Season of Joy

by Virginia Carmichael

A vision passed before him of men, young and old, lined up for limp broccoli served by a stunning blonde, while the regular servers stood abandoned, lasagna pans growing cold. “How about intake or administration? You would be working with Lana to get the paperwork in order and maybe interview new visitors or assign sleeping places.”

  She blinked and then nodded. “That sounds fine.”

  “We’ll need to get some basic information and do a background check for security reasons. But you can start today, helping out in the cafeteria. We’ve got a lot of prep work for Thanksgiving.”

  “Of course.”

  “Lana can help with the details.” He stood, offering his hand once more. “It was a pleasure to meet you and I’m grateful for your willingness to serve the disadvantaged in our community.”

  She stood, gripped his hand and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Grant’s heart flipped in his chest as their hands met and he looked into her eyes. Her heart-shaped face shone with hope and her bright green eyes glittered with unshed tears. There was more going on here than a rich person’s guilty conscience.

  But there was no way he was going to try to find out what. He had enough trouble keeping the mission afloat without adding a woman to the mix. Even a beautiful woman who reminded him that he might need something more than this place. Plus, with the secret he was carrying around, no woman in her right mind would want to get anywhere close.

  * * *

  Calista stood up, gripping the director’s hand, his movie-star good looks bearing down on her full force. The man should have a warning sign: Caution: Brain Meltdown Ahead. She could just see him in a promotional brochure, that slightly stern expression tempered by the concern in his eyes. He reminded her of someone, somehow.

  But her heart was reacting to more than his wide shoulders or deep baritone. The man had sincere convictions, he had substance and faith. There was nothing more attractive, especially in her job, where image was everything. She wanted to have a purpose in her life beyond making money and losing friends. She wanted to wake up in the morning with more to look forward to than fighting with her board of directors and coming home to a cat who hated her guts.

  She met his steady gaze and felt, to her horror, tears welling in her eyes. She tried to smile and thank him for the chance to work at the mission, but the words could barely squeeze past the large lump in her throat. Heat rose in her cheeks as she saw his look of confusion, then concern. He probably thought she was completely unstable, crying over a volunteer gig.

  She dropped his hand and immediately wished she could take it back. His hand was warm and comforting, but electrifying at the same time. A short list of things she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  “Let’s go get those papers from Lana, all right?” His voice had lost its brusque tone somewhat, as if he was afraid of causing her any more distress.

  Calista cleared her throat and said, “Lead the way.” She blinked furiously and turned toward the desk, hoping he couldn’t see her expression. If only he hadn’t sounded so sympathetic. If only he was pleasantly distant, the way a CEO is with employees. But he wasn’t like that; he wasn’t like her.

  Grant introduced them quickly. Lana was ready with a stack of papers and handed them to Calista. She could see why the mission had a purple-haired secretary. The woman was efficient and friendly.

  “Tell me when you need me and I can adjust my schedule pretty easily.” Calista bent over to fill out the papers. One of the perks of being CEO was she could take time off when she wanted some personal time. Not that she ever had before.

  Grant’s eyebrows went up a bit. “We’re short-staffed right now and we could really use some help in the mornings. Maybe Wednesdays?”

  “Sure, I can be here at seven.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wondered if that was too early. Maybe the staff didn’t get here until nine. But Grant only nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting the smallest amount. She wondered for just a moment what he looked like when he laughed...

  Calista’s cheeks felt hot as she dropped her gaze to the papers. Grant turned away to speak to a slim young man who was waiting behind them and Lana took the papers, glancing over them. Her eyes stopped at the employment section. “You’re head of VitaWow Beverages? I could use someone with a knowledge of grant writing.”

  “I’ve written a few grant applications but they weren’t for nonprofits. And it’s been a while.”

  “It was worth a shot,” Lana said, shrugging and stacking the papers together.

  “But I’m sure I could work on whatever you need,” Calista said quickly.

  Lana looked up, and Calista saw genuine warmth in the woman’s eyes. “That’s the spirit,” she said. “We have a grant-writing team that meets on Thursday evenings. There are only two of them right now because it’s the holiday season and everybody’s busy. It would be great to get some of these applications turned in before the January deadlines. Is that a good day for you? They might change the meeting time if you can’t come then.”

  “That’s fine. Thursday’s fine,” Calista said. Any evening was fine. Five years ago she’d been busy with the dinner-

  and-drinks merry-go-round. Once she was promoted to CEO, she cut out almost all the dinners. Of course, after she’d done so, Calista realized her schedule was completely empty. She was friendless and alone.

  “Grant is on the team, too. He can fill you in.”

  “Does the director usually work in the evenings?”

  Lana laughed, a lighthearted chuckle. “You don’t know the man. It’s all about the mission, all the time.” The smile slowly faded from her face. “I know he feels at home here, and we could never survive without him, but I wish...”

  Calista waited for the end of the sentence, but Lana seemed to have thought better about what she was going to say. She regarded Grant, deep in conversation with the young man, and a line appeared between her brows.

  “You’re afraid he’ll wake up one day and wished he’d put more time into his own life, something apart from the mission?”

