She entered through the main doors of the Denver Rescue Mission and headed straight to the information desk, unwrapping her scarf as she walked. “I have an appointment with Hope Williams.”
The woman at the desk smiled. “I’ll walk you to her office. This place is a maze if you don’t know your way around.”
“So,” Kaylee tried to hide her annoyance, but she wasn’t doing a good job. “I was right, then. There’s no way for a homeless person with no contact with his family to get a copy of his Social Security Card. You realize this makes it nearly impossible for someone to get out of the situation they’re in, right?”
Hope, the Case Manager Kaylee was meeting with, leaned forward across her desk. “Yes, Ms. Burke, I do realize it. This is one of the many battles I face every day.”
“And there’s no way around it?”
“Not that I’ve found in my five years of working here. Your friend is going to have to contact his family. Or you’ll have to do it for him.”
Gravel crunched under her feet as Kaylee made her way to the encampment under the viaduct, in no hurry to face a probable ornery Blayne. She most definitely wasn’t going to tell him what she’d found out about getting a Social Security Card—not today, anyway.
She smiled warily as Blayne straightened from leaning on a cement pillar and walked toward her. The expected scowl did not adorn his face, but his eyebrows scrunched a little as he closed in on her.
“You really don’t have to do this, college girl. I can do this myself.”
“I…I know. But it’ll be faster with me driving you.” Kaylee peeked behind him, of course Mama C was nowhere to be found to help her in this conversation.
“Don’t you have anything better to do? I’d hate to keep you from your classes.”
Did he mean that or was he mocking her? She really couldn’t tell. “I’m between semesters. I don’t start again until mid-January. So, to answer your question, I don’t have anything better to do.”
“Don’t you have a job? Or do your parents pay your way?” Ahh, there was the snark she expected from him.
Her anger flared just a touch. She swallowed it down and replied. “No, my parents don’t support me. I pay for college with scholarships and I work as a TA when school is in session. But, like I said, it’s between semesters, so no school and no work.” She turned and headed back toward her car, only caring a little bit whether he followed her or not.
After a brief pause, footsteps scuffed behind her, hurrying, it seemed, to catch up. He reached her side and, with a gentler voice, said, “So, that means you don’t have any money coming in right now.”
Kaylee nodded, looking straight ahead.
“And yet, you’ve been spending money on food and stuff for us.” He stopped, grabbing her arm at the elbow, stopping her mid-stride.
She turned to face him, still not able to look him in the eyes.
He dipped his head down a little, his gloved hand touching her chin to lift her face to meet his gaze. “And gas, Kaylee. You’re paying for gas to chauffer me around like a privileged asshole or something.”
“It’s fine.”
“No! It isn’t fine,” he interrupted. “What are you going to do when you run out of money weeks before your job starts up again? And, you will run out—if you haven’t already.” Ahh, there was the scowl she’d been expecting since pulling up.
She crossed her arms and cocked a hip out—the same stance she used to take when her parents tried to baby her. “I have it covered. You don’t need to worry about it.”
His expression and his voice softened. “I do have to worry about it. I don’t want you ending up out here on the streets because of your tender heart. Because of me. I can’t stand the thought of it.”
Kaylee sighed and loosened her rebellious stance. He was right to worry. Like many people, she had little savings and, without the safety net of her family, could easily find herself unable to pay rent. “I have savings I can tap into. And, as a last resort, credit cards.” That was a bit of a lie, she’d already tapped into the credit cards.
Blayne shook his head. “I can’t…I can’t justify this. I don’t want to use you like this.”
“You aren’t using me!” She swallowed, forcing her voice to lower. “You aren’t using me, Blayne. I want to do this. For Mama C. For you.” She bit her bottom lip to keep a tremor at bay then attempted a smile. “Besides, you’re keeping me from spending money on stupid things. I tend to go on unnecessary shopping sprees when I get bored between semesters, then spend the next several months paying extra on my credit cards. See, you’re actually saving me money by allowing me to drive you around like a privileged A-hole.”
