“She’s a wonderful little girl.”

“A bit precocious at times.” I found it was necessary to keep the conversation going, needing to keep my mind away from these alien feelings. “Did she happen to say anything about what she wanted for Christmas?”

“Christmas was all she talked about,” she told me.

It was apparent my daughter was a subject we were both comfortable enough to discuss. “Did she mention anything in particular?” I asked.

“She did. She claims she’s getting too big for dolls but there’s this one Barbie doll that caught her eye.”

I knew next to nothing about the doll market.

Shopping for Mark was much easier for me. My son enjoyed videogames and I’d recently taught him to play chess. Mark was easy to shop for, but when it came to Sarah I was at a loss.

Stopping at a red light, I glanced over at Shay. “Would you mind…seeing how well you know Sarah…but only if it’s convenient, if you have time…I could really use some help with my Christmas shopping, especially when it comes to Sarah.”

Shay’s gaze flew to mine. “Sure. I guess. I mean, if you’d like.”

“Great.” I wasn’t asking her out on a date. She was doing me a favor. That was all this was.

After dropping her off at the tiny house where she lived among a row of other tiny houses, I headed back to the parsonage, grinning the entire way. As I returned to the house, whistling, both children glanced up at me with a look of surprise.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re smiling, Dad,” Mark commented.

“Is that so unusual?”

Both children continued to stare at me as if the answer was a given. I’d told Shay I’d pick her up after her shift at the diner the following afternoon and we’d head over to the mall. As I made sandwiches for dinner, I wasn’t able to keep the smile off my face.

Monday morning I arrived at the café and noticed what looked to be someone wrapped up in a blanket, a figure of a man huddled up against the cold, sitting along the side of the building. He had a thin blanket around his shoulders and had his legs tucked up under his chin, with his head resting on his bent knees. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen this homeless man at the café. I knew he slept there because of the warm air coming up from a nearby grate.

Sadie, another one of the servers, had shooed him away Friday last week, claiming the homeless discourage customers. I knew she had the welfare of the café in mind, but I couldn’t help remembering my own predicament when I’d been released from prison. Just over a year ago, that could have been me doing my best to sleep on the street because I had nowhere else to go.

While Sadie was busy in the kitchen, I kept thinking about the man on the street. I didn’t want to get involved. He needed to be gone. Half angry with myself, I poured a cup of coffee, paid for it myself, and took it out to him.

“Here,” I said gruffly, shoving the cup of coffee at him.

He looked up and tossed aside the blanket, probably thinking I was giving him the coffee as incentive to leave.

“I’m moving,” he muttered, not making eye contact.

“Don’t leave on my account. The coffee is to help you keep warm.” I squatted down so I could see his face. His eyes had bags under them, as if he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a good long while. His face was dirty and he needed a shave. “I added sugar and a little cream. Hope you like it that way.”

He eyed me skeptically. “You put anything else in there?”

He was afraid I was trying to drug him or something. “No. Just sugar and cream. My name is Shay. I work here at the café.”

“I’m Richard.” He took the foam cup from me, tasted it, and regarded me suspiciously. “Why you doing this?”

I shrugged and figured he deserved the truth. “Not so long ago I was about to be homeless. I’m not and I’m grateful.”

He nodded, holding on to the cup with both hands. “Coffee tastes good. Thank you.”

“You eaten lately?” I asked.

“I’m okay. I’ll head to Sally’s for breakfast.”

“Sally’s?” I didn’t know of any restaurant in the area by that name.

“The Salvation Army. We call it Sally’s around here.”

That explained it. “You take care.”

He nodded and saluted me with the cup. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I headed back into The Corner Café and found Sadie waiting for me, hands braced against her hips. I respected Sadie; she called it like she saw it and didn’t take any guff from the customers or the staff. We worked well together.

“You’re encouraging that old man to hang around here,” she said, cutting me with a look.

“Just bought him a cup of coffee. In case you didn’t notice, it’s cold out there.”

“I noticed.” Glancing over her shoulder, she looked into the kitchen. “Don’t you let Frankie know what you’re doing. He doesn’t take kindly to the homeless hanging around here.”

“Gotcha,” I whispered back.

Sadie started filling the napkin dispensers at the counter. “That soft heart of yours is going to be a problem. You can’t save the world, Shay.”

“True,” I agreed, “but I can give one old man a cup of coffee.”

Sadie threw back her head and let out a roar of a laugh. The door opened and we had our first customer of the morning. We did a bustling business between six and nine, both of us running our feet off.

I didn’t have time to think of anything else other than getting those breakfast platters out while the food was hot. At ten-thirty, business had slowed down to a trickle. It was the break Sadie and I needed before getting hit with the lunch crowd.

Frankie, the owner, had a reputation for serving comfort food and for giving customers their money’s worth. One of his breakfasts would feed me for three meals. My one meal a day came from the café and I made sure it lasted. I was saving my money for business classes. Tips were decent, and collecting a paycheck helped me meet expenses.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Sadie asked, while resting her feet and sipping a cup of coffee. Because she was older and had seniority, she got the first coffee break.

“I’ll be with friends.” Lilly Palmer had invited me to join her family. I’d hardly known what to say when she’d asked me to come to her house. The invitation had been unexpected. It showed her belief in me that she was willing to open her home and introduce me to her family. Her trust was a gift, same as it had been with Drew and his children. It made me more determined than ever not to disappoint her.

After my own break, which was shorter than I would have liked, the lunch crowd started to arrive. Frankie baked his own bread, and his sandwiches were some of the most popular items on the menu. I was sure the special, his meatloaf sandwich, would sell out before noon.

I served the counter while Sadie and Alice managed the floor. As soon as one seat emptied, someone else took the spot. After removing the dirty dishes and wiping the area clean, I looked up to greet my new customer.

Drew.

I nearly dropped the water glass, and right away my heart started this crazy staccato beat that echoed in my ears.

“Hi,” I said, trying desperately to hide my nervousness.

“Hi.” He reached behind the sugar canister for the plastic-coated menu.

“What can I get you to drink?” I asked.

“Coffee.”

“You need cream?”

“No, thanks.”

I poured him a cup and returned the glass pot to the heater. The ding behind me told me an order was up and I quickly turned, hoping it was one of mine. I needed an excuse to move away and calm my pounding heart. Unfortunately, it was Alice’s order.

“What’s the soup today?” Drew asked.

“Cream of broccoli.”

He scrunched up his nose. “How’s the chili?”

“I haven’t had any complaints.” I hadn’t sampled it myself, but it appeared to be a popular menu item.

“Anything you’d care to recommend?”