  “Exactly.” She appraised Calista with a steady eye. “You’re good at reading people.”

  “I suppose I know what that feels like. And you’re right, it’s no fun.” Calista dropped her eyes to the desk, wondering what it was about this place that made her feel she could be honest. She wasn’t the CEO here, she was just a woman who had lost her place in the world.

  She turned back to her paperwork and said, “I can find my way to the cafeteria—”

  The end of her sentence was lost in the explosion of noise that accompanied a horde of children entering the lobby. They seemed to all be talking at once, the polished lobby floor magnifying the sounds of their voices to astounding levels. Just when Calista decided there was no one in charge of the swirling group of small people, two young women came through the entryway. One was short and very young, with a thick braid over her shoulder. The other was a powerfully built middle-aged woman with a wide face and large pale eyes. They were both wearing the mission’s khaki pants and red polos under their open coats. They were laughing about something, not concerned in the least that their charges were heading straight for the director.

  “Mr. Monohan!” A small girl with bright pink sunglasses yelled out the greeting as she raced across the remaining lobby space. She didn’t slow down until she made contact with his leg, wrapping her arms around it like she was drowning. He didn’t even teeter under the full impact of the flying body, just reached down and laid a large hand on the girl’s messy curls.

  A huge smile creased his face and Calista’s mouth fell open at the transformation. He was a good-looking man, but add in a dash of pure joy and he was breathtaking. She tore her gaze away and met Lana’s laughing eyes behind the desk. Of course, the secretary would think it was hilarious how women fell all over themselves in his presence. Cal
ista gathered up the papers with a snap, when she realized she was surrounded. A sea of waist-high kids had engulfed them, with the two women slowly bringing up the rear.

  She sidled a glance at Grant, hoping he would tell them to clear out and let her through. But he was busy greeting one child after another. How he could tell them apart enough to learn their names was really beyond her. They just seemed an endless mass of noise and motion, a whirl of coats and bright mittens.

  “Miss Sheffield, this is Lissa Handy and Michelle Guzman. They take the preschoolers down the block to the city park for an hour every day.” He was still mobbed by coats and children calling his name, but his voice cut through the babble.

  Calista raised one hand in greeting, trapped against the desk, but only Michelle waved back. Lissa seemed to be sizing up the new girl.

  She stood with her arms folded over her chest, unmoving. But Michelle reached out and touched her on the shoulder. “It’s wonderful to have new volunteers,” she said, her voice warm and raspy, as if she spent too much time trying to get the kids’ attention. She smelled like fresh air and snow, and Calista smiled back. Her clear blue eyes reminded her of Mrs. Allen, her third-grade teacher. That kindhearted woman had given her confidence a boost when she was just like these little people.

  “I don’t know how you keep them all from escaping. It must be like herding squirrels.”

  Michelle laughed, a full-throated sound that came from deep inside. “You’re right. The key is to give them some incentive. They head to the park okay, and then I tell them we’re coming back, but Mr. Monohan will be here. Easy as pie.”

  Calista glanced back at Grant, his wide shoulders hunched over a little girl who was excitedly describing something that needed lots of hand waving. He was nodding, his face the picture of rapt attention.

  “He seems really good with the kids. Does he have any of his own?” She suddenly wished she could snatch the words back out of the air, especially since it was followed by a snort from Lissa.

  Michelle ignored her partner’s nonverbal comment. “No, he’s never been married. I keep telling him he needs to find someone special and settle down. He was one of the youngest directors the mission had ever had when he started here, but this place can take over your life if you let it.”

  “But that’s what he wants, so don’t stick your nose in.” So, Lissa did have a voice. A young, snarky voice, coming from a sullen face. She flipped her dark braid off her shoulder and stuck her hands in her pockets. Calista wondered how old Lissa was, probably not more than nineteen. Just the age when a girl might fall in love for the first time.

  “You’ll understand when you’re older, Lissa. But there’s more to life than work, even if your work is filled with people like ours is here,” Michelle said.

  Lissa’s face turned dark and threatening, like a storm cloud. “You always say stuff like that. I don’t think my age has anything to do with my brain.”

  Spoken like a true teenager. Calista tried to smooth ruffled feathers. “Michelle’s right that everyone needs a family or friends separate from work.” Lissa’s face twisted like she was ready to pour on the attitude. Calista hurried to finish her thought. “But not everybody is happiest being married, with a family. Like me. I don’t think it would be fair to have a boyfriend when my work takes up so much of my time.”

  Lissa’s eyebrows came up a little and she shrugged.

  “But I could always use more friends.” That last part was a gamble, but Lissa seemed to accept it at face value. She relaxed a bit, the smile creeping back into her eyes.

  “Don’t know why you’d be looking for friends at this place, though.”

  Michelle gave Lissa a squeeze around the shoulders. “Come on, you found me here, right?” Lissa responded with an eye roll, but Calista could tell the young woman appreciated the hug and being called a friend.

  “Fine, but we got enough pretty people in here slumming it for the holidays. We don’t need any more.”

  “I can wear a bag over my face, if that helps.”

