Any Dream Will Do Read online

  Just as I suspected, it was Shay. Sarah grabbed her hand and nearly yanked her over the threshold and into the house. “I didn’t think you’d ever get here,” my daughter said, bubbling over with enthusiasm. “I’ve got everything ready in my room for you to do my hair.”

  “Hello to you, too,” Shay said, laughing.

  Sarah stopped mid-step as if she’d missed something. “You still want to fix my hair, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I brought some hair clips along.”

  “You did?” For a moment I thought Sarah was going to keel over with joy. “I haven’t had hair clips in forever.”

  “I appreciate this, Shay,” I said as she walked in front of me. “Sarah’s been counting the hours until you got here.”

  The two disappeared into the other room and the football game started. The Patriots and Seahawks were evenly matched. Mark and I were quickly involved in cheering for the Hawks. Not until halftime did I realize I hadn’t heard a peep out of Sarah or Shay.

  “Daddy, Daddy.” Sarah raced out into the living room. “Look,” she cried and thrust out her hands for me to see. “Shay and I had a spa afternoon. She brought nail polish and she painted my nails and my toes, too.”

  “You look beautiful,” I said, smiling at my daughter, who was bubbling over with excitement. She stood with her weight balanced on her heels to keep the nail polish on her toes off the carpet. “Shay did my hair, too.” She whirled around like a ballerina, her long braid twirling with her.

  “Move,” Mark shouted. “You’re blocking the television.”

  “It’s halftime,” I reminded my son.

  “Can Shay and I pop popcorn?” Sarah asked.

  “Of course. Great idea.” I wasn’t sure I had any of the microwave stuff, but I was fairly confident I had kernels.

  Looking nervous, Shay came into the living room. She rubbed her hands together as she spoke. “I hope you don’t mind my painting Sarah’s nails. She was excited and said you wouldn’t mind.”

  “It’s fine,” I assured her, more interested now that the third quarter of the game was about to start.

  “I would have asked, but it looked like you were wrapped up in the game.”

  “Not a problem.” Glancing over my shoulder, I made my way into the kitchen to show Shay where to find what she and Sarah would need for the popcorn.

  Before long the entire house was filled with the scent of popping corn, and my mouth started to water.

  Sarah brought me a large bowl and another for her brother before she and Shay joined us in the living room. Shay sat on the sofa between the two kids. Sarah leaned her head against her and Mark looked completely at ease, munching away on the popcorn.

  “What’s the score?” Shay asked, glancing toward the television.

  “The Seahawks are tied with the Patriots,” Mark supplied before I could.

  “Can you stay a little while longer?” Sarah asked.

  Shay looked to me as though seeking my approval. “Stay,” I said. Shay had managed to keep my daughter occupied for a good part of the afternoon. That had freed me up to enjoy the game and spend time with Mark. Normally Sarah would be constantly interrupting us. This was the most peaceful Seahawks game I’d enjoyed all season.

  “We win this game and we’re assured of getting into the playoffs,” I explained, leaning forward.

  “Did you notice my hair, Daddy?”

  “It looks wonderful, pumpkin.”

  —

  Halfway through the third quarter, Sarah grew bored with football. “Will you play a game with me, Shay?” she asked. “It’s one my mom and I used to play.”

  Sarah’s request caught my attention. Sarah had played Candyland with Katie and hadn’t touched the board game since Katie’s death. I waited to see if that was the one she’d bring out from her bedroom, and, sure enough, it was.

  For just a moment my chest tightened. Part of me was happy that Sarah had connected with Shay enough to play her favorite game. Another part of me heard Linda’s words of caution ringing in the back of my head. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to allow Shay to get too close to my children.

  By her own admission, Shay had made several mistakes in her life. She’d turned that around, which was wonderful, and I was pleased for her. But the test would come in the weeks that followed Shay’s graduation as she lived in the real world outside the protected one at the center.

  “Touchdown!” Mark threw his arms into the air and leaped to his feet.

  I’d been so caught up in my thoughts about Shay and Sarah that I hadn’t paid attention to what was happening on the television screen. I laughed while Mark did a happy dance around the coffee table.

  Looking up from the board game that Sarah had on the kitchen table, she rolled her eyes and said to Shay, “Men!”

  I had to laugh. It was a stirring moment. This was rare. I was smiling and happy. When I’d buried my wife I assumed this sense of contentment would be forever lost. And yet my children were content, my life was back on an even keel, and the church was prospering. It felt good. Really good.

  Shay stayed until after the football game. At the last minute the Seahawks were able to pull out a victory, which made Mark and me happy. When I saw that she had reached for her coat, I walked Shay to the front door with Sarah at my side.

  “Thank you, Shay,” my daughter whispered. She raised her hand to her head. “I never had my hair look so pretty. Can we do another spa day someday soon?”

  “Of course.” Shay smiled down at my daughter.

  Sarah compulsively threw her arms around Shay’s middle and hugged her.

  Night had settled in and the darkness struck me. I knew Shay was without wheels. “How are you getting back?” I asked.

  “Same way I got here, by bus.”

