Any Dream Will Do

by Debbie Macomber

  Sensing my distress, Mark sat down next to me and patted my knee. “Girls are hard to talk to. I know.”

  Grinning, I nodded. “You’re wise for your age.”

  “What did you do when you had trouble talking to Mom?” he asked. “That might help.”

  The fact that I was getting advice about girls from a thirteen-year-old spoke volumes. Certainly, Katie and I had had our share of differences through the years. One trick that seemed to work when she was hurt or upset was to kiss her. I strongly suspected that wouldn’t work with Shay. She was liable to punch me if I tried.

  —

  Sleep didn’t come easy that night. I didn’t expect to see Shay at church the next morning, and I was right.

  Knowing I was heavyhearted, Sarah stood at my side following the service after the church had emptied. As was her habit, Linda Kincaid was one of the last to leave. She approached me with a concerned look.

  “You weren’t yourself this morning, Drew. Something troubling you?”

  Before I could answer, Sarah popped up. “He had a fight with Shay.”

  Linda’s eye shot to mine. “I don’t think I realized the two of you were involved.”

  “It wasn’t a fight so much as a misunderstanding.” I’d unintentionally hurt Shay and it bothered me to the point that even my congregation noticed something was wrong.

  Linda patted my shoulder sympathetically. “It’s probably for the best.”

  Her comment stunned me. “Why is that?” I asked, ready to defend Shay and needing to bite my tongue to keep from doing so. Linda had no idea how far Shay had come, the inner strength the woman had shown in the last year. She wasn’t the same woman I’d met all those months ago, seeking warmth in the back of the church, defiant and ready to lash out at the world for the unfairness of life. She was stronger now, finding her way, and I admired her more than any woman I had met since Katie. Knowing I’d foolishly lost her because of a simple misunderstanding, a lack of communication on my part, didn’t sit right with me. I felt off-kilter and lost as to how to make this right.

  “Why?” Linda repeated. “Drew, really, I know you like Shay. I do, too, but you can’t deny her past.”

  “I like Shay,” Sarah piped up. “She did my hair.”

  Right away I could tell that Linda disapproved of Shay having anything to do with the children. She didn’t need to say it. I saw it in her eyes.

  “That’s not how I look at people, Linda,” I said, doing my best to keep the emotion out of my voice. “Shay has come a long way, and as Christians we should be the first to encourage and support her.”

  As I knew she would, Linda took a moment to consider my words. “You’re right, Drew. I apologize.”

  Sarah tugged at my sleeve. “Daddy, that’s what you need to do with Shay. You need to apologize. Tell her you’re sorry and that you’ll never date Mrs. Rowden again.”

  I wrapped my hand around my daughter’s shoulder and wished with everything in me that Shay would listen to my apology.

  Linda left and I closed the church. As we walked to the house, Sarah had another idea.

  “Can we take Shay for Chinese food? She likes almond chicken, but let her use a fork and don’t mention chopsticks.”

  “Maybe that will work.”

  As we approached the house, Sarah looked up at me, frowning. “If Shay is mad at you, does that mean she’s mad at me, too?”

  “No, pumpkin.”

  “Will she braid my hair again?”

  “I don’t know.” It wasn’t in my heart to tell my daughter it was doubtful.

  Sadness settled over me and I didn’t know if I was willing to accept that Shay was out of our lives. The problem was, I didn’t know how to make things right with her.

  I attended worship service with Lilly Palmer on Sunday morning at her church. If she suspected anything was different with me, she didn’t ask and I didn’t volunteer. If she was waiting for me to spill my heart, then she had a long wait. From the time I could remember, men had used and abused me. I’d come too far for this. No way in hell was I going to let it continue. If I talked to anyone about what had happened between Drew and me it would be Lilly, but I wasn’t ready to tell anyone.