His mouth quirked, probably because of her pacifying of his language. “You wouldn’t lie to me about this, would you?”
“No. Now can we go? We have a lot to do today.”
“Fine. But when I get a job, I’m paying you back.”
Kaylee rolled her eyes and turned to walk the rest of the way to her car.
She should have waited in her car. But Kaylee had been afraid Blayne would chicken out and leave out a side door or something. Standing room only in the small Catholic shelter, she leaned against the wall, fanning herself with the end of her scarf. She tried not to wince anytime a nauseating odor wafted her way from one of the many unwashed people waiting their turn for the free haircuts. She admired the barbers and hair dressers who donated their time and skills once a week. Blayne had been in there for at least a half hour. They’d gone there first to make sure he got a turn before the barber packed up and left. They’d go to the bigger shelter on Park Avenue to get him some clothes. She’d done some research, and they had the best selection of nicer used clothing for job interviews because of their fresh-start program.
Kaylee focused on her phone as she read through the day’s headlines. Vaguely aware that someone had approached her, she didn’t look up until they cleared their throat. When she did look up, it took her a minute to recognize him, only fully registering that it was Blayne when her gaze made it to his ice-blue eyes. She dropped her phone. And her jaw.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked, eyebrows creased into a worry line.
As he bent to pick up her phone, Kaylee got control of herself—mostly. She snapped her mouth shut and held her breath for a couple of seconds to try to calm her out-of-control heart.
“Kaylee?”
He held her phone out to her. When she didn’t reach for it, he grabbed her hand and lifted it, then set the phone in her palm and curled her fingers around it. Rarely had he touched her without his winter gloves, and the warmth of his skin on her fingers sent her heart into another fit of fluttering.
She wanted to tear her gaze away from his face. Didn’t she? No—it was too beautiful. Yes—she was embarrassing herself.
Blayne coughed nervously and looked down. “Weird, huh?”
Snap out of it! “You…umm…you look amazing.” She raised her hand, meaning to touch the smooth skin where his beard used to be. She stopped herself just in time, pulling her hand to the back of her neck, pretending she had an itch there.
He smiled. He had a dimple on his left cheek. Kaylee’s tenuous control crumbled further. His lips, though chapped, were perfectly formed. In fact, his whole face could have been the model for Da Vinci’s perfect face drawing. “Thank you,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a clean-shaved face. It feels weird.”
“It doesn’t look weird.” She needed to stop talking. What was with the breathy texture of her voice? She cleared her throat. “Yeah, uh, we should go now. We still need to get you some clothes then go over to the unemployment office.” She busied herself with zipping up her coat and putting her gloves on as they pushed through the crowded room to the front door.
They were able to find a pair of black slacks in Blayne’s size, a striped button-up shirt, a nice tie, and a pair of black dress shoes only a half size too big for him. He took advantage of the facility’
s showers before changing into the “new” clothes. Kaylee couldn’t stop the whoosh of breath from escaping or the smile from forming on her lips as he stepped out into the front reception area where she waited. Her smile turned up even more, and she laughed once before slapping her hand to her mouth as her gaze landed on his newly cut hair. He had at least tried to comb it, she’d give him that.
He shrugged a shoulder and grinned somewhat sheepishly as he approached her with an outstretched hand holding a cheap plastic comb. “Help.” He dropped the bag containing his old clothes on the ground next to her.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Kaylee laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you combed your hair, as long as you were going for the Charlie Chaplin look.” Another round of laughter as she took the comb from him.
He rolled his eyes as she stretched up on her tippy-toes to better reach his hair. Lowering her arms, she said, “It might be easier if you stoop down or sit on a chair.”
He sat in a nearby chair. After just a few strokes of the comb, Kaylee shook her head and handed it back to Blayne. “I think this will work better without the comb, and without the part.” She wiggled her fingers through his dark, wet hair. The slight waviness and short cut of it made it the perfect candidate for the “messy” look, even without any hair product to put in it.
