Vindicated (17 page)

“Oh…yes,” the woman said. She breathed an obvious sigh of relief as her eyes flickered up from Caleb to meet Randy’s gaze. “It’s obvious. He looks just like you.”

“Let’s go, Daddy. I want to go with you.” Caleb’s face scrunched into a scowl.

The woman was on her cell phone before Randy could reply. She held a hand out to Caleb, warning him to wait. Randy frowned at her and knelt beside Caleb to tie his unlaced tennis shoe. She turned away and after a short, muffled conversation, gave Randy a polite but cold smile. “I spoke with his mother and she says you can’t take him.”

“I never said I was going to take him,” Randy said, his eyes trained on knotting the shoestring while Caleb fidgeted. “Stand still, buddy, so I can tie this.”

“Well, just so we’re clear.” She reached a hand out to Caleb, but he turned into Randy, burying his face in his shoulder.

“No,” he cried. “I want to go with you, Daddy.”

A chest-splintering ache ripped his guts as the boy clutched at his shirt and sniffled into his neck. Those gripping fists hurt more than the knife Pilar had put into his back. He rubbed a soothing hand over Caleb’s back and stood, clutching the boy to him.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he murmured. “You have to go with the lady, bud. But we’ll hang out another time, okay?”

“No,” Caleb wailed, kicking his feet. “No, Daddy. Take me with you.” The sobs came in earnest now, wracking the little body with an intensity that shattered the last of Randy’s self-control.

“Please, sir,” the lady said. She placed a hand on his arm. He shot a glance at her, causing her to reclaim her hand with a jerk. She took a step back and drew in a deep breath with a torn expression, clearly sympathetic to both father and son. “I really don’t want to cause a scene.”

A scene was the last thing he needed. Mitch would exercise his legal authority and turn this into some kind of altercation. Randy sighed in frustration as he tore the boy’s clutching hands from his shirt and handed him to the woman, feeling as if he’d handed her his heart.

Back in his truck, he punched the headliner with a fist. He’d tried to be the nice guy and work things out with Pilar, but damned if it had gotten him nowhere. He was done being nice. The morning with Karly reminded him how much his son meant to him. Her determination renewed his strength. Caleb was the one good thing to come out of the wreckage of his life, and he would not give him up.

Chapter 34

Four blocks south of Felony, a late nineteenth-century brown brick building housed the Midtown Soup Kitchen. It had been an opera house once upon a time and still boasted the fancy corbels and turrets from its heyday. Grayed plywood covered the windows, and graffiti splattered the walls. Seeing the line of bedraggled and forlorn patrons waiting on the sidewalk for hot meals on a cold winter day brought back a flood of bittersweet memories. The comforting scents of baking bread and simmering stew, the hustle and bustle of volunteers working to see that each and every visitor had food, and the underlying sense of hopelessness that clung to the patrons were all too familiar for Karly.

A plump middle-aged woman with snow-white hair, bearing a striking resemblance to Mrs. Claus, met her at the door. She bustled toward Karly with a look of frazzled panic on her careworn face.

"Thank goodness you're here," said the woman. She took Karly by the arm and tugged her toward the kitchen in the back. "The Goodwins didn't show, and we've got a record-breaking line of people out there. We can use every hand we've got." She shoved open the swinging doors to the kitchen. "Are you sure you're up for this?" The woman eyed her up and down with narrowed eyes. "Why, you're a bitty thing, aren't you?" She took an apron from a hook near the door and thrust it at Karly. "No matter. We'll take you. Now, the potatoes are over there. Start peeling."

"I think you have me confused with someone else," Karly said, unable to repress a smile of amusement at the woman's forthright manner. "I'm looking for Randy Mackenzie. Is he here?"

"Randy? You're not from the First Presbyterian Church?" The woman stopped short. Karly shook her head. The woman's shoulders drooped and she sighed like a deflating balloon. "Hmmm, let me see. I believe he's in the dining hall. Through the doors and to the right. You can't miss it." She turned and bustled off in the opposite direction, muttering and shaking her head.

