Remembrance

by Mary Monroe

  “Well, if I had recognized you, I would have said something myself,” I muttered with my eyes and cheeks burning.

  “I know you would have. And I can tell by the way your face is scrunched up now, you’re wondering what happened to me, huh?”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Well, a few months after we broke up, I married a girl I’d met on a cruise ship. That and letting you get away were the two biggest mistakes I ever made in my life. Anyway, my wife turned out to be so high-maintenance, I had to drop out of college and go to work full-time to take care of her—and the two kids I didn’t know she had, until two months after I married her. A few years ago, I lost my job and the bank foreclosed on my house. My wife took off right away. If all that wasn’t bad enough, I had a mild stroke last year. I had to move in with my mother so she could take care of me. A month after I had fully recovered, she died of a massive heart attack. I didn’t have anyplace to go, but the street.”

  “I’m so sorry—”

  Cliff held up his hand. “I’m fine now, praise God. Things started looking up for me when I came to this kitchen last month and saw you serving. Of all the people in my life, past and present, you were the most positive influence. You didn’t gossip and backstab like the other girls I knew. You didn’t tell lies—that I knew of. You didn’t touch drugs, and you never drank any alcohol stronger than beer.”

  “That’s no longer true about the alcohol. I enjoy a glass of wine or a good margarita every now and then,” I said sheepishly, giggling for a few seconds. I cleared my throat and folded my arms. “Since you brought it up, I hope my ‘positive influence’ helped improve your housekeeping skills,” I teased.

  An embarrassed look crossed Cliff’s face. He waved his hand and laughed. That gave me a warm feeling. “You must mean that roach thing. I hired an exterminator and that took care of the problem. From that point on, I kept my house so clean, you could eat off the floor.” Cliff sniffed and blinked. Despite his wretched appearance, his eyes were still as warm and sparkling as they’d been more than twenty-five years ago. “Uh, I heard you got married to some dude in the plumbing business, Eric Powell. I see his flyers, billboard ads, and business cards all over the place.”

  “Yes, he’s my husband. We have three children. They’re all grown now and doing quite well, I’m happy to say.”

  “Dude must be doing really well for you to be driving a set of wheels like that.” Cliff nodded toward my six-month-old silver Lexus. “I had no idea there was so much money in unclogging toilets, sink drains, and whatnot.”

  “Well, my husband and his business partner have contracts with several private schools, hotels, hospitals, restaurants, and other local businesses.”

  “I see. I guess the next thing I’ll hear is that you moved to the Berkeley Hills.”

  “Um . . . we already live there.”

  Cliff’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “Oh. That’s nice, and I’m happy for you, Bea. If anybody deserves to live the good life, it’s you. I can’t tell you how happy I was when I saw your face after so many years.”

  “I wish you had said something to me before now. If I had known how things had turned out for you . . . I . . . I’m sure my husband would have helped you find work, or hired you to work for him.”

  He held up his hand again. “No way. I would never take a job with the man who was lucky enough to get you to marry him. I’d be so jealous I wouldn’t be able to keep my mind on my work.” Cliff cocked his head to the side and snorted. I was glad to see a very sincere-looking smile on his face. “Even though you didn’t know who I was all the times you put food on my tray, you treated me like a human being. You always smiled and told me to ‘have a blessed day.’ You said that to the other people you served, but it was special when you said it to me. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for us. I was in L.A. when you got hit by that car. When I got back up here, I almost called you up a few times. Um . . . well, I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again after the cold way I dumped you. I’m sorry for that. You deserved better. You were so sweet to me and easygoing, I took you for granted. I never got a chance to tell you, but I’m telling you now. I appreciated the fact that you were always in my corner when we were together.”

  “I’m still in your corner, Cliff.”

