Mirror, Mirror

by Robb, J. D.

  Chains rattled and the doorknob squeaked a little before it swung open to Ms. Lenty in the thick pink terry robe her niece had given her two years ago on her eighty-first birthday.

  “Natalie.”

  “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you so late. I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, come in before you wake the nosey parkers.” She squinted through thick glasses. “Lord, girl, you’re freezing. What’s happened?”

  As lightly as she could, she said, “Nothing. Really. I walked back from the church. It’s much colder than I thought it would be, is all. Mmm. It’s nice in here though.” Like an oven. Natalie was envious.

  The old lady nodded, pointing loosely in the direction of the phone with her arm, saying, “Devin Donahue, that new young weather boy they hired to do the local predictions on Channel Three, he’s saying there’s another big snow coming. Your homeless folk are not going to want to be out in it. Worst in years, he says. Freezing rain coming hard on its heels, he’s sayin’.” She half-sat, half-fell back into her lounger. “ ’Course he’s young so I checked around on the other channels and they’re all sayin’ the same. Bad night for the bums.”

  Natalie shook her head and tapped in the number to Miles’s cell phone. Bums was a word from a different generation that, despite her good heart, Ms. Lenty couldn’t seem to shake. She heard only one ring before he picked up.

  “Did you lose it or put off paying your phone bill again?” Apparently, she’d used Ms. Lenty’s phone often enough that it was on Miles’s caller ID.

  “Hi. Are you busy?”

  “A little. Why?”

  “Are you on duty tonight?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Are you like . . . on a date or something?”

  “No.” Impatience put a strain on his voice. “Why?”

  “I think I might need your help with something.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Having ascertained on the way home that the girl had barely over a hundred dollars to her name, Natalie made a quick side trip to the hidden tea tin of money she kept in her storage unit.

  Yes, yes, a bank would be safer, but banks charged fees and had stiff overdraft penalties . . . There was more than one way to be robbed. Besides, her funds were never around long enough to collect any interest so there was no need for that sort of middleman.

  She counted out what she thought would be enough to get a one-way bus ticket to Colorado—another unexpected, unavoidable, and overriding circumstance—and re-revised her budget to squeeze out, not all, but the greater part of her rent with not a penny left over.

  “Take it,” she said, when the girl made half of a halfhearted protest. “My address is on the paper. You can pay me back. And that’s Miles’s phone number. Please call him when you get to your cousin’s house.”

  The navy bean soup Aldene heated up for them took the chill from her bones and helped her think clearer—her short gap of free time was slipping away. Aldene had very kindly done her laundry and kept the apartment tidier than Natalie ever had, but the stockpile of soup in the basement was sorely depleted; the rest of the coats and blankets she’d been squirreling away all year should be taken down to the car, and she wanted to go over the volunteer list to see who could take her place making sack lunches for the Backpack Buddies at the elementary school this week.

  She found Caroline a larger, thicker coat; a scarf; and sturdier shoes in the donation box, and was pulling her own red-print ear flap stocking cap over her head when Miles knocked on the door.

  The broad-shouldered man in her doorway set her defense shields to rattling before they slipped away, and she relaxed her guard against the world. Despite his loose, easy posture, she felt protected and perfectly safe whenever he was near.

  “Hi.”

  “Hello.” He was frowning but, as always, his eyes were affable and kind. “What are you up to now?”

  Over her head he spied the women and children inside her apartment and took a deep breath in preparation of explaining to her, yet again, what a generally bad idea it was—not to mention dangerous—to take homeless people into her own home; how once the precedent was set and word got out, it would become less and less a choice for her and more and more something people expected of her. And once that happened . . . well, she’d gotten the memo a few times before.

  So before he could get the first word out, she placed her hand flat on his chest and gently pushed him back into the hall, stepped out with him, and closed the door.

  “Natalie—”

  “I know, I know. But it’s temporary, only a few days, and we’ve been discreet. I promise.” They shared a soft spot and she had no problem poking his. “The baby’s only a few months old.”

  He stared into her eyes for a good long minute and then finally looked away with a small indulgent smile and a whispered, “Itchy rash.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” He took a deep, bracing breath. “So what’s up? How can I help you?”

  “I need another favor.”

  He nodded, reconciled. “Are you in trouble?”

  “No. I’m not. But that girl—Caroline is her name—she is. She’s pregnant and she says the father, her boyfriend . . . I’m getting pimp from the way she’s talking so . . . well, it doesn’t matter. She says he’s not a nice person and definitely not the type to be a good father to her baby. She wants to go home to Colorado.” Her pause was merely to take a breath—there was no one she trusted more than Miles. “Actually, her parents live in Phoenix but she’s certain he knows that so she’s going to a cousin in Denver just in case he follows her . . . which isn’t usually the case, I know, but she’s so afraid and frantic that it’ll be better for the baby, and hopefully her, too, if she goes somewhere she feels more secure.”

  “You’ve given her money.” Not a question—more of an inference.

  “Some. Not a lot. But if you take her to the bus station, to ease her worries about the boyfriend, you can also make sure she uses the money on a ticket.” She grinned and pointed, first, to her head and then at him, saying, “Two birds, one stone.”

