Jasper’s: Takoda Outreach Center #1

by Cee, Sammi

  At the ringing on my computer, my stomach instantly cramped. It was the call I’d been dreading since I’d made the decision to leave Rizziono’s. A braver man would’ve called their parents as soon as they’d taken a new position somewhere else; it’s what I should’ve done, but I wanted to ride the high of taking control of my own life for a few days.

  While I didn’t have casual friends to run around with, I did have a couple of old friends to call. My best friend from culinary school teasingly asked if I’d started using drugs. As much as he thought it crazy to give up my job, he’d understood my desire to get away from my parents’ circle. My best friend from high school hadn’t hesitated to scream that it was about time I took initiative and created my own life. It was under his advice that I’d quit procrastinating and sent an email to my mother’s and father’s personal assistants requesting a video chat.

  Dropping down into the chair at my computer desk, I answered brightly, “Hello, Mother, Father.”

  “Caleb.” My mother sat primly at the small, round table in her sunroom. A pretty porcelain tea cup with a rose pattern around the rim sat to her right and her hands were out of sight, most likely folded in her lap. “Sit up, dear.” Posture meant a great deal to Mother, so I stiffened my spine and arched my shoulders back uncomfortably—with a smile.

  “Caleb, what’s this about?” my father demanded, glancing up from under his glasses before he returned to staring down at some papers before him. Behind him, I could see the rich brown leather chair that resided in his office at Krankin and Darsky Holdings, where he was president. “You have five minutes. I have a meeting.”

  “I’m sorry, Father. We don’t have to do this now. I told Sabrina to make the appointment when you have time.”

  “Mrs. Wescott,” he stressed, “knows that I don’t keep family waiting. However, if you want to speak during business hours, you take whatever time I can give you.” I fought an eye roll. For Father, being awake constituted business hours.

  “Really, Caleb. I don’t know why you bother your father during the day, dear. He’s much too busy. Can’t this wait until you have a night off? You can come for dinner.”

  Her none-too-subtle hand smack, because what she really meant was my dad was much too important—not busy, gave me the courage I needed. “Sorry, Mother. I’ve given my two weeks notice at Rizziono’s, and I’ll be starting my new position before I have a night off. I didn’t want you two to hear it through the grapevine.”

  My mother gasped, but waited for my father’s reaction. He looked up from whatever had held his attention in front of him, pulling his glasses off and narrowing his eyes at me. “Caleb, what is the meaning of this? Your mother had lunch there yesterday, and the server mentioned you were leaving, but I assured her that it had to be a mistake. You’d never leave Patrick in the lurch like that.”

  I cleared my throat, but smiled politely. “I can assure you, Father, I didn’t leave Mr. Rizziono in the lurch. Gordon, my sous chef, is perfectly capable of taking over as head chef. In fact, Mr. Rizziono and him have been rather excited planning a few menu changes. Mother, I promise that you and the ladies will be extremely pleased with the items Chef Gordon will be adding to the menu.”

  “Oh, well…” Mother trailed off, her gaze flicking to my father’s. When he remained silent, but settled back in her chair, she asked, “And who has stolen you away from our dear friend Patrick?”

  Confidence. Must show no fear. I smiled brightly and said excitedly, “Actually, no one stole me away. I applied for a job at Takoda Soup Kitchen and they hired me.”

  They blinked.

  “They ran an ad right after the first of the year seeking a new chef—”

  “Soup kitchens don’t have chefs, Caleb. They have cooks,” my father interrupted.

  “Yes, well, Father. I’m a chef and I’ll be providing the evening meal there five to six nights a week, and I’d like to think I’m a chef no matter what kitchen I’m in.”

  “Caleb, this is a joke right?” my mother asked with a hopeful lilt in her voice.

  “No, Mother. I’m very serious. I met with the men who started the soup kitchen, and they have big plans for the coming year. It’s a worthy endeavor and a way to give back. I’m sure you understand,” I appealed to her philanthropic side. Although, I’d yet to have ever worked out if she had a heart for helping others or if good deeds were just another box to be checked off for a woman in her position.