When Karly found Randy, he was in the cavernous dining hall, standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a dozen shrieking children. She paused in the doorway to smile at the scene. He raised his arms, growled, and charged with mock ferocity at one of the smaller boys. Delighted squeals echoed throughout the room. Children shot off in all directions like playful bunnies. A vigorous game of tag ensued. Randy chased each child in turn until their cheeks glowed with excitement and glee. The sight of him, relaxed and playful, warmed her to the toes. He was so much more than she’d ever imagined. Her heart ached at the thought of his son, deprived of a father who so obviously loved children.

"Okay, that's enough," he said at last. "We've got to get the tables set before Mrs. Potts yells at me."

The children emitted a collective groan. A small boy with glossy curls clung to Randy's leg with a ferocity that brought a lump to Karly's throat.

Randy patted the boy on the head. "Come on, Jimmy. You put out the napkins." Within minutes, he’d organized a table-setting brigade from the group. The patter of tiny feet and childish chatter filled the air. Silverware clinked.

"Hey," she said and stepped into the room.

He glanced up, startled. Their eyes met and a rush of attraction flooded through her. Not the white-hot flood of sexual excitement from before but a subtle, pleasurable warmth, as if she’d stepped into a hot bath after a cold winter day.

"Hey. What're you doing here?" He disentangled Jimmy's hands from his pant leg and crossed the room to meet her.

"You dropped your wallet after class this morning. I stopped by Felony, and Jack said you were here." She took the wallet from her purse and held it up.

"I did?" He searched his pockets. "Shit. I didn't even notice. Thanks."

"Do you do this often?"

"Lose my wallet? No." He looked confused and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you mean the kids? Naw. The girl who usually watches them had an emergency and had to leave. I told Mrs. Potts I'd keep them entertained while she tries to get the meal ready."

"Randy-Bear. Up! Up!" A small voice floated up from the floor. Little Jimmy had hold of Randy's pants again and gave them a sharp tug. "Up!" Randy rolled his eyes and smiled then heaved the little boy up onto his shoulder. “So how was your interview this morning?”

She shrugged then sighed. “Same as always. I’m supposed to call back in a few days, which usually isn’t a good thing.”

"I wish I could talk but…" He gave a helpless shrug as two of the children began to cry.

"Right. I won't keep you," she said, but he’d already turned away to stop a little girl from beating another with her spoon.

She retraced her way through the building, each step coming slower than the first. When she reached the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Potts in front of a steaming kettle on the stove. Gray hair clung in damp wisps to her forehead. Two bewildered teenagers sat in front of a mountain of potatoes, making a weak attempt to peel them.

With her thoughts cluttered by debts, job interviews, and Emma, she continued down the hall. A woman about her own age stood near the front door, her hand caressing the head of a small girl about Emma’s age. The child’s clothes were tattered but clean. The woman looked less fortunate. She had no coat despite the wintry weather. They stepped aside to let Karly pass. The woman gave Karly a tired smile, and their eyes met. Karly saw herself reflected in the hunted gaze.

This could be me and Emma.
She smiled back, tightened the belt of her coat, and went out the door. Halfway down the steps, she stopped. Her life was a pathetic mess, but there would always be those less fortunate. She needed to thank her lucky stars for a roof over her head, however distasteful, and friends who cared enough to keep her afloat. Over the past few weeks, they’d buoyed her up, especially Randy. Whatever their differences, he’d shown generosity and kindness when she least expected it. The woman and child inside weren’t as lucky.

The clouds broke overhead and a stray beam of sunshine illuminated the steps. She turned and went back inside before she could change her mind. The woman and child were still inside the door. Karly slipped out of her coat and held it out to the woman.

“You don’t have a coat,” she said. “You’d better take this. It’s supposed to snow today.”

“I couldn’t, but thank you,” the woman replied. She lifted her chin and met Karly’s eyes with stubborn pride.

