"Why?" she asked. I turned around to face her. She was standing at the back of my truck and looked ready to run.
"Why did I load my groceries inside the truck or why did I shop at this market?" I asked. Although slight, it brought the intended smile.
"Why do you want to buy me dinner?"
"The senior menu at Mike's is no big deal. Now, the two for one dinner special is really something." I said smiling.
"They don't want me in there."
"Well, going in with your grandfather may change that. We could even say it's my birthday and get a free desert."
"No really, why do you give a shit? What do you really want?"
"Let's start over. Hello, my name is Steve Gardener. I'll be sixty on my next birthday, not today so I would have been lying at Mike's. I haven’t shared a meal with someone for about three years. I just wanted to change that fact."
She stood there a moment. I watched her face display the conflicting thoughts she was processing. "I don't provide front seat services on back streets, old man."
"That's a relief. I was thinking a friendly face across the table sharing the dinner special." She relaxed a little I think, it was hard to tell through the layers of clothing. November in Salinas California gets pretty cold. I closed the passenger door and as I walked around the front of the truck, added, "It was just a thought, goodnight." I got in, started the truck and saw her move behind the car parked next to me. I backed out and stopped with her standing beside the passenger door. I told myself a count of five and I could leave without thinking I was giving up too easily.
She opened the door on eight, and leaned in. "I can't leave my stuff," she said.
"Will your stuff fit in the back of this truck?"
"It's only a duffle, but it's all I've got."
"Do we drive over or do you want to go get it and I'll wait here?" She took off walking toward the side of the parking lot and I followed in the truck. There was an area with mature trees behind a manicured hedge. I waited there at a break in the hedge that she walked through. She returned a few minutes later and set a three foot black duffle and sleeping bag beside the truck.
She opened the passenger door and peered in. "You'll bring me back here?" she asked.
"Door to door service. Do you need a hand loading that?" I asked her. She remained silent and I watched her scan the seat and dash board before she loaded her bags into the back of the truck. She sat down and closed the door watching me closely as we drove away.
We had driven about ten minutes without a word passing between us and when Mike's Diner came into view ahead on the left she said, "I don't mean to be ungrateful, it's … the twenty was more than enough." When I put the left turn signal on she relaxed a little, maybe just letting go of the breath she was holding.
"I really don't have a hidden agenda here. My friends call me Steve and you are?"
There was a definite delay in her response which I understood. She considered my question an invasion into her privacy and I didn't press the issue. When I parked the truck she said, "Debbie."
I held the front door at Mike's for her and she headed directly to the restrooms just off the lobby. The hostess saw us enter and asked me, "Two for dinner?" I told her yes and she guided me to a booth way in the back of the diner. I wasn't offended at her attempt to hide us as it seemed the additional privacy would put Debbie more at ease. The hostess set two menu's down and I ordered two cups of coffee and two waters then went back to the lobby to wait.
I waited fifteen minutes and it occurred to me she might have panicked and left while the hostess was leading me to our booth. I went out to the parking lot to see if her bags were gone, relieved they were still there, I returned to the lobby. She approached me carrying her coat turned inside out over one arm and the woman I pegged as mid to late twenties was in her late teens. I knew my surprise had to be all over my facial expression when the shock and pain ran through me. The heavy coat had also hidden that fact that she was pregnant.
"I asked for privacy in the back," I said and led the way. She tossed her coat in and slid into the booth beside it. I dropped my coat also and took the seat across from her. "I'm starving Debbie, you get whatever looks good."
She sipped some water and opened her menu. "I don't see the two for one dinner specials?"
"It's been a while. Maybe they don't have it anymore," I said with a weak smile. She looked at me a moment with a stern expression I read as getting caught in a lie then her face softened and with the hint of a smile. She turned her attention back to the menu.
"Have you ever eaten here before?" she asked without looking up.
"No, but I drive past it daily. Does that count?"
She let a small laugh escape and, relieved, I opened my menu. The waitress told us her name was Sandy and didn't hide the fact she stood beside me. "Have you decided, Sir?"
