“I wish I’d had more time with him. I guess you and I were meant to meet, to comfort each other. It helps to talk to someone who’s lost a person close to them.”
“Maybe.” I blew on my coffee and sipped. Still too hot. How did Nick manage to drink his?
“How did he die, your boyfriend?”
His question snapped me back to reality. “I’d rather not talk about that.” My voice wavered. What was wrong with me, talking to a stranger about this? Even if I never saw him again, he would still know what I’d done.
I extracted my purse from the grocery bag and scrambled for coins to pay for my coffee.
“Allow me.” Nick drained his coffee and dug in his pocket. Discreetly, he produced a wad of notes wrapped around each other. His hands half hidden under the table, he peeled off a hundred-dollar bill and placed it on the table between our cups. The coffee wouldn’t even cost ten dollars. For a moment, I wished I were Sally the waitress.
I stood, my eyes still glued to the money on the table. “Thanks for the talk.” I looked briefly at him and then stepped away. Then I slipped on something and went flying. I let out a squeal, anticipating the back of my head hitting the ceramic tiles. Instead, I fell into Nick’s arms.
His firm muscles contracted as he lifted me up to a standing position. “Careful.” His breath warmed my neck, awakening butterflies in the pit of my stomach. A smile tipped the corners of his full lips, and dimples appeared on both cheeks. No wonder I had found him attractive. I had always been a dimples and gorgeous eyes kind of girl.
I should have gotten out of the cradle of his arms immediately, but my body wouldn’t cooperate with my head. It had been a long time since I’d felt so safe in someone’s arms.
When Nick lowered his lips to mine and kissed me, I didn’t flinch. His kiss was a whisper at first, as if he was testing me to see if I’d fight him. When I didn’t, he gently nibbled my lips and probed my tongue with his.
My stomach swirled and somewhere inside my head, a tiny voice reprimanded me. I pretended not to hear. My body felt as if it had been plugged into an electrical outlet. I returned his kiss fervently. Nothing about this felt wrong. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right.
From a distance, people talked, someone slurped a drink, coins jingled, and a love song played in the background.
I wound my arms around Nick’s neck, and he buried his hands in my hair, unraveling it from its ponytail.
Suddenly, he pulled away, still gazing at me. His arms were still around my waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”
“It’s... It’s okay.” I bit my lip, relishing the remains of our coffee kiss.
His arms dropped to his sides, and he pushed his hands into his pockets, as if to restrain them. “I never do things like that. You are so...beautiful.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. That should never have happened.”
Words were lodged in my throat. I wanted to say that I didn’t regret what happened. That he’d made me feel alive again, if just for a moment.
Though the kiss invigorated me, the shame of kissing a total stranger washed over me. I felt like a teenager who couldn’t keep her emotions in check.
It was just that he’d caught me from more than falling to the floor. He’d also caught me from crashing down into depression, as I usually did on this day every year.
“I should go.” He lifted his suit jacket from the back of a chair and shrugged it on. “It was nice meeting you.” He strode out of the café, leaving me standing there with one hand clutching the edge of the table for balance.
The gears in my head clicked forward again and I remembered Oasis, breakfast, the residents. The clock above the jukebox confirmed that I had been away for at least an hour.
I grabbed my belongings and hurried past the banana peel that had caused my fall, and past Sally, who stood at the cash register, mouth open. She had obviously witnessed what had just happened between Nick and me.
Why did she look so shocked? Things like this happened all the time. Maybe not to me, but to a lot of other people.
When it came to dating and relationships, I had always been the type to take things slow. Chris and I had gone on three dates before I allowed him to kiss me on the lips. In fact, he was the only man I’d been with, in every way. The love of my life. But although I’d found him extremely attractive the first time we’d met in the parking lot of Shop ‘n’ Carry, the attraction hadn’t been a bolt of lightning.
He hadn’t made me feel the way Nick just had.
Chapter Three
As I helped with breakfast, I couldn’t stop thinking about Nick and the most amazing kiss I’d ever had, hands down. Nick had awakened feelings inside of me I thought would remain dormant forever.
Not that I hadn’t met men interested in me. I did, especially at Joe’s Steaks, where I waitressed in the evenings for spending money, since I volunteered for free at Oasis. I just never showed interest in any of them. I was responsible for the death of the man I’d intended on spending the rest of my life with. Did I deserve to find love with another?
Or so I’d thought. Meeting Nick was starting to make me question the decision I made to distance myself from happiness.
I smeared bread slices with peanut butter and handed them to Lynnette, who smeared them with jam and served the hungry people lined up in front of us.
When all the residents had been served, Lynnette left to retrieve their bags, which were kept in lockers behind the front desk, and to wish each of them a nice day. As if she were sending her children off to school. In a way, they were her children. Her infertility had been the reason her husband had left her ten years ago. Instead of pining after what she couldn’t have, she used the money she’d inherited from her father and opened the shelter, to which she dedicated her life.