  “Sure enough. When I first spotted you working at Sister Cecile’s, I felt so good. I went out the very next day and started looking for a job. I went to several different places in the same day and didn’t have much luck. Seeing you made me recall how often you used to tell me to persevere, and always try to do something productive. Those words kept me motivated and I didn’t give up. Well, your coaching paid off. Two days ago, I got hired at a construction firm in Frisco. I wouldn’t have even gone over there and applied if I hadn’t seen you.”

  Cliff’s words gave me a great deal of satisfaction. My chest swelled with so much pride. “I’m happy to hear that things are looking up for you now.”

  “That’s not all. On top of that, one of the dudes that interviewed me owns a duplex on Prince Street. It’s not a palace, but he said I could move into the basement and live rent free for the first three months if I’d paint it for him.”

  “That’s wonderful news!” I exclaimed. “God is so good.”

  “Yeah. I just wish He’d been good to me a little sooner.” Cliff started breathing through his mouth with a harsh sound, and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Don’t get me wrong. I am not complaining.”

  I nodded. “I know you’re not complaining.” I coughed to clear my throat. “Well, I guess I should be going,” I muttered, glancing at my watch.

  “Me too. I’m so glad I was brave enough to talk to you today. Now that I have a job and a place to stay, I’ll never eat at another soup kitchen again after today—I hope. But I couldn’t leave without letting you know how much seeing you helped me get my hopes back up.”

  “Thank you, Cliff. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  “Yes, I do. Now you have a blessed day.” He was about to walk away, but I pulled him into my arms and we bear-hugged for ten seconds. When it was over, there was a smile on his face that stretched from one side to the other. He didn’t look so shabby or scary now. He looked hopeful.

  “I’ll pray for you,” I told him.

  “I know you will, Bea. And I’ll do the same for you.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Irarely ate at the soup kitchen, even though staff members could eat all they wanted, it just didn’t feel right. There was a deli called Iola’s, located two blocks away on the same street, that served great food. When I didn’t want to leave the premises to go shopping or someplace else, I went there for my coffee and lunch breaks. Some of the same people I helped feed hung out near the entrance with cardboard signs and outstretched hands. I always carried a few extra dollars to give them.

  Most of my coworkers also visited Iola’s a few times a week. Reyes Mendoza, our head cook, and Gayle O’Hara, one of the other servers, usually accompanied me when I went, and we often shared a table. When they had other plans, I went by myself, which was at least once or twice a week.

  Because of my bittersweet reunion with Cliff, I lost interest in going to the thrift shop. All I wanted to do now was go somewhere and sit and think about him. Since I was already in the vicinity, and thought a strong cup of coffee would do me a world of good, I decided to go to Iola’s. During the short walk, I said a silent prayer for Cliff. I had cared deeply about him at one time, and I still did. However, I was glad we had not taken our relationship any further than we had. I was convinced that I couldn’t have found a better husband than Eric.

  As soon as I walked through the door at Iola’s, I spotted Reyes. She sat in a booth in the back of the room, poring over a magazine. She didn’t see me until I plopped down directly across from her. “Hey, Queen Bea! Did you have fun shopping with your mother before you came in today?” she asked, wiggling her pert nose. Reyes was a slender, attr
active woman in her middle fifties, who didn’t look a day over forty. Her hair was charcoal black, and her olive skin didn’t have a wrinkle or a blemish in sight.

  “I wouldn’t call it fun,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes. I took a sip of my coffee and let out a mild sigh. “You’ve met my mother, so you know she’s not the most fun person in the world.”

  “I’ll trade mine for yours any day,” Reyes said, chuckling. “My mother refers to Diego as my first husband, even though we’ve been married for thirty years and have five kids and six grandkids. She’s convinced that there is a better man out there for me.” We laughed. Reyes scrunched up her lips and gave me a serious look. “You look a little sad. Did Mama say something mean to you?”

  “Not really. My mother gives me a run for my money, but she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. No matter what she says, I know she means well.” I bit the corner of my bottom lip and shook my head. “I’m sad because I ran into somebody from my past. And he’s had some very bad luck.”

