “Hey.” He stopped and moved the last bite of cake around on his plate. “Is there any chance you'd like to go out with me sometime? To watch a non-horror, non-teen movie? Or maybe go to a bookstore and pick up one of the titles that are too many to mention?”

My heart sank. For all he knew I was single. No kids. No obligations. He was probably looking for fun and I wasn't much of that anymore. “Um.”

“I know I came across as a jerk the day we met. I never even asked you your name until the second day. That says a lot. I know.”

“No,” I said. “It's not that at all. It's just that I work quite a bit now because . . .”

“If you're tired we can just sit and have coffee and pie one night,” he said. “I guess that's not really all that appealing when you work in a restaurant that's known for coffee and pie.”

I laughed and he smiled. I really loved that smile. “Coffee would be nice.”

“How about the bookstore?”

“The bookstore would be nice, too,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear again.

He stood and put on his coat. “When?”

“I'll need to check my schedule. I'm trying to work a double shift as much as I can right now.”