  What had I been thinking? No way was someone like Drew ever going to be interested in someone like me. It was time I put on my big-girl panties and accepted that I’d been living in a fantasy world. I’d been entertaining visions of sugarplums and romance because his little girl liked the way I braided her hair.

  What shocked me was that I’d believed I’d come so far only to realize how little progress I’d made. Well, no more. I’d wised up. Never again was I going to allow a man to mistreat me. I’d walked down that path for a good part of my life and it was over. I was wiser now. Stronger. The key was to remember the lessons I’d learned at the Hope Center and use them.

  What surprised me was how quickly I’d reverted to my old ways when I’d assumed a man was interested in me. Despite all the texts, secret smiles, and gentle looks, Drew would never be romantically interested in me. I got it, I really did. But I should have gotten it a whole lot sooner.

  When Sarah mentioned that her father had taken another woman on a date for lunch, I nearly blew a gasket. If I needed any evidence that I had grown emotionally in the last year, it was that I’d managed to keep my cool until Drew arrived home.

  He’d been gone nearly three hours. He and his date must have enjoyed quite a lunch. Well, good for him. From what I understood, he’d been a widower for four years. It was time he got back in the game and started dating again. I wished him well.

  —

  Friday night was another Search & Rescue event with Seattle Gospel Mission. Lilly asked me to accompany her and I agreed, even though I had to be up by four-thirty to get to the café in time for the morning shift.

  I left the café, ready to head home and prepare for a cold night on the street, seeking out the homeless to deliver food and hot drinks. I noticed Richard hanging outside the restaurant.

  He wouldn’t be there if something wasn’t right. “Problem?” I asked, thinking Chuck might need help. His friend couldn’t stay away from the bottle.

  His eyes grew sad. “Not good news, I’m afraid. I think I might have heard something about your brother.”

  My heart slammed hard against my rib cage. “I don’t want to hear it,” I said, and then I couldn’t help myself, I had to know. “Is he alive?”

  “What I heard is he’s doing hardcore drugs, selling and using.”

  This was exactly what I’d expected. Best I keep him out of my life entirely before he dragged me down to his level. I’d learned my lesson with my brother and I didn’t need that kind of trouble in my life.

  Before I could say anything more, Richard continued. “Person I spoke to said it’d been three months since he was last seen. Dwayne thinks your brother might have drifted south to California. Warmer there in the wintertime.”

  Probably for the best. “Thanks for letting me know, Richard. It’s better for the both of us that we don’t have any contact with each other.” Rather than dwell on what was happening to Caden, I abruptly changed the subject. “Will I see you tonight?”

  “Yup. Both Chuck and I will be out.”

  “I’ll look for you.”

  Richard glanced down at the sidewalk. “You’d already guessed your brother was using, though, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “He was using before I went to prison. It’s better for me that I keep him out of my life. He messed me up once and I won’t let him use me again.”

  “You’re a smart girl. You want me to let you know if I hear anything more?”

  “I don’t know…probably not.”

  “Your choice,” Richard said, and then his eyes filled with concern. “You ain’t been yourself all week. Something up I don’t know about?” he asked. “Seems like the light’s gone out of your eyes and there’s a hurt radiating off you like you got blisters on your heels.”

  S
adie had been saying basically the same thing. It seemed I wasn’t nearly as clever at hiding my feelings as I thought. “I’m fine, Richard, just had a bit of a disappointment is all; nothing important. I’ll be over it soon enough.”

  “Over it?” Richard asked. “Or over him?”

  I decided to leave the question unanswered. “I’ll see you later tonight,” I said as I started toward the bus stop.

  —

  The Seattle Gospel Mission’s Search & Rescue nights were done with vans that traveled to areas where the homeless congregated. As soon as the easily recognizable van rolled into an area, people appeared. The winter night was bitter cold and I’d wrapped up as warmly as I could. We’d stopped at a freeway underpass, and I’d given my scarf to one woman who had to have been close to my age.

  All too soon another woman appeared, and I offered her hot cocoa and a wrapped sandwich.

