Over the past two months, Harper, Theo, and Flynn had banded the community together and organized not one but two fundraisers for the Full Spoon. One a family-fun day, the other a gala event. She hadn’t thought about the gala, as she would never have been able to afford to put something like that together, and she wouldn’t accept a handout of either Flynn’s or Theo’s money. But when the wealthier communities heard of the misfortunes that had befallen Harper, they came running with checkbooks open, and Flynn’s community had agreed to host the event.
The gala had been the previous weekend, and the city had surprisingly honored Harper with the key to the city, stating any woman who had been attacked and yet refused to back down and give up her cause deserved to hold the city in her hands. And truth be told, seeing the smiling faces at their fundraising family-day barbecue, she sort of felt like she did.
Flynn and a few other volunteers were manning the barbecue. He’d stuck by his misogynistic joke that men were the kings of the barbecue, and it was their job to grill the meat up. For that, Harper had given him three of her best cooks for help; all happened to be women who didn’t take any shit from grandstanding men. They had quickly shoved him aside at the beginning and wouldn’t let him back on the grill until he’d proven himself worthy of the noble task. A couple of the women owned their own restaurants. She didn’t care who was manning the grill—or
womanning
the grill, as it were—as long as the food came out sumptuous and delicious.
Just because she served the homeless didn’t mean the food couldn’t be good. They deserved that much, at least.
But today wasn’t only for the homeless. There were families and neighbors from all over the city, sitting at the folding picnic table and chairs. Officer Reynolds came up with the amazing idea of setting up volleyball nets, soccer goal posts, and relay races for the kids. Daniel Webster Park was an underutilized and ill-cared-for public park, but she could see this sort of thing becoming an annual or maybe a weekend event in the summer, a little boost to help raise money for the Full Spoon and remind the people of the community that there were those who needed their help.
At night they could set up a big movie screen and projection; maybe in the afternoon they could show kids’ movies. Perhaps if there were enough local vendors, an affordable farmers’ market could be set up on Saturday or Sunday mornings. There was a great amount of potential for this city, to make it better, not gentrify it, the way the bank wanted to do.
You could improve a city without kicking its people out. You only had to offer a helping hand.
“Ms. Pettinger.”
Harper looked up from filling up plates of food to see a face she’d never thought to see again. Her heart jumped, and she handed off the plate to one of the volunteers. She couldn’t get around the serving station fast enough to throw her arms around the older man grinning at her. He hugged her right back, and she was grateful, because if it weren’t for Mr. Hobbs, her old account manager at National Trust, she wouldn’t have this opportunity.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you.”
They pulled out of the hug to step away from the line. Harper linked her arm into Mr. Hobbs’s as they strolled around the park, watching the kids playing whatever game had struck their fancy. Mr. Hobbs looked good, for a man she had to assume was at least in his midseventies. His hair was fully white now, at least what was left of it, and his belly had become decidedly rounder. Maybe retirement was suiting him well.
“Mr. Hobbs—”
“Harper, call me Daniel. I’m not your business associate anymore.”
“Right.” She grinned sheepishly. “How did you manage to stick that clause in?” She didn’t have to explain what she meant. He wouldn’t have been at the picnic if he didn’t know how she had managed to accomplish three months’ payment free. “I know it wasn’t there when we originally signed the papers.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He glanced down at her, a twinkle in his eye. “This is strictly off the record.”
“Of course.”
“Those bastards—excuse my language, but that’s what they are—at the corporate bank came in to take over and fired everyone. And I mean everyone. From the tellers to the cleaning crew. They didn’t have to do that. Larger banks absorb banks all the time, but they keep the employees. It’s good to have those connections to the customers that only our account reps had. But they didn’t care. They wanted
their
people, workers with the right mindset, to get the job done. Ridiculous.”
“They fired you too?”
“Actually, I was planning to retire anyway, so it didn’t affect me. But there were others in the bank who needed the job. Needless to say I was angry…and became enraged when I heard what they’d planned for your neighborhood.”
“Planned? You mean the gentrification.”