  I didn’t like the idea of her riding the bus alone at night. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Drew, it’s fine, really. I take the bus all the time. It’s safe; I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”

  Ignoring her, I turned to my children. “Grab your coats, we’re taking Shay home.”

  “Do I have to go?” Mark cried, disgruntled to be torn away from his videogame.

  “Sarah, you want to come with me?” I asked.

  “My show is on, Daddy.”

  “Drew, please,” Shay protested, “I’ll be fine.”

  “Not happening. It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for Sarah. No arguing.”

  She hesitated and then reluctantly nodded. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” I’d left the kids by themselves before, so this wasn’t anything new. If necessary, they knew how to reach me. I got my coat and car keys and called to the kids as I headed out the door. “Be good. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

  The night was colder than I expected and a chill raced up my arms. I was glad I hadn’t given in and left Shay to wait at the bus stop in this weather, which looked threatening.

  She continued to protest, but I wasn’t listening. I led the way to where I parked my car, unlocked it, and held open the passenger door for her. She went silent once she was inside the vehicle.

  I got in the driver’s side and started the engine. It took a few minutes for the heater to kick in, so I asked for her address and entered it into my GPS while we waited for the engine to warm up. Neither of us had much to say, I noticed.

  In the close confines of the car it seemed intimate with just the two of us. I glanced over at Shay and noticed she had focused her eyes on her hands, which were folded in her lap. Her head was bent forward and I saw that she was nibbling on her bottom lip. Seeing that stirred awake memories of my first dates with Katie and how it had been with us. We were both awkward with each other in the beginning.

  I forced myself to look away. Shay was nothing like Katie and I appreciated that she’d given up a large part of her Sunday to entertain Sarah. I found that I liked Shay, and not just because Sarah was fond of her. I liked he
r for myself and that surprised me.

  I hadn’t touched another woman since the moment I’d met Katie. She’d been my soulmate, the love of my life. Finding myself attracted to another woman shook me. It took me by surprise.

  I felt the sudden need to break the silence.

  “I’m grateful for everything you did for Sarah today.”

  “She’s a wonderful little girl.”

  “A bit precocious at times.” I found it was necessary to keep the conversation going, needing to keep my mind away from these alien feelings. “Did she happen to say anything about what she wanted for Christmas?”

  “Christmas was all she talked about,” she told me.

  It was apparent my daughter was a subject we were both comfortable enough to discuss. “Did she mention anything in particular?” I asked.

  “She did. She claims she’s getting too big for dolls but there’s this one Barbie doll that caught her eye.”

  I knew next to nothing about the doll market.

  Shopping for Mark was much easier for me. My son enjoyed videogames and I’d recently taught him to play chess. Mark was easy to shop for, but when it came to Sarah I was at a loss.

  Stopping at a red light, I glanced over at Shay. “Would you mind…seeing how well you know Sarah…but only if it’s convenient, if you have time…I could really use some help with my Christmas shopping, especially when it comes to Sarah.”

  Shay’s gaze flew to mine. “Sure. I guess. I mean, if you’d like.”

  “Great.” I wasn’t asking her out on a date. She was doing me a favor. That was all this was.

  After dropping her off at the tiny house where she lived among a row of other tiny houses, I headed back to the parsonage, grinning the entire way. As I returned to the house, whistling, both children glanced up at me with a look of surprise.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re smiling, Dad,” Mark commented.

  “Is that so unusual?”

  Both children continued to stare at me as if the answer was a given. I’d told Shay I’d pick her up after her shift at the diner the following afternoon and we’d head over to the mall. As I made sandwiches for dinner, I wasn’t able to keep the smile off my face.

  Monday morning I arrived at the café and noticed what looked to be someone wrapped up in a blanket, a figure of a man huddled up against the cold, sitting along the side of the building. He had a thin blanket around his shoulders and had his legs tucked up under his chin, with his head resting on his bent knees. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen this homeless man at the café. I knew he slept there because of the warm air coming up from a nearby grate.

  Sadie, another one of the servers, had shooed him away Friday last week, claiming the homeless discourage customers. I knew she had the welfare of the café in mind, but I couldn’t help remembering my own predicament when I’d been released from prison. Just over a year ago, that could have been me doing my best to sleep on the street because I had nowhere else to go.

  While Sadie was busy in the kitchen, I kept thinking about the man on the street. I didn’t want to get involved. He needed to be gone. Half angry with myself, I poured a cup of coffee, paid for it myself, and took it out to him.

  “Here,” I said gruffly, shoving the cup of coffee at him.

  He looked up and tossed aside the blanket, probably thinking I was giving him the coffee as incentive to leave.

  “I’m moving,” he muttered, not making eye contact.

  “Don’t leave on my account. The coffee is to help you keep warm.” I squatted down so I could see his face. His eyes had bags under them, as if he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a good long while. His face was dirty and he needed a shave. “I added sugar and a little cream. Hope you like it that way.”

  He eyed me skeptically. “You put anything else in there?”

  He was afraid I was trying to drug him or something. “No. Just sugar and cream. My name is Shay. I work here at the café.”

  “I’m Richard.” He took the foam cup from me, tasted it, and regarded me suspiciously. “Why you doing this?”

