Always There: Christian Inspirational Romance

by Georgia Grace

  It was a small place, and very out-of-the-way. It sat just off the beach in an old, ramshackle house. The place looked like it’d been vacant for years, but there was a sign out front that said “One Man’s Trash”, obviously a takeoff of the old saying that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

  Jilly finally looked up from her game and turned her nose up. “What is this place?” she asked with a look on her face like she smelled something awfully bad.

  Elise had to laugh at that. Her daughter definitely wasn’t going to be thrifty, it seemed. It shouldn’t have been surprising really. Jilly wasn’t brought up that way. She lived in the lap of luxury, albeit fake luxury given their current situation. Now she would grow up in a totally different way than Ted had planned for his daughter. Instead of having the finest of everything, she would be going to thrift stores with her mother to make ends meet. Yep, she was living the dream. Or maybe living a nightmare.

  But whose fault was that, Elise thought to herself. The resentful anger she felt toward her husband was starting to overtake the good memories of their time together that she tried desperately to hold onto.

  Preserving her daughter’s fond memories of Ted was the most important thing, and she had to find a way to get over her anger and resentment, at least enough to raise Jilly with happy thoughts about her father.

  “Jilly, this is called a thrift store. Remember, we talked about it this morning?”

  “Yes…. But why do we need to come here?”

  Elise had no idea how to answer that in eight year old language. “Well, we need extra money to have more fun on our trip, honey. That’s all.” She hoped that if she just kept reiterating that the money was to have “more fun” and that everything was okay that Jilly would get used to their new life.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun,” Elise prodded as she opened the car door. “It’ll be like a treasure hunt!” Okay, maybe she was overdoing her fake excitement. Jilly rolled her eyes and reached for her door handle. It was those moments when Elise wondered what her daughter would be like as a teenager, hormones raging.

  They walked through the doors of the small thrift store which supported a local women’s shelter. At first glance, Elise was not overly impressed with the selection. There was a small corner with shoes, a few racks of clothing and some toys off to the left. And Elise felt completely lost. She had never been in a thrift store herself, and what little research she’d done about hot selling items was failing her at the moment.

  Thankfully, she had saved some notes on her phone and immediately started referring to them as she and Jilly sorted through racks of clothing. She felt like she was lost in a maze of junk with no way to sort the good from the bad. Wanting to burst into tears, she decided to hit the next store to see if she had better luck.

  Chapter 7

  Who knew thrifting for profit could be so hard? Elise pondered her intelligence level as she walked into the third thrift store of the day. Maybe she was overreacting and didn’t need to earn money immediately. I mean, she had a little bit to get them through a few months, so maybe she could she take a few weeks to get acclimated…. No, she thought to herself, there is no rest for the weary. Or for newly single mothers.

  Dear God. She was a single mother now. She would have never expected that label to be placed on her.

  “Mommy, how many more stores?” Jilly whined. It had been three hours already, and Elise had only bought a few vintage t-shirts and a set of dinnerware. She could understand why Jilly was so bored. She was bored too. She was making this far too much like forced work than a fun new hobby she could have and make money at the same time.

  “Just this one, honey. Then we can go get some lunch and maybe hit the beach this afternoon. Just hang in there and be a good girl, okay?” she asked. Maybe she was asking too much.

  Jilly was a good kid. For the most part, she was a typical eight year old into dolls and anything with glitter. On the other hand, Elise knew all too well that losing a father at such a young age left scars on the soul of a girl. She was never the same after her father died, and Jilly would always be different than she would have been if Ted hadn’t made such a hasty decision.

  Elise often wondered if the decision was hasty. Had he planned it? Had he known at dinner the night before that he was going to be leaving this Earth? Had he known on their anniversary or Valentine’s Day? Had he known the last time he kissed her? It bothered her that she didn’t know the answer to those questions, yet knowing the answers would probably bother her more.

  When someone commits suicide, the people who love them are left behind to pick up the pieces of their own broken hearts. And it’s not fair.

  Elise dragged her daughter into the last store of the day, but her hopes were renewed when she saw the inside. It was actually quite nice as far as thrift stores go. It was a lot bigger, a good bit cleaner and had a larger variety of products. Even Jilly got excited when she saw the huge toy section, so Elise decided to start there.

  Within thirty minutes, Elise had a cart full of high-end clothing, some crystal wine glasses and a few vintage toys. She was actually getting excited to start her new little business as she rolled her full cart to the cash register.

  “Did you find everything you needed?” the young woman behind the register asked. She was perky and blond and didn’t fit the mold of the other thrift store workers she’d seen that day.

  “I certainly did. Thank you,” Elise said with a smile as she pulled the items from her cart, trying to imagine that she was back in Atlanta at one of her favorite high-end stores.

  The cashier rang up all of the clothing and toys before moving to the fragile wine glasses.