  “Very clever.” He was humoring her. “She knows I’m a cop?”

  “Yes. And I told her not to hold that against you. I said that while you are an exemplary police officer, you are a much better human being and that she didn’t need to be afraid of you unless there was a warrant out for her arrest.” She smiled. “She assured me there wasn’t.”

  “And you believe her.”

  “Of course.”

  “Of course. And I’m on my own with this. You’re not coming along.”

  “Oh. Well, no. I thought . . .” She was surprised. It sounded to her like he wanted her along. “I mean, I can. No problem. I’ll go with you if you’d like.”

  She’d like it. She simply hadn’t thought of it—assuming, she supposed, that it would be easier for him to drop Caroline at the bus station and go straight home again rather than doubling back to her place once more.

  Logical and practical, just like Janice Poser said . . . No wonder she had no dates.

  Half-turning back toward her door, she quickly rearranged her night off in favor of the ride to the bus station and back . . . Janice would be so proud! But then Miles surprised her again.

  “DAMN. WHAT IS THIS?” HE ASKED, TAKING HER JAW IN hand to tilt and tip it in the dim hall lighting. He examined her face carefully, his expression both angry and concerned. “What’s happened? Are you ill?”

  “No.” She pulled away, self-conscious. “I’m fine.”

  “If the circles under your eyes get any darker you’ll look like a raccoon. I thought it was the lighting at first, but you’ve lost weight, too. Your face is thinner. When was the last time you ate?”

  “Five minutes ago.”

  “Are you sleeping? Is there room in there for you to sleep, too? Seriously, you look exhausted.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve worked a couple extra shifts at work, is all .
. . and I might be catching a cold.”

  “A couple. Technically that’s two. You’re this wrecked after two extra shifts at the hospital?”

  If he wanted to be technical, not all her shifts had been at the hospital. She shrugged. “So maybe it was two couples.” He looked disappointed. “Okay, two and a half couples, but three of those were on my weekend off so it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  “It sounds like you haven’t had a day off in two weeks.” He recalled the Posers dishing up soup without her last week and considered her. “I know you haven’t paid your phone bill . . . What else are you behind on? How much do you need to get by?”

  The appreciation in her eyes and the smile on her lips were, he saw, deceptive as her spine straightened and pride set in her jaw. “You’re super sweet but too late, Mr. Got Rocks. I’ll catch up with everything once I get paid . . . including my sleep. Plus, and this is a Christmas wish come true, that really great women’s shelter in Beaumont . . . ? The one with transitional housing and child care? They have a place for Aldene and the children. They’ll help her get a job and . . . I’m so pleased for her. They should call any time now.” She laughed at the look he gave her. “I told them the Posers’ voice mail was more reliable than mine.” She let loose a short sigh. “I’m going to miss them. Do you think they’ll forget and leave little Franco behind?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me one bit.” He shook his head. She was hopeless. “All right then, send your girl out, it’s getting late.”

  “Okay. I’ll just get my coat and—”

  “Not you.” Her suddenly crushed and confused expression had his pulses skidding. Had she always looked at him with that sort of vibrant anticipation? What about that eagerness; that fragile combination of hope and faith that was, at this moment, inspiring a similar mix in him? “Not . . . not tonight. You should sleep. You need to rest because . . . well, I was going to ask if you had plans for Wednesday night . . . for Christmas Eve.”

  “Oh.” She was taken aback but he watched as pleasure flowed into her features, poured color into her cheeks, and restored that particular sparkle he cherished—that he abruptly realized was for him alone. “Oh. Well. You know that I usually spend Christmas Eve at the church . . . with you, when you come. Special dinner . . . Santa . . . Christmas hymns. . . .”

  “After all that.”

  “Well, usually when it’s my turn to have the holiday off, my brother comes—”

  “Didn’t you say he was going to Florida this year?”

  “Yes. He is.” She looked flustered—like she’d forgotten she’d told him . . . or maybe because she hadn’t expected him to remember. His heart smiled. He remembered everything about her. “So instead of going home with him to be with family on Christmas morning, I agreed to work a double—volunteered actually, for both shifts because I had nothing better to do . . . and for the money, obviously.”

  “But you’re still going to the church for Christmas Eve, right?” She nodded. “Good. I’ll meet you there. We’ll go out after.”

  “Together. Like . . . a date?”

  “Exactly like a date.” He probably imagined the small, involuntary squirm—but there was no mistaking her delight. “We’ll do something special.”

  “What?”

  He had no idea. “It’s a surprise.” For them both. “A good one.”

  “I love surprises.”

  “Of course, you do,” he murmured in a deep, low voice before impulsively bending forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. The look on her face was staggering. How could he have been so blind for so long?

  EYES LOCKED IN LONGING AND EASY ACCORD, HE LEANED past her to open the apartment door. “Let’s go.”

  “Caroline?”

  Using the girl’s name was as much about respect as it was kindness and care—and Natalie’s opinion that while he had plenty of all three, it was sometimes just as important to speak it as to show it . . . their last few minutes in the hallway being a prime example.

  “Caroline.” He gave a nod, promising to do better—especially with her.

