The Greatest Gift Read online

  She stared back at him with a racing heart and breathlessness that she hadn’t felt since her teens.

  He bent, hesitantly, giving her plenty of time to back away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. He brushed his mouth tenderly across her lips and heard her soft sigh. He lifted his head, smiling. He felt as if he could float. “Dessert,” he whispered wickedly.

  She laughed and blushed, again. He touched her cheek with just the tips of his fingers, and the smile was still there.

  “I’ll look forward to Sunday,” he said after a minute, and grinned as he got into his car. “Don’t forget,” he called before he started the engine.

  “As if I could,” she murmured to herself.

  She stood and watched him drive away. He waved when he got to the street.

  Mary walked back into the room. Three pair of curious eyes were staring at her.

  “He’s just my friend,” she said defensively.

  “He’s nice,” Bob said. “And we like him. So it’s okay if you like him, too. Right?” he asked Ann.

  “Right!” she echoed enthusiastically.

  Mary laughed as she took little John from Ann, who was holding him. She cuddled the little boy and kissed his chubby little cheek.

  “I’m glad you like him,” was all she said. “Now, let’s see if we can get our things ready for tomorrow, okay?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MARY FELT LIKE A NEW WOMAN as she went to her job the next day. It was too soon to become romantically involved with any man, at the moment. But Matt was a wonderful person and she was drawn to him. Her children seemed to feel a connection to him as well, which was terrific.

  One of her employers, a middle-aged society hostess named Billie West, was married to old money and dripping diamonds. She was particularly interested in Mary’s project.

  “You mean these restaurants are actually willing to just give you food?” she exclaimed.

  “At the end of the business day,” Mary replied with a smile. “It’s only the leftovers, not the full meals.”

  “Oh. I see.” The woman shook her head. “And you call them up and they give it to you.”

  “Well, I do have to pick it up and deliver it to people.”

  “Deliver it? Hmm. Is Chez Bob one of your clients?” she persisted.

  “No, ma’am. I asked, but they weren’t interested.”

  The older woman smiled. “Suppose I ask the owner for you?”

  Mary was surprised. The elderly woman wasn’t usually talkative. Often, she wasn’t at home when Mary cleaned for her, using a key that was kept in a secret place. “You would do that?” Mary asked.

  “There are two others whose owners I know, Mary’s Porch and the Bobwhite Grill. I could ask them, too.”

  Mary just stared at her.

  “You’re suspicious,” the blonde replied, nodding. “Yes, I don’t blame you. I’m filthy rich. Why should I care if a lot of society’s dropouts starve. That’s what you’re wondering, isn’t it?”

  Mary perceived that only honesty would do in this situation. “Yes, ma’am, that’s what I’m wondering,” she said quietly.

  Billie burst out laughing. “Honey, I grew up on the back streets of Chicago,” she said surprisingly. “My old man was drunk more than he was sober, and my mother worked three jobs just so my brothers and I could have one meal a day. She could barely pay the rent. When I was sixteen, she died. It was up to me to take care of Dad, who had liver cancer by then, along with three young boys and get them and myself through school.” She sat down on the sofa and crossed her long legs. “I wasn’t smart, but I had a nice figure and good skin. I had a friend who was a photographer. He shot a portfolio for me and showed it to a magazine editor he did layouts for. I was hired to be a model.”

  That was news. Mary had never heard the woman speak of her background at all.

  “Overnight, I was rolling in money,” her employer recalled. “I got the boys through school and never looked back. Dad died the second year I was modeling. The third, I married Jack West, who had even more money than I did. But I never forgot how I grew up, either. I donate to the less fortunate on a regular basis.” She stared at Mary curiously. “Your other client Debbie and I are friends. She said that after your divorce was final, you were on the streets with three kids to raise. And despite that, you were out begging food from restaurants and delivering it to people in shelters. I must admit, it didn’t seem possible.”

  Mary smiled. “You mean, because we were in such bad shape ourselves?”

  “Yes.”

  “I never learned how kind people could be until I hit rock bottom,” Mary explained patiently. “Or how much poverty and need there is out there, on the streets. There are disabled people, handicapped people, paraplegics and diabetics and people dying of cancer who have nothing.” Mary took a long breath. “You know, handing out a little good food might not seem like much to do for people in those situations. But it gives them hope. It shows them that they’re important, that they’re valuable to someone.” It helps them to see that everyone doesn’t turn away and avoid looking at them.”

  “I know what you mean,” the woman said quietly as she got to her feet. “I’ll make those calls. Have you got a way to pick up the food? What am I saying? You must have, or you wouldn’t be adding restaurants to your list.”

  “The shelter where I started out was given a pickup truck. We use that.”

  “We?”

  “I have a few volunteers who help me,” Mary said. “And my children, of course.”

  “How do you manage to do that and keep your children in school?”

  “Oh, not just in school,” Mary assured her. “One of them plays football and one is in band. I think it’s important for them to learn teamwork.”

  The other woman smiled. “Smart. I’ve always said that baseball kept my younger brothers out of jail. One of them plays for the Mets,” she added, “and the other two are assistant managers on different ball teams.”