  “Do you have something to wrap those in?” Elise asked, worried that her new treasure would be broken before they could get back to the RV.

  “Yes, ma’am. Let me grab a stack of newspapers,” she said as she reached down into a recycling bin where customers must have brought their recycled papers.

  Elise was drawn to the cashier’s freshly painted fingernails, which were decorated like ladybugs.

  “Oh, look, Jilly. She has ladybug fingernails,” Elise said pointing. Jilly stood on the tippy toes to see them and grinned.

  “Cool! I want some!” Jilly exclaimed.

  “I got mine done by Dixie over at Fancy Nails. It’s on Seaside Street,” the girl said. Elise had no idea where that was, but she made a mental note to ask Dave if he knew.

  Elise was about to respond when she had one of those moments that happen rarely in life. It was one of those instances in time that take your breath away and make you know for certain that your life will never be the same again.

  As if in slow motion, she looked down at the newspaper the cashier was using to wrap one of the glasses and saw a set of eyes that she could never forget. But it couldn’t be. The face didn’t match.

  “Excuse me. Can I see that?” Elise asked, her voice now shaking. The cashier looked at her strangely, cocking her head to the side.

  “The newspaper you mean?” she asked.

  “Yes. Please,” was all Elise could manage to say. Jilly was blissfully unaware of the life changing moment as she twirled around beside the buggy, happily fluffing her dress as she spun.

  The cashier continued wrapping the other glasses as Elise slowly opened the newspaper to reveal the full picture of a man on the front page. He was scruffy and dirty and had a full face of hair. His hair was messy and his beard was fairly long and unkempt, but the eyes were what drew her.

  It couldn’t be, but it was. It was most assuredly Ben.

  “Do you know who this is?” Elise asked the cashier without thinking, only realizing moments later that she could have just read the news story accompanying the photo.

  “Oh, that was big news a few months back. He’s some homeless guy who returned a man’s wallet he found in a bathroom at the mall. Had like three hundred bucks in it, but all of it was still there. Made big news here. I guess most people thought a homeless guy
would’ve kept the money.”

  Elise felt like she had swallowed a rock. She couldn’t take a deep breath and worried she might pass out. Instead, she stared back down at the paper, searching desperately for a name. And then she saw it. Ben Campbell.

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  “Who?” the cashier asked as she bagged up the glasses.

  “Ben. I mean, the homeless man…”

  The cashier stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “Um, no. He’s homeless.”

  “Right. But where do homeless people live around here?” Elise couldn’t believe she was asking such a question.

  “Mommy, what does homeless mean?” Jilly asked, pulling on Elise’s shirt.

  “Not now, Jilly…” Elise said before turning her attention back to the young woman. “There must be a place around here where homeless people tend to congregate.”

  “I don’t really know, ma’am. Sorry. Your total is thirty-six fifty one.”

  Elise could tell by her tone and the ever-growing line behind her that she was being ushered out of the store. And she understood because she truly did sound like a crazy person right now. Her face was flush, her voice was shaking and she was clutching that piece of newspaper like her life depended on it.

  Ben was homeless? How could that be?

  Elise finished paying her bill and rolled her cart out of the store and straight to her car. She continued clutching the newspaper and folded it carefully before putting it into her purse.

  ***

  She’d had every intention of sitting in the parking lot and reading every word of that newspaper article, but life with an energetic eight year old with the world’s best memory didn’t always allow for “intentions”.

  As soon as they’d loaded the car, Jilly reminded her mother about lunch and ice cream and the beach…. All promises Elise had made in an effort to keep her daughter motivated to let her shop. One thing was for certain: if she was to thrift for a living, she would have to find help in the area to watch Jilly.

  After a quick lunch at a local eatery, the pair headed back toward the campground. Elise promised Jilly that they would invite Dave and Barb to the beach for the rest of the day, a promise she was now regretting as she really only wanted to hole up in the RV and read every last detail of how Ben had become homeless. Ben. Homeless? How was that possible?

  “Mr. Dave!” Jilly squealed as they pulled into the campground. It was amazing how Jilly was already getting accustomed to her new surroundings. Before Elise got the car completely stopped, Jilly flung open the door and ran toward Dave, who was just stepping outside to take Sadie for a walk.

  “Well, hello there, Miss Jilly!” he said with a deep laugh. “Sadie has been looking for you all day. Where ya been?”

  “We went to the boring thrifty stores,” Jilly said with a scowl before bending down to pet the fluffy dog.

  “Thrift stores, Jilly. Hey, Dave,” Elise said as she ran her fingers through her hair and smiled. “She wasn’t a fan of them.”

  “Well, I ’spose they aren’t the most exciting places on Earth. Maybe you can find her something better to do when you need to shop?”

  Elise bit her bottom lip for a moment. “It’s just that I…”

  “Don’t know anybody around here. I get it. But there are some wonderful daycares, and come to think of it, our church is having vacation Bible school starting soon. Maybe Jilly would enjoy that?”

