“Nothing,” I answered. The man’s face remained rigid, but when I looked at the woman and repeated, “Absolutely nothing,” a spark of hope ignited in her lifeless blue eyes. At one time she might have been pretty, but hard times had obviously taken a toll on her. Her fingers clenched and unclenched as her gaze darted between the grocery bag and me.
“Go ahead. Take it, please.” I nodded, stepping back.
“Can I, Mama?” The little girl, engulfed in what had to be her mother’s coat, hat, and gloves, stared up at the woman with the biggest brown saucers I’d ever seen, as though I’d just given her the most valuable present in the world.
In a way, I guess I had.
The mother nodded, and I swallowed another lump. The little girl carefully opened the paper bag and pulled out the cookies then gasped so loud it echoed off the warehouse behind her. The woman stared at all the food for a long moment, her brow buckling, then she stepped back and softly called to the others. “It’s okay. Come get your share.”
She didn’t take a single item for herself, even though her tattered, threadbare clothes hung from her haggard frame. She had to be hungry and cold, but still she stood back, letting others go first. Whatever had happened to her had to be so much worse than being used by a man and embarrassed by naked pictures of herself on the Internet, yet she hadn’t grown mean or selfish. She’d kept her family together and found a way to survive.
My troubles were insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I pulled off my hat and mittens and handed them to the little boy, who snatched them out of my hands and ran away as though he thought I would change my mind. Then I slipped off my Eskimo parka and wrapped it around the woman’s shoulders. She hopped nearly a foot and then blinked furiously but not enough to stop a single tear from rolling down her cheek.
“Th-Thank you,” she said in barely more than a whisper.
My own eyes filled, and I gave her a wobbly smile as I hugged my middle, shivering slightly in the February night air. “Y-You’re welcome. Now if I had a pitcher of Bahama Mamas and some mac and cheese, I could really show you a good time.” I chuckled, but my laugh sounded forced to my own ears.
“Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no Labamba Ramas, but I’ll take that bag of dried fruit,” a bag lady said, scratching her head under a tattered cap as she snagged the fruit. “Need some meat on my bones for my man over there.” She jerked her head in the direction of a cardboard tent housing the wino in the moth-eaten coat. “Gotta keep warm, ya know.” She shot me a toothless grin and then shuffled off to crawl under the tent and snuggle up to ‘her man.’
I couldn’t help grinning back. Hey, whatever works, I thought, amazed that even someone in this bad a situation could find someone to snuggle up to.
The hard man added another piece of wood to the fire. I started to walk away, almost forgetting why I was there in the first place, when the brief flame illuminated something shiny over by the warehouse. I changed directions, edging closer to the entrance, when a paper bag with a wine bottle sticking out caught my attention. Only the hand holding the bottle had brown spots and wrinkles, and black leather encased the arm attached to the hand. Dylan’s black leather. But that wasn’t Dylan.
I blinked. So he had seen me leave my apartment and followed me just as I’d suspected. Then another thought hit me. If Dylan gave his coat to Mr. Wino, then what was he wearing, and who in God’s name was Ms. Toothless Bag Lady snuggling with?
I blinked again. No way. I spun around and studied the tent closer. The pointy tip of one monstrous snakeskin boot poked out from beneath the end of one smelly, flea-ridden coat.
Snort! Priceless. Absolutely priceless. Lack of sleep and flea bites. Things had turned out better than I’d expected. Now that I’d done some good, I felt perfectly justified over the turn of events.
“I’d say that’s enough payback for one night, wouldn’t you?” whispered a male voice beside me.
I jumped and then looked into the face of a dirty bum. Not Dylan, but a face way too full and healthy to be a real bum. The phony crony winked, and I grinned wide, feeling a whole lot better now.
“It’s a start,” I said. “Just a start.”
***
Riiiiiing!
“What, who?” I pried one eye open.
Riiiiiing!
“Who, what?” I pried the other eye open.
Riiiiiing!
I uncrossed my eyes and focused on the clock. Six A.M.! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, who called at six A.M.?
Riiiiiing!
“Oh, shut up, already, I’m coming.” I struggled out of bed, checked the caller ID, then snatched the phone off the counter in the kitchen. “What.”