“I have a little girl about her age,” Karly said. “You need to take care of yourself for her.” She pushed the coat into the woman’s hands. “Please take it. I have another one at home.” This was a lie, but she’d pick one up at the secondhand store on the way home. “Just pay it forward when you get the chance.”

Chapter 35

Karly rinsed her hands in the sink, dried them on her apron, and stood back to admire her work. Beef stew bubbled inside three enormous stock pots on the stove. The cakes were iced. The biscuits were in the oven and would be ready in a few minutes. The Corbett brothers had managed to clean up the mess they’d made peeling potatoes. There was nothing left to do but serve the hungry and homeless people waiting outside.

She was about to go find Mrs. Potts and ask for instructions when a man came into the room. He wore a brown corduroy jacket, green T-shirt, and jeans with tennis shoes. An air of outgoing calm suggested he was in charge of the facility.

"There you are! The angel of grace." He rushed to her side, took her hand, and shook it gently. From the looks of his face, he was in his mid-thirties. A genuine smile of warmth and gratitude curved his lips. "I can't thank you enough, Miss…?"

"Uh, Karly. Karly Eriksson." She smiled back at him.

At the sound of her name, he cocked his head and tightened his grip on her hand. "Not
the
Karly? Randy's friend?"

"Well, yes."
The
Karly? What did that mean? She tried to pull back her hand, but he kept hold of it and placed his other hand on top of it. The grasp was unexpected but not unpleasant, especially with him smiling at her as if he'd resolved a long-lost secret.

"This is a pleasure, Miss Eriksson. Randy has told me so much about you. It's wonderful to finally put a face with the name. I feel like I know you already." Embarrassment heated her cheeks. He’d been talking about her? "Of course. Where are my manners? I'm Reverend Howell. My church runs this facility." He pumped her hand again enthusiastically. "Randy’s a regular around here. I don't know what we'd do without him. He's a godsend."

"Really? Randy?" So this was what he did with the little spare time he had? A wave of guilt washed over her at the memory of all her preconceived notions about him. She hated being judged, yet here she was, judging him to within an inch of his life. And by all accounts, he was nothing like the man she thought.

"Absolutely. He's been our biggest supporter since the get-go. He’s painted every room in this building, rewired the electric, and repaired drywall. Not only is he big on the outside, but he's got a heart inside to match." The reverend finally released her hand and took a step back to give her a thorough, non-threatening appraisal.

“Yes, he does,” she said softly. Blood rushed into her face like a tidal wave. The heat of it made her dizzy for a second.

"I’d love to speak with you some more, Miss Eriksson, but it's time to open the doors. Would you stay to help us serve? I don't want to abuse your generosity, but we really could use the help." Reverend Howell had a very charming smile, and he used it to advantage, she realized.

"I would love to stay," she said.

Everyone gathered in the dining hall while Randy opened the doors. There were only a half-dozen people running the show: Randy, Mrs. Potts, Reverend Howell, the potato-peeling teens, and herself. A throng of tired people crowded into the room with eager, hungry eyes that made her heart squeeze. Mothers with children clinging to their legs and teens with scared, hollow eyes made up the majority of the people. A few were men, stoop-shouldered and broken from an inhospitable life of disappointment. All were dressed in dirty, tattered clothing, but their faces lit up when they saw Randy and the others.

Randy greeted each of them with a handshake or a pat on the shoulder, called them all by name, and commented on some personal tidbit that brought light into their eyes. When the room had filled, Reverend Howell gave a collective greeting and asked everyone to join him in a quick prayer before the meal. Sneaking up to her on his stealthy ninja feet, Randy appeared at Karly's side. She knew he was there before she saw him. The tiny hairs on her right arm raised in salute to his masculine presence. A large hand clasped hers, fingers threaded, warm and calloused and strong.

Reverend Howell kept his prayer brief and to the point, which raised him another notch in her esteem. She expected Randy to release her hand when the Reverend finished, but he kept hold of it, linking them together. He introduced her to each person as if she were someone of importance.