  “Do you need anything else?” I asked after she drank the hot drink and took the sandwich.

  “You have any candy?”

  I knew candy was a popular item because the sugar rush helped when coming down off a high.

  “Sorry, we ran out of sweets earlier.” I noticed her hands were badly chapped from the cold. I had lotion and wipes with me and offered her one, which she took and used to clean her hands.

  “Thanks,” she said, using a fresh wipe over her face. “This winter has been hard on my hands and face.”

  I reached for her hand, spread some lotion on the top, and rubbed it into the red, cracked skin.

  “Should have a place of my own soon,” she said as I continued to massage her hands. “Never thought I’d be on the streets this long. Gonna find a place soon, though.”

  “Good. You need socks?” I asked her.

  “Not me, but Laurie could use a pair,” she said and glanced over her shoulder. “The only shoes she’s got are too big and her feet get cold, especially on nights like this.”

  “No doubt. Wait here and I’ll get you those socks.”

  I found the kindness factor among those who lived on the streets humbling. For the most part the homeless never took what they didn’t need. Often, if they knew of someone else who was doing without, then they would accept it to hand off to another.

  “I’m Shay,” I told my newfound friend.

  “Irene,” she answered.

  I removed my gloves and gave them to her. “These will help keep your hands warm,” I said, pressing them into her palms.

  Irene looked up. “But they’re your gloves.”

  “I have another pair. Take them, please.”

  “Thanks.” Her voice was warm with gratitude.

  “I’ll look for you again,” I said, and then remembered what she’d said. “That is, if you haven’t found an apartment.”

  “Right,” she said, grinning now. She accepted the wrapped sandwich and the socks for her friend and continued back to where her tent was tucked under the freeway overpass.

  I found it curious that those who lived on the street rarely thought of themselves as homeless, and Irene was a good example. They considered it a temporary situation, a transitional period when they did the best they could with what they had. Most everyone I spoke to mentioned that it would only be a matter of time before they had a permanent address.

  If I hadn’t met Drew that day, I easily might have ended up in one of these camps myself. If for nothing else, I would always be grateful to him for the guidance he’d given me. Because I’d found my way into Hope Center I’d never had to live on the street, but if I had, my attitude would have been the same. I would have considered it a temporary situation just until I was on my feet financially.

  At eleven, we were scheduled to meet up with another van at a recently established tent city. I knew this was the area where Richard and Chuck were most often found.

  Sure enough, the two men were waiting for me when the van arrived. The second van hadn’t made an appearance yet but would be by shortly.

  “We spread the word you were coming,” Richard said, greeting me as I climbed out of the vehicle.

  I could see that was the case by the number of people who had already lined up for food, water, and clothing. Bottled water was the most requested item, as there was no running water in the tent cities.

  “If you want, we can escort you into the camp,” Chuck offered. Volunteers were never to enter a homeless camp alone. We always went with a partner. Over time I’d learned that our work was about building relationships. We were welcomed and it had nothing to do with what we brought.

  “Sure, that would be great,” I told Richard’s friend. The other man shuffled along with Richard. I’d learned that Chuck was a man of few words.

  Lilly Palmer ventured into the campsite with me while Richard and Chuck accompanied us as if they were our bodyguards. We stopped along the way to chat with a few others. Richard called out to people, introducing us.

  As we started back to the street, I saw that the second van had arrived but didn’t have time to greet the other volunteers. Both Lilly and I were busy passing out sandwiches and hot chocolate. When we finished, I gave out the wipes and rubbed lotion into the winter-chapped hands of those who needed it.

  When I felt someone behind me, I looked over my shoulder and saw that it was Drew. Seeing him was completely unexpected, and I nearly dropped the container of lotion. He set his hands on my shoulders, leaned forward, and whispered in my ear.

  “We are going to talk, so don’t even try to put me off again.”

  I stiffened and tried to jerk his hands free of my shoulders.