  Father’s narrowed-eyes hardened. “People like us give money, Caleb. We don’t go around working for pennies and wasting our talents on people who can’t appreciate them.”

  “But, Father—“

  “Enough, we’ll discuss this later. If you want to help the poor or whatever, I’m sure your mother can find you a charity to send a big check to,” he said dismissively.

  “I’ve already told them I’ll be joining their team and I’ve given Mr. Rizziono notice. Besides, Gordon’s earned his promotion to Chef, and I won’t take that away from him.”

  “Of course you will, dear. Your father will call Patrick and smooth this all over for you. And really, Gordon’s at least ten years older than you. If he had the skill you had, he’d have been a chef in a restaurant by now.”

  “Mother, Chef Gordon’s talent has never been an issue. I’ve been afforded opportunities most aren’t given. He’s a perfectly respectable age to be reaching the level of chef in a restaurant of Rizziono’s caliber.”

  “So you understand what our family name has done for you; what I’ve done for you, and you choose to squander that opportunity?” he asked in his no nonsense way.

  “Father—”

  “No.” He flipped his hand, waving me off. “Some of us have real jobs to do. Gwendolyn, deal with your son.” Then with a click of his mouse, he was gone.

  “Caleb, I understand I think, but I’m sure I can find some way for you to get this need to help out of your system without embarrassing your father.”

  “Just Dad, or you too, Mom?” She shifted in her chair while averting her gaze, something my usually proper mother didn’t do. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I will be leaving the care of the kitchen at Rizziono’s to Chef Gordon. I hope you give him a chance. My last meal service is Saturday night, unless you want to come to the soup kitchen?” I arched a brow.

  Mother’s expression faded from startled to aghast and I knew I had to disconnect before I said something I’d regret. “Sorry, Mother, I have a few things to accomplish before leaving for the restaurant.”

  “Of course, dear. I do so hope you’ll reconsider…this soup kitchen thing.”

  Giving her a tight smile, I nodded and disconnected, more determined than ever that I’d made the right decision. If the vision of a slim, young man with black hair floated through my mind, it was no one’s business but my own.

  Chapter Two

  Jasper

  “Is it that time already?” Miss Emma asked softly from the double bed in the back of the RV we’d been squatting in since late November.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back, glancing to where the two boys slept curled up on the island beds, lying head to head.

  “Okay.”

  She began to scoot down the bed, moving slowly with age and dragging the three blankets with her to protect her from the morning chill. I finished jamming my foot into my boot and scrambled back to stop her. “Miss Emma, it’s supposed to be frigid cold today. They were saying yesterday it’ll probably be the lowest temperature we’ve had yet this winter. I brought home some rolls last night and there’s still peanut butter. I think you and the boys should stay here under the blankets today until you leave to eat dinner. I really wish you guys would just come to the soup kitchen with me today.”

  Miss Emma reached up a hand and cupped the side of my face. “I know you do, Jasper, but you know.” She motioned toward the two brothers. “We can’t risk anyone asking questions about PJ.”

  I leaned into her dry, wrinkled hand, noting how cold it already
was from the air in the unheated RV since she’d pulled it from under the blankets. She worried about the boys, and I did too, but we’d gotten lucky with a mild winter, and it had still taken a toll on the older woman’s body. “It’s only supposed to drop below freezing for a couple of weeks. I doubt anyone will ask too many questions if you three only show up until it gets warmer.”

  “And what if they do?” She patted my cheek with a little more force than necessary before dropping her hand. “You’ve got a good deal over at that soup kitchen. You work hard for them all day, and in return, they’re keeping you warm and dry all day. It does my heart good knowing you’re not suffering.”

  “But what about you all? If I stopped helping out there, you and the boys could start going to eat there again, even a couple of days a week. They’re really good to people, Miss Emma. You three could scrub up in the bathroom there with a little privacy. Avi would make sure of it.”