During my time at Oasis, I learned homelessness had many faces. Some of the people we served weren’t what you’d expect; they had jobs, some of which even required wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk. The problem was, their wages were minimal and they couldn’t afford a place to stay or were saving up for one. Lynnette allowed each resident to stay for six months, to sort out their lives, before moving on to make space for someone else.
Oasis offered food and a bed, but also advice. Therapists, career advisors, and even doctors volunteered at the shelter several times a week. Those who received career advice were required, on a weekly basis, to inform the advisors of their progress toward changing their lives.
I helped Melisa serve the leftover coffee. Then we collected the pails filled with dirty mugs and carried them to the kitchen for washing. Melisa left to clean the tables in the cafeteria, and I stayed behind to load the dishwasher.
“Carlene?” A raspy male voice called from the door.
“Donny, I haven’t seen you in ages. Where have you been?”
Donny was a burly fifty-year-old man with a bushy beard and long hair he kept tied back with a black ribbon. He was one of my favorite residents; I was the one who found him on the streets and brought him to Oasis. A simple gesture from him never failed to lift my spirits—a thank you, a smile, a bar of chocolate bought with money he didn’t have. I suppose it was his way of thanking me.
Hidden behind his ready smiles, Donny was a recovering drug addict who’d lost everything to the addiction—his job as a manager at The Roll & Dice, his family, his friends. It took overdosing and a near-death experience to shake him awake.
“I was away for a while, making plans,” Donny answered.
I raised one eyebrow. “Plans?”
“And they were successful. I’m leaving Oasis.” A row of white teeth appeared between his beard and moustache. “I wanted to say goodbye.”
I wiped my hands on a dishcloth. “That’s right. Your six months are up. I can’t believe how time flies.” Despite being happy that he was moving on, I’d miss having him around.
“I got my old job back, and I signed up for an addiction recovery program. It’s held at Annie’s D
ance Hall once a week.”
I was thrilled he was taking control of his life, although a job in a casino seemed questionable for a recovering addict. But he looked so happy and determined. Hopefully he’d be strong enough to resist temptation. “I’m sure you’ll do great. I’m so proud of you.”
“I’ll be better than fine. My daughter, Hope, is allowing me to stay with her until I get back on my feet.”
“I’m so glad.” I walked over and embraced him. A tear dripped onto my cheek.
When I’d found Donny sleeping on the sidewalk, between The Roll & Dice and Maggy’s Hair Salon, he’d reeked of booze, sweat, and urine. Now he smelled only of soap and optimism.
“Have a good life.”
“Thank you, Carlene. I hope you find your happiness again.”
I broke the embrace. I’d never told him much about my life, but I guess sadness, like joy, is hard to hide. “Thank you. Goodbye, Donny.”
“Hang on a second, I’ve something for you.” He disappeared from the kitchen and returned a moment later with a lush, white rose. “This is as pure as your heart.”
“I appreciate it,” I said, squeezing his shoulder.
“Have fun spreading those petals at the festival.”
I gave him a bittersweet smile. “I won’t be going.” The Rose Petal Festival wasn’t the best place to be if you were single.
“Well, then, dry it and take it along next year. You can throw both fresh and dried petals into the lake. Has the same magic.”
“I will.”
***
By nine, only a handful of people were left in the Resident Hall. Some of the residents were reading, praying, meditating, or just staring into space.
I went to my bed and sank down on it. The springs sighed in response to my weight. Melisa and I both started out as residents. We’d arrived the same morning and were friends by nightfall. She had been my rock through my worst depression ever—during my first week at Oasis—the one that almost drove me to give up on life altogether. In fact, I’d gone as far as swallowing sleeping pills and going to bed as usual. But Melisa noticed something was wrong with my breathing and called for help in time to save my life.
After six months of therapy, the scars still hadn’t healed, but I found a way to trudge on. But when the six months were up and we were required to leave, I had nowhere to go. I pleaded with Lynnette to let me and Melisa stay on as helpers.
I drew my knees to my chest and hugged them, rocking back and forth.
Melisa walked into the room and sat next to me. “Talk.”
“I’ve nothing to say.”
“Bullshit. Today is the day. Of course you have something to say.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Tell me what you told me last year at this time.”
“I still feel guilty, Melisa. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.”
“Did you go to the chapel?”
“Yes.” I rubbed my temples.
“It didn’t help, did it?”
“Not really.”
“Well, then I’ll tell you the same thing I always tell you.” She grasped my hand. “You are a good person. You’re carrying guilt that’s not yours to carry. What happened was not your fault. If it were, you’d be in jail right now.”
“I know that. But it doesn’t change the facts.”
“I’m not saying it does. Just stop wasting your life. You’re only twenty-nine. You can start over, create a great life for yourself.”
“Time spent helping others is not wasted.”
“It is if you’re doing it to punish yourself. You’re beautiful and smart, and you deserve way more than this.”
I leaned against her. “So do you. You’re wasting your life as well.”
“I had a good life and lost it. There’s nothing out there for me. Not anymore.”
“I think you’re wrong. But you’ll never know unless you try.”
“Did you light a candle for my husband and baby?”
“No, I’m so sorry. Someone distracted me.”