"Debbie, do you need more time?" I asked without facing the waitress.
"The fried chicken dinner for me," Debbie replied.
"And for you Sir?"
"Do you want soup and salad with that, Debbie," I asked with a little more emphases on Debbie than I intended, and turned to the waitress. "Could you please tell her what today's soups are?"
The waitress had refused to look at Debbie beyond the disgusted glance when she first approached our table and had moved dramatically away from Debbie to my side. I know, I was too sensitive to it, but it hit a nerve in me. When she started to tell me the soups, I cut her off.
"Sandy, this is my guest, Debbie. Please tell her your soups today." I said in a tone much calmer than I felt.
Sandy moved slightly toward Debbie. "Hello Debbie, we have a vegetable beef, chicken noodle and clam chowder."
"The vegetable beef, with extra crackers," Debbie said.
"Sandy, I'll have the New York steak, medium and a salad with blue cheese dressing."
"I'll be right back with the soup and salad," she said glancing between us and left.
"You didn't have to do that … Steve."
"I'm sorry. I don't make scenes, but that rudeness was uncalled for."
"I'm homeless. That’s not high on the social scale, I've adjusted." Our waitress set the soup and salad down and Debbie paused a moment with her head bowed. It was a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect she would attack her meal like a starved animal, but a prayer, thankful for what, a simple meal, her life on the street? We remained silent through our soup and salad. I tried not to stare at her as the redness of scrubbing her face faded into a soft youthful glow. My wife and I were never blessed with children and I knew when she passed three years ago that her first question was 'Why Lord, no babies?' I would have to wait for that answer and always envisioned my wife would be the one to explain it to me.
Our dinners came and we exchanged smiles as we began to eat. "My steak is perfect; would you like some.?"
She spread her hands and replied, "You don't think I have enough already?"
"I guess. I lost my wife three years ago … Thank you for coming with me, it's nice to share a meal again."
"You're thanking me?" she said and I sensed she wanted to say more, but I didn't need to hear her gratitude for a simple meal because I really was very grateful she was there.
This young girl was special. I wanted to know so much more and resisted voicing the questions racing through my mind. I had no idea what living on the street was like or had a conversation with someone who did. I've passed a few dollars through the side window of my truck at the person holding the cardboard sign with 'God Bless You' written on it. God has blessed me so I didn't get bogged down with the thought that the person holding the sign would get in their car and drive home at the end of another 'homeless' day. Debbie was clearly on the street and for once, that really mattered me.
"How's the chicken?" I asked her.
She looked up to face me and after swallowing, and said, "I think she's had better days, but I'm enjoying her sacrifice." The laugh we shared removed a layer of awkward sil
ence.
"A clever one I see; and you've literally taken your act on the road." I regretted saying that the moment it came out. She caught the humor a moment and then her smile faded as she turned back to her meal.
"I'm sorry, Debbie, that was stupid and insensitive of me."
"My act needs some work. I'm not in that five star hotel yet," she said giving me a forgiving smile. "It is what it is, Steve." She studied me for a moment. "I can see you are anything but insensitive, I'm sorry about your wife. Tell me about her."
We finished our meal with me dominating the conversation with my favorite subject, my wife Linda. Debbie seemed attentive and interested, but I wasn't sure if it was hearing about the love of my life or the avoidance of talking about her life. She passed on dessert and I held her coat in the lobby as she returned from the restroom again before we left.
I held the passenger door open for her and she slid in. When I started the truck she turned to face me. "Thanks for a wonderful meal and sharing Linda with me."
"Your company tonight was all the thanks I needed. Bending your ear about Linda was a pleasure I haven't had in awhile."
"Oh did I miss that she was special?" she said laughing.
I couldn't stop glancing over at her and laughing as I drove back to the supermarket parking lot. Light rain drops were hitting the windshield as I drove to the break in the hedges, her front door as promised. "Listen Debbie, I can't just leave you here to freeze in the rain."