  Lissa let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah, you do that. Maybe you’ll start a trend.”

  “Maybe so.” Calista took one more glance back and started to laugh. Grant had a pair of bright pink sunglasses on his face and the kids were howling with laughter. Parents had started to show up to collect their children and they acted as if the scene wasn’t unusual at all.

  “Those are Savannah’s glasses. She never goes anywhere without them. He’s sure got a silly side,” Michelle said, chuckling. “But you’d never know it at first glance.”

  No, you wouldn’t. Not with that frown and the serious gaze. As if he could feel her looking at him, Grant glanced up and she saw the smile slip from his face. Calista felt her heart sink. Then again, she wasn’t here to get a boyfriend or find true love. She was here because her life had become a self-centered whirlpool of ambition, with her swirling around at the bottom like a piece of driftwood.

  Grant seemed to come to some kind of decision. He waded through the kids until he was standing next to them. “Miss Sheffield, it’s almost lunchtime. Why don’t you come in for something to eat and then I can introduce you to the kitchen staff?”

  Calista darted a glance at Lissa. The teen probably thought Calista had been angling for an invitation all along. But she couldn’t resist jumping at the chance to get to know this man better. She nodded quickly and he turned toward the far side of the lobby.

  “Is there a kid version of catnip? If there is, you must be stuffing your pockets with it.”

  “Nope, I just listen to them. It’s funny how many people forget that kids need someone to hear them,” he said, his words serious, but a grin spread over his features.

  At that moment, as they stood smiling at each other, the other side of the cafeteria door swung open and nearly knocked Calista off her feet.

  “Watch out! You shouldn’t stand in front of the door,” an old man shouted at her as she stumbled, struggling to regain her balance.

  “Duane, please keep your voice down.” Calista could tell Grant was angry, maybe by the way his voice had gone very quiet and dropped an octave or two. “Are you all right?” He reached out and rubbed her left shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact.

  She nodded slowly, distracted less by the pain than by the warmth of his hand. “Fine, not a problem.” Meeting the old man’s eyes, she was surprised to see such animosity reflected there. “I’m sorry I was standing behind the door.” When both sides were at fault, it was always best to be the first to offer an apology.

  But if she was hoping for reciprocation, it didn’t come. He blinked, one eye milky-white while the other was a hazy-blue, and sniffed. “You’re still standing here and I gotta get through.”

  Calista moved to the side immediately and let him pass. As they walked through the doors into the full dining hall, she glanced back at Grant. “Off to a good start, don’t you think?”

  Again that warm chuckle. She could get used to hearing that sound, even if she couldn’t get used to the way it ran shivers up her spine.

  “I think we’re off to a great start,” he said, and something in his tone made her look up. His smile made her heart jump into her throat and he stepped near. Although she knew the whole cafeteria was watching behind them, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his.

  Calista watched those blue eyes come closer, her heart pounding in her chest. Her brain seemed to have shorted out somewhere between the shoulder rub and the chuckle.

  Grant leaned forward, his gaze locked on hers, and then he looked directly behind her. “Scan it twice, please. She doesn’t have her guest pass yet.”

  Calista blinked and turned to see him holding out a security badge with a small photo in the middle. A pretty young woman sitting at a small table took the badge without comment and passed it twice through a card re
ader. Her dark eyes flicked up and down Calista’s outfit, then handed Grant the security badge.

  “We use visitor passes to keep track of how many meals are served,” he explained.

  “I see,” she said in a bright tone, but clenched her jaw at her own stupidity. Was she so lonely that any good-looking

  man caused her brain to shut down? Did she think he was leaning over to kiss her, in the doorway of the mission dining hall? She was so angry at herself that she wanted to stomp out the door. Except she had vowed to do something useful. Which did not include mooning over the director.

  She stood for a moment and gazed around at the dining hall. It was much bigger than the lobby and had an assortment of elderly, teens, women, men and what seemed like a hundred babies crying in unison. The noise was horrible but the smell wasn’t bad, not even close to what she remembered from “mystery casserole” day in grade school. The rich scent of coffee, buttery rolls, eggs, sausages and something sweet she couldn’t identify made her mouth water.

  “I haven’t eaten with this many people since college.” She peered around. “Is there a cool kids’ table?”

  He grinned. “Sure there is, but I don’t sit there.” He led her forward to the long line of glass-fronted serving areas. “Here are the hot dishes. We try to keep it as low-fat as possible. Over there—” he pointed to a wall that held row after row of cereal dispensers “—are the cold cereals and bowls. The drinks are self-serve, at the end of the row. Milk, juice, coffee, tea, hot chocolate. We don’t serve soda anymore.”

  Calista nodded. “I see that trend a lot.”

  “In schools? I’m sorry. I didn’t catch what you do.”

  “I’m the CEO of VitaWow.” She felt her cheeks heat a little at the words and was surprised. She was proud of her job, of how she’d turned the company into a national brand. But standing here, in this place, it didn’t seem as important.

  She watched his eyes widen a little. “I’ve heard good things about your company. Didn’t the city honor VitaWow with a business award?”