  She clucked her tongue. “I don’t want you asking any of your bosses for favors on our account. You know that.”

  Technically, they weren’t my bosses. Even though they’d offered to pay me, I wouldn’t accept their money. So many needy people came to eat there every day, and I knew Fisher needed the money they’d pay me to buy food. I demanded they treat me like a volunteer, just like everyone else who helped out. “That’s what I’m telling you, though. I wouldn’t even have to ask. Avi’s a good man. He’d want to help you. I know we have to protect the boys, but you guys need to eat more. And I’m worried about you with this weather,” I said earnestly. Miss Emma hadn’t ever told us her age, but she had to be in her late sixties, if not older.

  “There’s nothing to worry about.” She scooted on her butt back toward the front of the double bed. “The church over on Rosemont’s soup kitchen is open today, and their pastor makes one heck of a chicken pot pie.”

  I sighed and shook my head. She had made up her mind. “It’s the last Wednesday of the month, huh?” I asked with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I hated that she tracked her days by the serving menus of local soup kitchens.

  Miss Emma flashed me a big smile. “It sure is. My favorite day of the month.”

  I went to the sink to brush my teeth, but before I put the toothbrush in my mouth, I said, “Promise me one thing.”

  “If I can, I will.”

  “If it’s below freezing all day, please, go eat and then head on over to the shelter in time to get cots. None of us have been there in months, so you’ll be able to stay for at least a few nights without drawing attention. Please. I’d feel better knowing you’re in a warm building,” I said, practically begging.

  In the faint light coming through the windows, I saw her mouth twist down in a frown. “You know the boys and I don’t like staying at the shelter without you. I know you don’t think you can leave your soup kitchen in time to get a bed, and the thought of you out in the cold alone…” She gave her head a hard shake. “No, I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s not like I’ll be out on the streets all by myself. I’ll be here, and with you three gone, I’ll drag all the extra blankets back here and tuck away in your bed. I’ll be snug as a bug.”

  As she laid her head back onto the pillow, I heard her murmur, “We’ll see.”

  Quickly, I finished getting ready. Today was Caleb’s, the new chef’s, first day planning the menu and placing the order to our vendors. Fisher, one of the founders of our soup kitchen and the former head cook, had planned on spending a couple of week’s with the new guy, but the expansion of Takoda Soup Kitchen to Takoda Outreach Center was progressing quicker than anyone had anticipated and all hands were needed on deck. Since I’d been working with Fisher in the kitchen for over six months, they’d asked me to babysit the new guy and show him the ropes.

  I opened the door to leave the RV as quietly as possible, but Archie’s voice halted my exit. “Be careful, Jasper. In case, you know, we’re not here when you come back. Please make sure you use all the blankets, okay?”

  “I will, bud. I promise. You make sure you guys bundle up, too. I know PJ doesn’t really like to wear a hat, but he needs to have it covering his ears in this weather. Don’t let him sass Miss Emma about it.”

  Archie’s boyish grin, the one we so rarely saw, appeared. “I don’t know. Ever since you brought home those homemade hats and scarves for Christmas, he’s been pretty good about putting them on without asking.”

  “Well, good. I knew they’d look good on you two. I hoped if he liked them, he’d be more willing to wear them.”

  Archie shook his head. “I don’t think it’s about staying warm at all, Jasper. It’s been a really long time since someone brought us a present just because.” Without another word, he laid back down, and my heart squeezed in my chest.

  I wanted to say it wasn’t “just because,” but that grabbing those at Christmastime were out of necessity, because the boys needed them. They’d never believe that’s all there was to it, though. I’d been over-the-top careful to make sure I didn’t take advantage of anyone I’d met at the soup kitchen. It was hard to do, too, because the regular volunteers and Avi, Jonathon, and Fisher sprinkled kindness wherever they could. I’m pretty sure they all would have adopted me by now, if I had let them, but there was no way I was leaving Miss Emma and the boys.