"I have a plastic tarp, I'll be fine," she said turning to open the door.
"I have a roof and a guestroom, not the five star hotel you were looking for, but there are no services required to stay there." She paused a minute and I needed to drive the offer home. I wouldn't sleep knowing she was out in the rain. "A hot bath or shower and when I go to work in the morning you can run your stuff through the complimentary washer and dryer."
She stared out the windshield as the rain fall continued. "My first winter, I need to learn…"
I cut her off. "No Debbie, you don't need to learn tonight how to stay dry and warm in the trees. Gardner Manor has a vacancy."
"Look, Steve, I think you might be the exception, but you're not the first man to entice me with a hot bath. I've learned kindness is a mask on the street," she said and reached for the door. A cold wet blast hit her as she opened it. She pulled it closed again. "There's a mission on Twelfth Street, if I could trouble you?"
I turned up the heater and drove to the Twelfth Street Mission. When I pulled to the curb, fear was on her face when she turned away from a group of young men standing outside the mission. She didn't need to say a thing; her past attempt to hide the beautiful young woman beneath the layers of clothing had failed. I pulled away from the curb and drove home. When I pulled into my driveway the rain fall was heavier. I pushed the garage door button. "Gardener Manor welcomes you, Debbie."
"Only one night," she said conceding.
"As long as you want," I said as the garage door closed behind us. I showed her the guestroom and set her black bag down. We walked through the house and stopped at the guest bathroom.
"This one is all yours, I have my own bathroom. Make yourself at home. I leave early in the morning so make yourself some breakfast and use the washer and dryer. Just a minute," I said and went to my bedroom. I never could put Linda's things into boxes and found some flannel pajamas and a heavy terry cloth robe. "You're welcome to these. I think somehow Linda would be very pleased. Well goodnight, Debbie."
"Nicole," she said and she walked into the bathroom. Nicole I said to myself and felt a delightful pleasure when the tub started filling. Thank you Lord passed my lips as I headed to the living room. I pulled a couple novels from the bookcase and set them on her bed then as it was only eight pm, turned the TV on. Scanning the channels it didn't surprise me, 'Miracle on 34th Street' was on and I eased into my recliner to watch it. She appeared in the hallway forty-five minutes later wearing the robe. "Thank you Steve, for everything. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Nicole," I said and watched as she turned and headed to the bedroom.
Watson Manor,
New Challenges
Chapter 1
My head was throbbing when I woke in the hospital bed. The lights in the room were dim and it must have been at night as the windows were dark. Someone was asleep in a chair, a man, and panic ran through me and I wanted to scream. Pain shot through my head as I turned my head for a better look at him. It wasn't Paul and I relaxed a little. I'd brought my free hand up, my other arm was taped down with IV tubes leading away. I discovered my head was tightly bandaged. I felt drowsy, but I could focus my eyes across the room. I was concerned about my eighth grade students. The end of the school year was just weeks away. How did I get here, a car accident? Did Paul hit me this hard?
My left hand found a pendant with buttons, and I raised it for a better look. Confusion filled me with the sight of an engagement and wedding band on my finger? Was this all a dream?
"Jenny! Thank God you're awake," the man said with a beaming grin. He came closer. I hadn't realized that he'd woken up from the chair.
"What happened?" I asked him.
"A drunk driver ran a stop sign … pushed you sideways through the intersection. We'd thought …Well, thank God you're OK now." He stood over me, tears welling in his eyes, and he was holding my hand. I'd studied his face and saw concern, and he added, "I'll get the doctor." He left the room. There were flowers everywhere and I could smell the fragrance filling the room. The pendant allowed me to raise the back of the bed into a half sitting position. The man brought a nurse back with him.
"Jenny, welcome back. I've called Dr. Franklin. You've had us all very worried," she said. I saw Stacy on her name placard, and her manner indicated I should know her also.
"How long have I been here?" I asked.
"It's been six days, Jenny. You've had a traumatic head injury," Stacy said and paused watching me closely. Her friendly smile faded to concern as she turned to the man and asked, "Jenny, do you know who this is?"