  I shrugged and figured he deserved the truth. “Not so long ago I was about to be homeless. I’m not and I’m grateful.”

  He nodded, holding on to the cup with both hands. “Coffee tastes good. Thank you.”

  “You eaten lately?” I asked.

  “I’m okay. I’ll head to Sally’s for breakfast.”

  “Sally’s?” I didn’t know of any restaurant in the area by that name.

  “The Salvation Army. We call it Sally’s around here.”

  That explained it. “You take care.”

  He nodded and saluted me with the cup. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I headed back into The Corner Café and found Sadie waiting for me, hands braced against her hips. I respected Sadie; she called it like she saw it and didn’t take any guff from the customers or the staff. We worked well together.

  “You’re encouraging that old man to hang around here,” she said, cutting me with a look.

  “Just bought him a cup of coffee. In case you didn’t notice, it’s cold out there.”

  “I noticed.” Glancing over her shoulder, she looked into the kitchen. “Don’t you let Frankie know what you’re doing. He doesn’t take kindly to the homeless hanging around here.”

  “Gotcha,” I whispered back.

  Sadie started filling the napkin dispensers at the counter. “That soft heart of yours is going to be a problem. You can’t save the world, Shay.”

  “True,” I agreed, “but I can give one old man a cup of coffee.”

  Sadie threw back her head and let out a roar of a laugh. The door opened and we had our first customer of the morning. We did a bustling business between six and nine, both of us running our feet off.

  I didn’t have time to think of anything else other than getting those breakfast platters out while the food was hot. At ten-thirty, business had slowed down to a trickle. It was the break Sadie and I needed before getting hit with the lunch crowd.

  Frankie, the owner, had a reputation for serving comfort food and for giving customers their money’s worth. One of his breakfasts would feed me for three meals. My one meal a day came from the café and I made sure it lasted. I was saving my money for business classes. Tips were decent, and collecting a paycheck helped me meet expenses.

  “What are you doing for Christmas?” Sadie asked, while resting her feet and sipping a cup of coffee. Because she was older and had seniority, she got the first coffee break.

  “I’ll be with friends.” Lilly Palmer had invited me to join her family. I’d hardly known what to say when she’d asked me to come to her house. The invitation had been unexpected. It showed her belief in me that she was willing to open her home and introduce me to her family. Her trust was a gift, same as it had been with Drew and his children. It made me more determined than ever not to disappoint her.

  After my own break, which was shorter than I would have liked, the lunch crowd started to arrive. Frankie baked his own bread, and his sandwiches were some of the most popular items on the menu. I was sure the special, his meatloaf sandwich, would sell out before noon.

  I served the counter while Sadie and Alice managed the floor. As soon as one seat emptied, someone else took the spot. After removing the dirty dishes and wiping the area clean, I looked up to greet my new customer.

  Drew.

  I nearly dropped the water glass, and right away my heart started this crazy staccato beat that echoed in my ears.

  “Hi,” I said, trying desperately to hide my nervousness.

  “Hi.” He reached behind the sugar canister for the plastic-coated menu.

  “What can I get you to drink?” I asked.

  “Coffee.”

  “You need cream?”

  “No, thanks.”

  I poured him a cup and returned the glass pot to the heater. The ding behind me told me an order was up and I quickly t
urned, hoping it was one of mine. I needed an excuse to move away and calm my pounding heart. Unfortunately, it was Alice’s order.

  “What’s the soup today?” Drew asked.

  “Cream of broccoli.”

  He scrunched up his nose. “How’s the chili?”

  “I haven’t had any complaints.” I hadn’t sampled it myself, but it appeared to be a popular menu item.

  “Anything you’d care to recommend?”

  “Sandwiches are popular,” I told him. “Frankie bakes the bread himself. Today’s special is a meatloaf sandwich.”

  Drew nodded and I reached for my ordering pad and the pencil tucked behind my ear. “I’ll give the chili a try.”

  “How about some cornbread with that?” I asked. Sadie had been after me to upsell as much as possible.

  “Is it homemade?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Frankie does all the baking here.”

  “Then the cornbread it is.”

  “Great,” I said. I tore the order off the pad, placed it on the circular device, and whirled it to be sure Frankie and Jim, his assistant, had it in plain view.

  While I waited for Drew’s chili and cornbread to come up, I gave the man two stools down from Drew his check and collected the dirty dishes from the customer at the far end of the counter. The whole time I worked, my hands trembled as if this was my first day.

  The kitchen had Drew’s order up in minutes. I knew it wouldn’t take long. I delivered it with the plate of cornbread and brought him the dish with foil-wrapped pats of butter.

  Noticing that his coffee cup was half empty, I reached for the coffeepot and automatically filled it.

  “Are you still willing to go shopping with me later this afternoon?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  “What time do you get off?”

  “I can be ready to leave here by two-fifteen.”

  “Okay, I’ll stop by and get you then.”

  I hesitated. I’d rather not leave from the café, especially wearing my uniform. “Would it be all right if I went home and changed clothes first?”

  He nodded. “Sure. You want me to pick you up there?”