  Instead of worrying about the day ahead with the handsome Chef Krankin, I thought back over the months with my street family. Even though Miss Emma had been homeless for longer than any of us, she’d been adjusting to the loss of Saul, too, when she’d adopted me into her little brood that day. Miss Emma had become the grandmother I’d never had, and Archie and PJ were like two extra little brothers. It had taken Archie forever to really warm up to me and trust me, but eventually he’d believed that I wouldn’t take advantage of them, nor leave them.

  In the few weeks since Saul’s death, when they’d found me peering into the front window pane, they’d pretty much figured out the lay of the land for which places provided free dinners on what nights. I’d taken Archie with me at time when it was nice out to find day-labor jobs that paid under the table. The more jobs like that we found, the more I knew where to look for them, but it was hard with the amount of people needing work flocking to those locations.

  Luckily, Miss Emma had made plenty of friends with other homeless people on the streets of Takoda, and they’d happily passed on useful information. Archie and PJ had told me that she’d always been generous with the food Saul left for her. Saul had suspected that was the case; he’d said it was the kind of woman she was, and so each night we’d make sure there was plenty of extra to go around. Saul even had his other employees trained to provide for the three for the nights he didn’t close.

  I arrived at the soup kitchen at the same time as Avi and immediately headed to the small volunteer lounge to drop my backpack and go freshen up. There wasn’t a shower in the bathroom, but it was stocked with shampoo, conditioner, body wash, towels, and had a huge sink with plenty of hot water. I’d grabbed my work uniform and razor along the way, then sighed with relief as the first drop of warm water hit my skin. I’d learned quickly after the weather had cooled to make sure to start with water warm or it felt scolding hot. Grabbing the soap, I washed my hands thoroughly, brushed my teeth, then increased the hot water and lowered the cold, washing my hair and shaving. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, I was presentable and ready to take on the day like it was any other, normal, standard day.

  I blew out a harsh breath as I haltingly dropped my dirty clothes from yesterday into the laundry hamper that a service picked up once a week of all the towels and linens we used, as well as my clothes. I’d been distracting myself from thoughts of today the best I could since I’d found out that I’d be working in the kitchen with Chef Krankin.

  Fisher, one of the three founders of the place, had been the main cook since they’d first opened. He had another volunteer, Della, who he allowed to run dinner service a couple of nights a week so
he could have a night off, but mostly because he made grocery deliveries to locals who, for one reason or another, were unable to come in and eat. But during the day, it was usually the two of us in the kitchen preparing the meal. I hadn’t realized until the first time I’d walked in to see Chef Krankin standing over a prep table chopping vegetables how much ownership I’d taken of the kitchen and how much it felt like my space, until he’d invaded it and stole that feeling away from me.

  He hadn’t done anything wrong, really. Well, other than how obnoxious it was that he actually wore a white coat with the name Chef Krankin embroidered in black thread across the front. Who did that? Maybe if this was a fancy place, but I’d never even been into the restaurant where he’d been the head chef because it was so expensive. Even if my mom or Saul were still alive, that wouldn’t be the type of place I’d have ever eaten. My step dad may have taken my mom, maybe even their son, but he definitely wouldn’t have ever laid out that kind of money for me to eat.

  “Hey, Jasper, you okay?” Avi asked as he opened the door and leaned into the lounge.

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, defensively.

  Avi’s easy grin bloomed across his face, but I didn’t miss the flash of worry in his eyes. “It’s not like you to lollygag, is all. Coffee’s ready in the kitchen and Caleb’s in there waiting for you to help him plan the meals for this week.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was worry Avi; him and the guys treated me well, so I suppressed my grimace. I usually hurried to change so I could start the coffee for all of us, and the fact a full pot had run through already meant I really needed to get a move on. Instead, I smiled reassuringly. “Sorry, the hot water felt so good this morning—“ Crap, I cut myself off.