  “You have a church you attend here?”

  “Oh yes. Gotta have a place to connect with God. We go to Seagrove Baptist Church over off Seaside Street and Elm.”

  “Hey, momma, isn’t that where Dixie is?”

  “Dixie?” Elise asked.

  “You know, the lady who does the fingernails?” Elise was suddenly transported back to the thrift store and the cashier who had the cute painted fingernails. And the newspaper story.

  “Oh, yes. Fancy Nails.”

  “Barb used to get her nails done there, I do believe,” Dave said.

  “Speaking of Barb, where is she?”

  “Oh, she’s just tidying up. She’ll be out here soon enough. What’s your plan for the rest of the day?”

  “Well, Jilly was hoping I could talk you both into joining us out on the beach,” Elise said with a smile. For the moment, she was trying to act normal and not like a woman who just found out that her childhood best friend and first major crush had become homeless.

  “Oh, well now that does sound nice. How ‘bout you two go on down there and we’ll join you in just a bit?”

  “That sounds great. We’ll just go grab our beach gear and see you in a little while. Come on, Jilly,” Elise called as she ushered her daughter into the RV to get her swimsuit on.

  ***

  Elise had no time to sit down with the newspaper clipping. Keeping up with Jilly on the beach had proven to be a full-time job. She and Barb sat talking under an umbrella for a long time with Barb regaling her with tales of her own daughter and her former job as a nurse.

  Dave, who seemed to have the patience of Job, helped Jilly search for seashells for most of the afternoon. Elise was sure Jilly’s lips never stopped moving because Lord knows that girl can talk!

  But it was nice to get to know her new “neighbors”. She didn’t know why she’d already developed such a close bond with Dave and Barb, but she felt like they were going to become family to her.

  “I bet Jilly is wearing Dave out,” Elise said with a laugh as she watched them trying to build a sandcastle.

  “Oh, no. My Dave is pretty spry for his age. He loves kids. Says it keeps him young,” Barb said. Elise watched Barb look at Dave from across the expanse of sand and longed to feel that sense of love and peace again. Barb’s eyes were full of caring and devotion, just like a wife should feel for a husband. Had she looked at Ted that way? Maybe she hadn’t shown him enough love and that’s why he chose suicide as a way out.

  That was the problem with suicide. It left those behind with a lifetime full of unanswerable questions.

  After getting Dave and Barb back to their motorhome, Elise was exhausted. The sun was blazing hot enough to zap most of her energy right out of her body. It was almost dinnertime, but Jilly had loaded up on hotdogs that were being sold by a beach vendor, so she would get a little reprieve from having to prepare a full meal. They’d probably just snack later.

  “Jilly, I need to rest for a bit, so why don’t you read one of your books or watch a movie?”

  “Okay, Mommy,” Jilly said as she hopped up on the sofa and grabbed the remote. Within minutes, another Disney movie was blaring throughout the motorhome.

  “Sweetie, turn it down a little bit, okay? We don’t want the neighbors to be able to hear it,” Elise said before sliding her bedroom door shut.

  Finally. She had a moment of peace where she could sit down with that newspaper clipping and read what had happened to her friend.

  She opened it slowly, being careful not to rip it. Her eyes were first met with Ben’s face. Scruffy was the word to describe it. She almost laughed at the thought of him having any facial hair at all given the fact that he used to complain all the time that he couldn’t grow a decent mustache like the rest of his wrestling team. Irony at its best.

  She ran her index finger across his face. Who was this person? He looked nothing like her Ben. HER Ben. What did that even mean? He wasn’t hers. He was never hers.

  The article described Ben as homeless. The long and short of the story had been just what the cashier described. He did a good deed and returned the wallet even though he obviously needed the money.

  For some reason, that made her smile. It made her realize that the Ben she knew - the one who would have given anyone the shirt off his back - was still in there.

  But he looked sad. Empty. Alone.

  Of course he would. He’s homeless, she thought. Who would be happy being homeless?

  The article had no other information. No contact info, of course. Homeless people ge
nerally don’t have addresses. And she had no idea where he was or how to get to him. And did she want to?

  I mean, he’d had every opportunity over the years to get in touch with her and he didn’t. What if he was a drug addict? Or running from the cops? She couldn’t drag her daughter into that. But she couldn’t imagine living the rest of her life knowing that Ben was somewhere in the area living in a bush or on a park bench.

  At the same time, he was an adult. He wasn’t her responsibility. He was just an old friend, someone from her past. She couldn’t control his decisions, and whatever led him to become homeless was probably a big deal. Maybe she should just move on and try to forget she ever knew the information she was holding in her hands. Only she couldn’t. Because he wasn’t “just an old friend”. He was a part of her past that was as real and as important as her own heart.