  Pulling his gaze away and offering a friendly smile, he said, “We should get going before it gets too late. Have you got everything?”

  Bundled as thick and tight as a piker’s money roll, Caroline held up the bag lunch Aldene had packed for her and nothing else, nodding.

  Natalie escorted them to the main entrance for several reasons—to collect her mail, to make as much noise as possible so everyone knew that what had come in was now going out, and to see if Miles had any other magic up his sleeves. She was mesmerized.

  She reminded the girl to call when she arrived at her cousin’s and hugged her good-bye. “This is a good decision, Caroline—the kind good moms make.” She stepped back. “Good luck.” Then she turned to Miles. “Thank you for doing this.”

  “You’re welcome.” His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips and her heart stopped. He put his fist under her chin and barely skimmed her lower lip with his thumb. Her lips parted, and when she audibly drew in a breath, his eyes closed and he sighed. Lowering his hand, there was a rasp in his voice when he spoke. “Get some sleep. I’ll be devastated if you nod off on our first date.”

  She chuckled, still wanting a kiss.

  Holding the door open for Caroline but still watching her, he saw the wish and grinned.

  “Christmas Eve.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time a happy dance surged through her like current through a live wire—a snappy rumba to the wall of mailboxes, a short version of Riverdance, removing mostly bills from hers, and then she boogied back to the elevator while flipping through them. Still grinning so hard her cheeks ached, she came across one from the DMV—time to renew again already? She peeled back the flap and peered inside—her entire body sagged.

  Her car insurance had lapsed.

  FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS SHE NURSED THE SICK KNOT IN the pit of her stomach—a canker of worry and stress, inflamed, growing at a frightening rate.

  Eight hours of painstaking work at the hospital and another eight toiling at the Doze Off, she arrived home shortly after midnight each night to fall on the couch and sleep like the dead for five hours before getting up to do it again . . . And still, after working herself weary, her financial forecast looked bleak. There was never enough money.

  And no one had to tell her how her situation came about—there was plenty of self-blame in the mix. It was as Mr. Fish said: she should have taken care of her own needs first so she could continue to help others, but . . . Well, there was no but to it. She should have . . .

  But, the fact was she hadn’t. And looking back, she couldn’t drum up one ounce of regret for even a single penny she’d used to do what she could for those in need—for simple acts of kindness that anyone with a heartbeat deserved, that anyone with a heartbeat could not ignore.

  Her one bright spot was Miles. The tightness in her chest would ease away and a dreamy smile curled her lips every time she thought of him . . . every time someone mentioned Christmas Eve . . . every time a surprise was mentioned or a carol hummed or the familiar scent of cinnamon and sugar cookies tickled her nose.

  Just one night, one magical night with Miles, was her single Christmas wish. She wanted one night to ignore her plight, just one before she faced the consequences of her actions and had to push him away when he tried to fix everything. This time there was no way for him to protect her, not without ruining himself—which she would not allow.

  “THIS IS SO EXCITING,” NATALIE SAID EARLY WEDNESDAY morning, giggling with Aldene and watching Arturo and Crista hopping and dancing in jubilation. The night before, the Posers had left the note saying that their place at the women’s shelter was ready and waiting for them. Aldene had taped the note to the bathroom mirror so Natalie would see it when she got home. “Christmas in a place of your own . . . but oh, how I’m going to miss you.” She jutted out her lower lip briefly.

  “It could not have happened without you, my friend.”
Aldene rocked her back and forth in an exuberant hug. “I will never forget you. Not ever.”

  “You’d better not. I’ll be expecting a dinner invitation in a few months and a full report on everything. This means a new school for you, Arturo. A little scary, I know, but you’re a great guy, you’ll fit right in wherever you go. And I asked—there’s a Parks and Rec football team. Spring and fall.”

  “But I don’t play football.” Clearly, he didn’t know where she’d gotten that notion.

  “Soccer?” Ah! He grinned broadly. She hugged him. “Look at us. You being so American and me trying to be all international and cultured calling it football.

  “Okay. So this is what we’ll do. I have to leave for work in a few minutes. But I’ll be home by four o’clock, and once I’ve changed for my date”—she simpered at Aldene, who beamed back at her—“I can run you over to Beaumont and still be back in plenty of time to catch some of the fun at the church. And meet Miles, of course—for our date. It’s going to be a surprise. A good one.”

  They laughed together, and despite her great joy for the Pena family, she felt a pang of sadness. She’d grown accustomed to having a family around her again.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Working in the lab over Christmas was more of an inconvenience than anything else. No one liked being in the hospital over the holidays, and great efforts were made by both the patients—to be well enough to leave—and the doctors—to safely discharge them—that lab work was minimal and routine, which made for a very slow day.

  So when her relief showed up ten minutes early for her shift, Natalie threw her cares out the window and left forty minutes early from hers.

  The bus was on time for a lovely change and she broke land speeds getting home. Aldene and the children were patiently restless while she quickly showered and slipped into the red holiday dress she wore every other Christmas instead of the midnight blue one that she sometimes wore for Easter as well. Her one pair of black pumps did duty all year round—she simply didn’t dress up enough to need more.