  “He who? An old boyfriend?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. My head felt as if it had suddenly doubled in weight.

  “Oh? When and where did you see him?”

  “He approached me in the parking lot at Sister Cecile’s a few minutes ago.”

  Reyes gasped and gave me a panicked look. “What was he doing in our parking lot?”

  “He’s been eating with us for a while.” I shook my head and let out a woeful sigh. “He was very handsome at one time. But today I didn’t know who he was until he told me.”

  Reyes’s eyebrows rose up so fast, they almost flew off her face. “Oh, Dios mio! You were in love with a man who is now homeless? What happened to him?”

  I repeated what Cliff had told me. “I still feel sorry for him, but I’m sure he’s going to be okay now.”

  “I hope you don’t still have feelings for him.”

  I tried to look offended, but only managed to look slightly annoyed. “Come on! You know better! That thought never even crossed my mind! I love my husband very much.” I had been somewhat down in the doldrums most of the day. My encounter with Cliff had pushed me a little further down. But I still managed to laugh at Reyes’s comment.

  “You know I’m just kidding,” she chirped. “You already got the best man.”

  “I know,” I agreed.

  When we finished our coffee and returned to work ten minutes later, I helped decorate the gigantic Christmas tree that they had just put up near the front entrance. Just knowing that my favorite day in the year was approaching helped to lift my spirits.

  * * *

  When we served the evening meal, every seat at all four tables was occupied. Almost a dozen more people had to wait until there was space for them. As I was about to leave for the day, one of our new visitors, who had just finished his dinner, approached me and helped me into my jacket.

  He was a quiet, sad-eyed man who always kept to himself and looked totally out of place. Unlike some of the other middle-aged men we fed, ones that had probably been good-looking decades ago, he was still very handsome. He was of average height and looked very fit, as if he worked out on a regular basis. There were a few lines on his face, and except for a few silver strands at the temples, his thick hair was jet black. He’d been eating a few meals a week with us for the past couple of months. I had also noticed him at Iola’s a few times. “Thank you,” I said.

  “It’s getting dark outside, so please be careful,” he said in a serious tone. “Somebody must have cloned the boogeyman, because they’re all over the place these days,” he added with a gentle laugh. I wasn’t surprised that he was so articulate and polite. A lot of the other men were too. One of our regulars had once been a high-school history teacher.

  “I’ll be okay. My car is right outside, just a few feet away,” I chirped.

  “I hope you don’t have to drive too far. Do you live alone?”

  The question felt a little too personal, but I smiled and told him, “No, I’m happily married. Have a nice evening.” Just as I was about to walk away, he spoke again.

  “My name is Charles Davenport.” He extended his hand. I held my breath and shook it. His intense, almond-shaped brown eyes were as clear and healthy-looking as mine. It was a refreshing change. Most of the other men’s eyes were bloodshot and glassy, another example of how hard it was to live on the street.

  “Uh, I’m Beatrice,” I mumbled.

  “I know.” Charles nodded toward the name tag on the lapel of the light blue smock I wore whenever I was on duty. “Every time I come here, I overhear people talking about how nice you are. If I don’t see you again before Christmas, I hope you enjoy it.” Without another word, he spun around and rushed out the door.

  I stood there like a fool until Mrs. Snowden, the heavyset, elderly woman who called all the shots at Sister Cecile’s, eased up behind me and touched the side of my arm.

  “Are you all right, Beatrice? You look distressed.”

  “Huh?” I rubbed my nose and shook my head.

  “Did that gentleman say something offensive to you?”

  “No, he didn’t. He was very nice,” I said firmly.

  Mrs. Snowden bore a strong resemblance to a sad-faced mule, and looked even more like one as the corners of her mouth went down. “That’s good. So many people who come here are good people, even if they do have some problems. But if someone gets too forward or aggressive and makes you feel uncomfortable, let me know. I’ll resolve it as amicably as possible. It’s always an unpleasant day when I have to call law enforcement. And I don’t like to do that, unless it’s absolutely necessary. Bad publicity might scare off some of our benefactors. But we also want to make sure that all of our staff stay safe. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “With that in mind, don’t let your guard down. It’s always better to be vigilant.”