  “You must be proud of them,” Mary commented.

  “Yes, I am. I helped keep them out of trouble. Could you use another volunteer? I don’t just have sports cars in the garage; I’ve got that huge SUV out back. It will hold a heck of a lot of food.”

  “You mean it?”

  “I’m bored to death, alone with my fancy house and my fast cars and my money,” Billie said blandly. “I don’t have any kids and my husband is working himself to death trying to enlarge a company that’s already too big. If I don’t find some sort of useful purpose, I’ll sit here alone long enough to become an alcoholic. I saw my Dad go out that way. I’m not going to.”

  Mary grinned, feeling a kinship with the woman for the first time. “We all meet at the 12th Street shelter about five in the afternoon.”

  “Then I’ll see you at five at the shelter,” Billie said, smiling back.

  “Thanks,” Mary said huskily.

  “We all live on the same planet. I guess that makes us family, despite the ticky little details that separate us.”

  “I’m beginning to feel the same way.”

  The two women shared a smile before Mary got back to work. It was so incredible, she thought, how you could work for somebody and not know anything about them at all. So often, people seemed as obvious as editorial cartoons. Then you got to know them, and they were really complex novels with endless plot twists.

  * * *

  Not only did Billie show up with her SUV at the shelter, but one of Matt’s colleagues from the police force, a tall, young man named Chad, drove up in another SUV and offered to help the group transport the food.

  It was getting complicated, because there were now so many restaurants contributing to the program. Mary had been jotting down everything in a small notebook, so that she could refer back to it, but the notebook was filling up fast.

  “We’ve got a small laptop computer with a printer that was donated last week,” Bev mentioned. “We really should get all this information into the computer
, so that you can keep up with pickup and delivery locations and the time frames.”

  Mary agreed. “That would be nice. But I don’t know how to use a computer,” she added with a grimace. “We were never able to afford one.”

  “I work with them all the time,” Matt said with a lazy smile. “Suppose I come over an hour before we start tomorrow and key in the data?”

  “That would be great, Matt!” Mary exclaimed.

  “It shouldn’t be too difficult,” he added. “If I can read your handwriting, that is,” he mused.

  “Well,” Mary began worriedly.

  “Could you get off an hour early and have Smith watch the kids for you?” Matt persisted.

  “She works for me tomorrow, and sure she can get off early,” Billie volunteered, stepping forward. “Hi. I’m Billie West. Don’t let the glitter fool you,” she added when the others gave her odd looks. “I came up in Chicago, on the wrong side of the tracks.”

  The odd looks relaxed into smiles.

  “I’m Bev, I run the shelter. Welcome aboard,” Bev said, shaking hands. “That’s Sam Harlowe over there, and this is Matt Clark. Matt’s a police officer.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Billie said. “Thanks for letting me and my SUV join up.”

  “You and your SUV are most welcome,” Mary replied. “And thanks in advance for the hour off.”

  “Where do we start?” Billie asked.

  Now that they’d added three restaurants to the ten they already had, Mary realized the waiting time and the packaging of the donated food once it was picked up was going to pose a problem.

  “This isn’t going to work,” she told Matt while they were briefly alone in the shelter’s kitchen, finishing up filling the last containers of food. “We really need one more vehicle so that we can split the list three ways and each truck will have a third of the restaurants to pick up from.”

  “Bev said that she’s already had calls from six more restaurants that heard about your project and want to contribute,” Matt told her. “Your little project is turning into a business.”

  “But there aren’t enough people,” Mary said worriedly. “Not nearly enough.”

  “You need to talk to someone about the future of this project,” Matt pointed out. “You can do a great job if you just have more volunteers. It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing. You can’t let it overwhelm you.”

  “It already has,” she said with a husky laugh.

  “It shows,” Matt said with some concern. “You look worn-out, Mary, and I know you can’t be getting much rest at night. Not with a toddler.”

  “John’s a good boy, and the kids are great about helping look after him,” Mary said defensively.

  “Yes, but you still have to be responsible for all of them. That includes getting them to and from practice and games, overseeing homework, listening to problems they have at school,” he said gently. “That’s a heck of a responsibility for one woman, all by itself. But you’ve got a full-time job, and you’re spending every night running around Phoenix to restaurants and then distributing food until late. Even with your energy and strength of will, you must see that you can’t keep this up indefinitely.”

  Until he said it, she hadn’t realized how thin she was spreading herself. She was beginning to have some chest pain that was unexpected and alarming. She hadn’t mentioned it, thinking that perhaps if she ignored it, it would go away. But that wasn’t happening.

  “I can do it as long as I need to,” she said firmly.

  “You’re like me, aren’t you?” he mused, smiling. “You’re stubborn.”

  “Yes, I think I am,” she agreed, smiling back. He made her feel young. He was like a sip of cold water on a hot day. He was invigorating.

  “I have ulterior motives, you know,” he commented. “I’m fond of you. I don’t want you to keel over from stress.”

  She was touched. “I promise not to keel over,” she told him.