I studied him again and sadness stole his hopeful grin as he moved around to my left side. I drew a complete blank and it was painful to watch his face. My thumb found the rings on my finger, and as he'd been sleeping in the chair beside my bed, it seemed to follow. "My husband?" He glanced at my left hand still twisting the rings and turned to face Stacy.
"Charlie, we anticipated some memory loss, but it could all come back in time," she told him, and then she turned back to face me. "What do you remember, Jenny?"
"I'm sorry, things are not very clear to me," I told her and looked at him. "Charlie?"
"Yes, Jenny. I'm Charlie. We've been married for three years. You're surrounded by people that love you and want only to help," he said and took my hand again. It was all so overwhelming. I searched his face for a spark of recognition. It was a face that I'd give a second look at, and that gave me hope it would all come back to me.
"Three years? I remember a new apartment. Paul, was abusive, my ex-boyfriend, but I'm not, Jenny Stevens, anymore am I?"
"You're Jenny Watson, but we'll take it slow," Charlie said. I saw hope returning to his face. "The only important thing now, is that you've survived the accident."
I saw the doctor came into the room. Charlie moved back away from the bed to let him come beside me. He was very distinguished looking, mid-fifties with a neatly trimmed beard. He looked like he could have just walked of the set of General Hospital in his stiff white lab coat.
Stacy told him, "Alert, but with some memory loss, Doctor."
"Hello Jenny, I'm Doctor Franklin. We're thrilled you're awake." He took a pen from his pocket and moved it in front of my face. "Any trouble focusing on this, Jenny?"
"No. My head is pounding, and concentrating is difficult, but I see your pen."
He pulled the sheet back to expose my feet. "Can you wiggle your toes? Any feeling of numbness in your legs or arms?" he asked. I passed his tests enough it brought a smile to
his face and he responded, "Wonderful. I'm increasing your pain meds, and will change your bandages," he told me and then turned to Charlie. "Mr. Watson, this is all very encouraging. I hope to have her out of bed this afternoon for a little exercise. You can come back, say around four."
"Thank you, Doctor. Jenny, I'll see you later," he said and left the room.
"My memory, Doctor?" I asked him.
"Mrs. Watson, Jenny, I'm thrilled with your motor skills, vision and speech. There is still some swelling from your severe head trauma. To be honest, your memory may come back in confusing patches, completely or not at all. But, what is very encouraging to me," he said pointing to the flowers surrounding the room, "is you have a loving support team. And that husband of yours hasn't left your side."
"I'm not ungrateful. I know, I could have been killed in the accident or paralyzed. The other driver, is he ok?"
"It's no wonder you're surrounded by so many that care about you. He had benefit of an airbag that you didn't have with the side impact. I know it will be frustrating. Don't dwell on what memories are not there, just move forward. Get some rest now." He pushed a button on the pendent and I felt warmth and the throbbing in my head fading as I dozed off.
*****
Someone called my name, and I opened my eyes. Stacy, the nurse was standing beside me. Behind her the windows were still dark so I thought it was a short nap.
"Doctor wants you on your feet. Are you ready?" she asked me.
"Is it still the morning?"
"You slept through the day, Jenny. It's six-thirty in the evening. How are you feeling?"
"In a fog. Is there any chance I could walk to a shower?"
"Maybe tomorrow? Let's see how well you walk first," she said helping me sit up and slid some slippers on my feet. Stacy pushed a walker toward me. "Slowly now, you'll probably feel dizzy and very heavy. We're not in a hurry here."
"My husband, Charlie. Missed him today?"
"He was here with your … We'll talk after your walk." She was right. I felt like I was lifting three hundred pounds as I stood up. I'd lost a hundred of those pounds as we circled back from the end of the hallway toward my room. My pace improved as we approached the door to my room. "You've done very well, Jenny. We don't need to push it now."
Watson Manor Investigations (Watson Manor Mystery Series Book 3) Page 21