“Not only that, but they looked at your record, saw how many times you’ve been a day or two late, and then they looked at the parcel of land your building was on. That area is prime picking for gentrification. Hardly anyone lives there, and there are no businesses open save yours. With new buildings and fixed-up streets, it’s close enough to the center of town to work for them.”
“If they brought in the
right
kind of people.”
“Exactly. I knew you were usually good for the payments; it was why we were so lenient on you when you were late. It was only by a day. I know it’s hard to get donations for the Full Spoon, but it’s important to keep it open.”
“Thank you, Daniel.”
“You do good work here, Harper. And the day you came in to sign the new documents, the corporate bank’s version of the mortgage, I quickly added a clause and, when they weren’t lookin’, had you sign it.”
She thought for a moment. “It was that last piece of paper. The one we signed too fast to have me read.”
“Yup. Those idiots were none the wiser. They put it in their file for the top of the bank to sign, and he signed because at that point, all their lawyers had gone over everything, and he signs where he’s told. Worked out pretty well if I do say so myself.”
She couldn’t believe how cunning her old loan manager had been.
“I think it worked out damn well. How about some barbecue, Daniel? One of my boyfriends thinks he has control of it, but the women are the ones putting that special flavor on ’em.”
“I love barbecue. But don’t tell my wife,” he said, rubbing his extended belly. “She thinks I’ve become sedentary in my retirement. Don’t know why she thinks that. I’m only enjoying all life has to offer.” It wasn’t until Harper was scooping the food onto his paper plate that he asked, “One of your boyfriends? Kids these days…”
She laughed and, after they ate, was proud to introduce him to both her boyfriends. Flynn had finally been allowed back on the grill, his humility restored thanks to the lady chefs, and Theo had taken it upon himself to get the kids up and moving with some fun field games. A sleeping Ben was in his arms, his face still covered in barbecue sauce, as Theo showed the kids how to play red rover.
His expression lit up when he saw her. “Hey, sexy.” He spotted the old gentleman with her and backtracked, probably assuming he was a donor of some sort. “Sorry.”
“No sorry!” Daniel laughed. “You tell her you think she’s beautiful as often as you can. It’s kept me married these past forty-five years.”
“It helps that it’s true,” Theo said, his charm on full blast.
“That it does.”
Harper introduced them, becoming embarrassingly teary when she told Theo how Daniel had saved the kitchen. Daniel was all humility about it, though, a true hero. He was the one who should have the key to the city.
“How can I ever repay you, Daniel?” she asked later in the day.
“Keep this place running, expand it. Open other locations. I know you can do it, Harper. I wouldn’t have volunteered to be your account rep if I hadn’t thought you capable of that and more.” He hugged her again, telling her to keep in touch, then went off to meet his wife for dinner.
“Think that’s gonna be us when we’re older?” Flynn asked, wrapping her up in his arms. Theo came to her opposite side. Ben, now off with Marcie and John, was probably eating more cake or ice cream.
“I hope so,” Theo said, leaning against the both of them, smiling with an open expression he’d only recently come to wear consistently throughout the day, his heart, while not fully open, expanding with every love-filled moment they spent together.
“I know so.” She sighed into their arms and breathed them in.
Loose Id Titles by Ceri Grenelle
A New Resolution
Food for the Soul
* * * *
“Christmas is Love”
Part of the anthology
The Gift of Three
Kaitlin Maitland and Allie Quinn
Ceri Grenelle
I’ve always had an active imagination. That imagination usually took form in the real world by zoning out in the middle of conversations. I eventually decided it was time to share my daydreaming with the world and began to put my musings on paper, a decision I have yet to regret.
I am currently living it up in Northern California after a big move from New York City. And by living it up I mean staying at home with my cat, obsessively watching episodes of my favorite TV shows—all of which are extremely geeky—and simultaneously reading the next book on my constantly expanding reading list. I do all this while trying not to pig out on unhealthy snacks. As you can tell, I lead a busy life.
Please visit
http://www.cerigrenelle.com/
for more information about me.