  “I won’t,” I said firmly. “Have a blessed evening. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  As I cruised down the street, admiring the city’s awesome Christmas decorations, I saw Charles approach a tent encampment near the freeway underpass. I pulled over to the curb and stopped and watched him enter one of the tents. A wooden crate sat on the ground near the tent’s opening, with a tiny, artificial Christmas tree on top of it. In addition to all kinds of debris on the ground, there were several shopping carts parked nearby. Each one overflowed with everything from shabby clothes to brown paper bags bursting at the seams. It was hard to believe that this level of despair was so rampant in one of the richest states in the country. I was glad that I was doing something to help make matters a little more bearable for some people, and I wished I could do more.

  Just as I was about to drive away, Charles shuffled back out and lifted a bulging paper bag from one of the shopping carts. He had removed his jacket and now had on what looked like a cheap pajama top. A do-rag covered the top half of his head. He took a pair of glasses out of the bag and put them on. Then he went back inside. I shook my head and said aloud, “Brother, what in the world happened for a man like you to end up living in a tent?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Driving was not one of my favorite pastimes. It had become so much of a hassle; sometimes when I went shopping, I parked in a lot and used public transportation. It had rained a couple of hours ago and there were a lot of puddles in the streets. I was going to take my time, so I could avoid as many as possible.

  I drove a few more blocks until I got to a liquor store. I parked in their parking lot and dialed Camille’s cell phone number. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, you. How come you haven’t responded to the two voice mails I left you?” she asked in a stern tone.

  “That’s what I’m doing now.”

  “It took you long enough. I left those messages two days ago. You at home?”

  “Not yet.” Camille was only two months older than me, but sometimes she behaved more like my mother than my actual mother did. We’d been BFFs since our freshman year i
n high school. Of all the friends I’d had over the years, she was the only one I trusted with my deepest, darkest secrets—not that I ever had that many in the first place.

  We’d had a lot of fun in our late teens, including a few wild parties; but in less than a year, that lifestyle had lost its appeal. We’d survived the chaotic 1990s and married respectable and successful men. Camille’s husband, Nick, managed an elite limo service, so she’d met dozens of our favorite A-list celebrities over the years. She’d even introduced me to a few.

  She interrupted my thoughts and asked, “What’s the point of you having a phone if you hardly ever use it?”

  I heaved out a loud sigh. “If I’d wanted to get chewed out, I would have called my mama,” I huffed.

  “You did!” she shot back.

  “Anyway, I had started home, but I was feeling a little down. I wanted to talk to somebody who could reenergize me. Do you know what today is?”

  “You ask me the same question on this date every year in December. Today is the second. How are you feeling?”

  “I don’t feel as gloomy as I did on this day last year. When the subject came up this morning, Eric told me I should talk to a professional about it. I don’t think it’s that serious.”

  “Well, if it’s still haunting you after twenty-five years, it’s serious.” We remained silent for a few seconds. “At the end of the day, you were lucky, and look where you are now. That’s all that really matters.”

  “You’re right. Besides, this is the season to be jolly! Let’s talk about something more uplifting, or at least something more interesting. I might go to the mall before I go home and do some more of my Christmas shopping. I thought I’d try and catch up with you now, because I don’t know what time I’ll make it home tonight. What’s up with you?”

  “Don’t ask. Girl, I had a rough day. The partners were in court all afternoon, and they left me a ton of work. I didn’t even have time to check my e-mail or take lunch,” she complained. “I know you can’t relate to people that do real work. . . .” Camille occasionally teased me about having such a laid-back job. To her, serving free meals was a no-brainer that didn’t require much effort. I always agreed with her, but I also pointed out that not many people wanted to do it, and I did.