  “Just so you know,” he continued, “my hot date last Saturday was with an eighty-five-year-old woman.”

  My mouth dropped so fast and hard it was a wonder I didn’t dislocate my jaw. Tingling started in my feet that had nothing to do with the cold. I felt light-headed, as if my blood pressure had suddenly dropped significantly. I realized it was relief I was feeling. I’d convinced myself any explanation he offered wouldn’t make a difference. I hated the sense of hope that instantly filled me and how susceptible I was to Drew.

  “I told Lilly Palmer I’d drive you home, so wait for me.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I insisted, needing to be strong. I was finished allowing men to dictate how I lived my life.

  A hurt look instantly bled into his eyes. “Please.”

  I wavered, uncertain. I’d been strong all week—strong and miserable. From the pleading look he gave me, I knew he’d been just as depressed.

  “Okay,” I agreed, unsure if I was doing the right thing.

  His relief was immediate. “Thank you.”

  We didn’t get a chance to talk until after the vans returned to the Gospel Mission complex. By then it was after midnight and I had to be at the café early that morning. I’d be lucky to get in four hours sleep, if that. No matter. I needed to see Drew, to talk to him, to straighten out this misunderstanding.

  I found him waiting for me in the parking lot. We were the only two volunteers who hadn’t left.

  He stood beside his vehicle, waiting for me to join him.

  When I was at his car, all we seemed able to do was stare at each other. This week had felt like the longest of my life. Longer even than my first seven days in prison. I’d been strong, but my heart hurt with the knowledge I would never be part of his life. I hadn’t realized how much Drew had come to mean to me.

  After a few minutes, his cold hands cupped my face and I realized that, like me, he’d probably given his gloves away. Before I could form a clear thought, he lowered his mouth to mine as if he couldn’t wait a second longer.

  I’d fantasized what it would be like to have Drew kiss me, how I would feel if it were ever to happen. Nothing could have prepared me for the strength, the intensity, the beauty of his kiss. His lips were as cold as his hands, but the minute they touched mine, I felt a warmth spread through me like water soaking into a sponge. His touch. His kiss. Everything about him was beautiful.

>   I parted my lips to him and he groaned softly, deepening the kiss. Wanting to be closer, needing my arms around him, I circled his waist. This felt so good, wrapped in a cocoon of gentle sensation.

  When he broke off the kiss, he held me, my head tucked beneath his chin. “We probably should have talked first,” he whispered, “but if I had to wait a second longer to kiss you I think I would have gone crazy.”

  I found it impossible to speak. I was surprised at how much I longed for his kiss and how much it meant to me.

  He rubbed his chin over the top of my head. I’d given away my hat along with my gloves before half the night was over. It appeared Drew had, too.

  “You’re dating an older woman?” I asked.

  I felt Drew’s smile against my hair. “I am, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do just about anything to spend an evening with you.”

  Smiling, I hugged him closer. “I thought you only wanted me as a babysitter, that you were using me.” Like every other man in my life, I wanted to tell him but didn’t.

  “I should have explained what I was doing earlier. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I’m not—”

  He stopped me by kissing me again, leaving me breathless. When he broke it off, he said, “I don’t know what it was you were going to say, but the way you looked up at me gave me a clue. Don’t discount yourself, Shay. If you’re about to tell me that you’re not like other women, then good. I don’t want other women. I want you. You’re the one who fills my head, who makes me feel alive. You’re the one who makes me smile and laugh when I didn’t know if that was ever going to be possible again.”

  Closing my eyes, I savored his words, holding them tightly against my heart.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Drew admitted. “I’ve only loved one woman. Katie and I…she was my only serious relationship. The thing is, Shay, I am sort of lost here.”

  “If that’s the case, we’re in deep trouble.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “My only relationship worthy of a mention,” I explained, “was with a man who is currently serving a life sentence for murder, so my own experience is limited in the extreme.”