Five years ago, Melisa’s husband, a fireman, had died rescuing an old woman from a burning building. At the time, they’d been married for three years and were awaiting their first child. After losing her high school sweetheart, she suffered a miscarriage that shattered the remains of her heart. Apparently, before it all happened, she’d been a devoted Christian and went to church every Sunday. After, she turned her back on God and turned instead to drink and gambling.
Not long after, Melisa lost everything she owned and turned to stealing as a way to feed her addictions. With help from Oasis, she had stopped gambling, but still had an occasional drink.
“Didn’t you say the church is usually isolated during the week?”
“Well, not today.”
Melisa rose and went to lie on her own bed, hands clasped at her chest. “So, what happened?”
“He heard me crying and asked if I was okay. I told him I was, then I walked out.”
Melisa propped herself up on an elbow, facing me. “So, it was a him? Was he handsome?”
I bit my lip and nodded.
“And you still ran away. How many men are you going to run from?”
Averting my gaze, I fluffed my pillow, even though it didn’t need it.
“Carlene,” Melisa said slowly. “This man you met was different, wasn’t he?”
“What do you mean?” An involuntary smile spread across my face.
She tossed her pillow at me, and I giggled. “You like him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He made your day a little easier. This time last year, as soon as your tasks were completed, you locked yourself in the bathroom. Your eyes were so swollen they looked like golf balls. He comforted you.”
I tossed the pillow back at her and laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can read you from a mile away. Stop denying it. You’re smitten, you little kitten.”
“What if I am? It doesn’t change anything.”
“Yes, it does. For as long as I’ve known you, I haven’t seen you smile like this. This man changed something inside of you.”
I concealed a grin with my hand. “He kissed me.” I couldn’t help it—I had to tell someone before I burst.
Melisa clapped her hands. “He liked you too. How romantic. How did he kiss you? Did he just come up and smooch you?”
“He invited me for a coffee. We talked for a while, and when I was leaving, I slipped on a banana peel. He caught me and we kissed.”
“Like in the movies.” Melisa’s eyes lit up. “Love at first sight. I’m sure he can’t wait to see you again. Please tell me you gave him your number.”
“I didn’t get the chance to give it to him. We parted so suddenly. Anyway, maybe he just felt like kissing a random girl.”
“Find out. Go to the chapel every day if you have to, at the same time. See if he shows up again. If he wants to see you again, he might.”
Butterflies fluttered inside my stomach. “I’m not going to force anything. If we’re meant to meet again, we will.” After all, we lived in a town called Serendipity, and with no more than two thousand residents, it was more than likely.
“Sometimes in life you have to make things happen yourself. To hell with fate and all that nonsense.”
“I’m not going to look for him, Melisa.”
“Then do something else for me.” Melisa’s face turned serious. “See this as a sign to move on. Go out there. Get a proper job and a place to stay. Start over. Don’t let it be too late for you, too.”
“It isn’t too late for you, Melisa. We can start over together.”
Melisa shook her head. “No, we can’t. I can’t. Now, come on, do this for me. Try living a normal life for six months. If you don’t like it, you can come back. I’m sure Lynnette will always welcome you back with open arms.”
Defeated, I threw my hands in the air. “Fine. Six months. Just to ge
t you off my back.”
Chapter Four
Lynnette fully supported my decision to move out. She assured me, just as Melisa said she would, that there would always be a place for me at Oasis.
In the evening, as usual, I waitressed at Joe’s Steaks across the street. This time, instead of disappearing after my shift, I went to talk to Joe about giving me a full-time job. He’d proposed it on several occasions, but working at Oasis had always been my priority. It was my lifeline, the place that kept me sane, and I hadn’t been ready to cut that rope just yet.
Unfortunately, my timing was bad. Joe no longer needed an additional full-time waitress, and I had to look elsewhere. After pounding the streets for a week, I finally found a job waitressing at the Surry Hotel restaurant. I’d have loved to work at the Serendipity Lux Hotel on the other side of the street, but working in a luxury hotel required years of experience, which I lacked.
My shift started before I had finished shaking the manager’s hand.
Next on my to-do list was finding a place to stay.
***
I climbed out of the taxi and stepped into the filthiest part of town. Two men were sprawled out on the pavement, and beggars sat cross-legged on the curb. I tossed a few coins into several coffee cups. I’d been there.
Pressing my purse close to my body, I crossed the street. A car whizzed by, ignoring a red light, and almost ran me over. I sprang away in time and landed on my bum. Unfazed, I stood and dusted myself off. Nothing would stop me from reaching my destination.
The apartment building was tucked between a laundromat and a strip club.
The caretaker, a man with crow’s feet and a widow’s peak opened the door with one hand. He held a chipped coffee mug in the other.
“I’m here to see the room that’s being advertised.”
He extracted a set of keys from his pocket. “Sure, follow me.”
“Do you have a job?” he asked, as we climbed the worn-out stairs.
Dust particles rose and tickled my nostrils to a sneeze. “Excuse me.” I sniffed. “Yes, I do have a job.”
Entangled Moments (Moments in Time) Page 2