  He signed. “Okay. That will have to do for now. But you really should think about delegating more. And eventually, you’re going to need some agency to help you oversee the project. It’s outgrowing you by the day.”

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” she said.

  “Talk to Bev,” he told her. “She’s been in this sort of work for a long time, and she knows everybody else who’s involved in it. She may have some ideas.”

  “I’ll do that,” Mary promised.

  “Meanwhile,” he drawled, “don’t forget Sunday.”

  She had forgotten. Her wide-eyed stare made him burst out laughing.

  “Well, that puts me in my place,” he said with a grin. “I’ll have to stop strutting and thinking I’m God’s gift to overworked womanhood.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re a nice guy, Matt. I’d only forgotten today. I’d have remembered when I went home, because it’s all the kids talk about.”

  “So I made an impression, did I?”

  “A big one,” she agreed. “They like you.”

  “I’m glad. I like them. A lot.”

  “Speaking of the movies, it turns out Tammy has a prior commitment and can’t watch the baby after all. Looks like he’d be joining us. Hope that’s okay.”

  “No problem,” Matt reassured her.

  “Hey, are you guys coming, or what?” Sam called from the parking lot. “We’re running behind schedule.”

  “Sorry, Sam,” Mary said at once, preceding Matt out the door. “Let’s go!”

  They had a routine of sorts by now, through the various shelters and homeless camps. People came out to meet them when they saw the headlights, and there were beaming faces when the smell of food wafted out of the containers that were presented to the staff for their residents.

  “We never had stuff like this to eat before,” one disabled young woman commented to Mary at the women’s shelter. “You sure are nice to do this for us.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Mary said, searching for the right words.

  The young woman smiled and walked away to the kitchen as quickly as she could with her crutches.

  “That’s Anna. She has multiple sclerosis,” the shelter manager told Mary quietly. “Usually she’s in a wheelchair, but it got stolen two days ago when she left it outside the stall in a rest room a block away.” She shook her head. “Imagine, somebody stealing a woman’s wheelchair and nobody noticing!”

  “How did she get here?” Mary wondered.

  “One of our regulars saw her holding on to walls trying to walk. She came back here and borrowed our spare crutches that I keep in the office for Anna. She’s been using them ever since, but it’s hard for her to walk with wasted muscles.”

  “Is there some sort of program that could get her a wheelchair?”

  The woman grimaced. “She’d probably qualify if she could get into the system. That’s the problem. We have to have a caseworker come here and fill out forms, then there’s a waiting period, and she might or might not get accepted on the first try. Bureaucracy is slow.”

  Mary sighed. “If I had the money, I’d buy her a wheelchair,” she said.

  “Me, too,” the shelter manager said quietly.

  They exchanged glances.

  “No matter how much we do, it’s like filling up a barrel with a teaspoon, isn’t it?” Mary asked. “There’s so much need, and so few people trying to meet it. Federal and state and local programs do what they can. But there are limits to any budget, and so many people fall through the cracks.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I found that out the hard way,” Mary said.

  “You?” the manager exclaimed.

  “I’m living in a motel room with three kids, holding down a full-time job, six days a week, sometimes seven, and I do this after I get off, every day,” Mary told her. “Because no matter how bad things are for me, everybody I meet in these shelters is so much worse off.”

  “My dear,” the manager said, lost for words.

  “It’s been a learni
ng experience for all of us,” Mary told her. “We’ve learned so much about human nature since we began this project. And despite our own circumstances, people have just been so kind to us,” she emphasized. “I never knew how kind total strangers could be until we ended up like this.”

  “I like the feeling I get when I know I’ve helped someone out of a particularly bad spot, given them hope,” the manager said with a warm smile.

  “I do, too. It makes it all worthwhile.”

  “And you have three kids.” She shook her head. “I only had one, and he’s got a wife and three kids of his own. We had a good home and a comfortable income.” She glanced at Mary. “You’re unbelievable.”

  Mary laughed. “Maybe I’m just out of my mind,” she suggested.

  The other woman laughed, too. “If you are, I wish we had a hundred more just like you. Thanks, Mary. Thanks a million.”

  “It’s my pleasure. And I mean that.” Mary smiled.

  The next day Billie let Mary off an hour early with no argument at all. “And I’ll see you at the shelter in an hour,” she added. “You know, this has given me a new lease on life. I’ve been so depressed lately. It was time I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started being useful for a change. I’m very grateful to you for helping me.”

  “We’re all grateful to you for helping us,” Mary replied. “And I’ll see you at the shelter at five.”

  She was still driving the car that Debbie had loaned her, and Tammy had demanded that Mary let her keep John during the day.

  “I have all this room and only two kids,” Tammy had argued. “And both of them love having John around to play with. Besides, I heard from a reliable source that Jack left town so there’s no danger that he’s going to track the kids down anytime soon. It’s only for a couple of weeks, until you get some sort of system worked out. So humor me!”

  Mary had, with more gratitude than she could express.

  She picked up John at Tammy’s and went with him to the shelter where Matt was ready to feed information into the computer.

  Two of the shelter workers came right up to take John.