She realized she’d been running her fingers through his hair for far longer than necessary, yet she continued to do so for several more seconds. She looked down and her heart fluttered. Blayne’s head was tilted slightly up, his eyes closed, and his face more relaxed than she’d ever seen it. She had the sudden strong impulse to lean down and kiss him. She shook her head and pulled her hands away, standing straight and stepping back.
Blayne’s eyes opened lazily and searched for hers. “You could keep doing that for, like, an hour if you want.” His smile lit up his eyes and his words made her fingers tingle with the desire to run them through his hair again.
She swallowed. Her salivary glands seemed to be working overtime just now. Afraid to speak, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She’d known from his beautiful eyes that he had the potential to be cute—but she was completely taken aback by his movie star looks. She chided herself for thinking such shallow thoughts, but deep inside, she knew she’d felt some sort of attraction to him for a while before this physical transformation.
“Okay, okay.” Blayne stood. “I get it. We need to go to the unemployment office now. Do I look presentable?”
Kaylee inhaled sharply and sucked some over-produced saliva into her lungs. A coughing fit of disastrous proportions ensued. The ugly kind—where she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t speak, and, she knew, her face would be bright red, tears spilling from her eyes, and her throat would bulge out like a bullfrog’s with each harsh, man-like cough.
To make matters worse, Blayne rushed to her side and threw an arm around her hunched shoulders, causing her already taxed heart to go into overdrive as her skin tingled where he touched her. “Are you okay?” he said. “Can I help? Call an ambulance?”
She shook her head and drew in a breath, which just made the tickling in her throat ten times worse.
“How about a drink of water?” Blayne suggested.
Kaylee nodded, thinking maybe she could get herself together a little while he rushed to get her a drink. She leaned over, propping her hands on her knees, and inhaled, slower this time. She wiped her cheeks, hoping her “waterproof” makeup was truly waterproof.
“Here.” Blayne shoved the paper cup of water under her nose.
She straightened up and took another tentative breath before taking the cup from his hand. She took a small sip of the room temperature water. “I think I might have aspiration pneumonia.” Her voice came out rough and skipped like a bad-coverage phone call.
Blayne’s eyes widened in concern.
“I’m joking, sort of. I’ll be fine, everyone chokes on their own saliva sometimes, right?”
“Riiight.” He tilted his head. “So, does your reaction mean that I do not look presentable?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “No. Just the opposite actually. You look,”—multiple words passed through her brain at the speed of light: amazing, fantastic, devastatingly handsome—“great. Really great.”
“You mean now that I don’t have Charlie Chaplin hair?”
“Yes. That was definitely not presentable.” She jerked her head toward the door. “Should we get going?”
He grabbed his bag of old clothes and walked next to her toward the door.
The Colorado Department of Labor and Employment was surprisingly empty compared to the two shelters they’d been to that day. Kaylee sat next to Blayne facing across a desk from a man named Derick.
“Well, Mr. Ellis, at least you know what your Social Security number is. We can at least get you started with that, but if—when—you get hired, your employer will need a copy of it before they can pay you.” Derrick tapped a pen on the edge of his desk.
“I’m working on that for him,” Kaylee said. “Do you have any suggestions on how to get a copy of his card without him having an I.D.?”
They told Derrick about Blayne’s situation. He shook his head and looked intently at Blayne. “I’m afraid the only option in this case is for you to contact your parents and see if they can send you either your Social Security Card or your birth certificate.”
Blayne sighed and dropped his head, whispering, “I can’t do that.”
“I can.” Kaylee didn’t dare look at him. “I’ll contact your parents. They can send it to my address.”
“No.” Blayne continued to bow his head. “I don’t want them to know I’m in Denver. I’m not ready.”
Kaylee thought for a few seconds. “I’ll have them send it to my parents’ house in Pueblo and they can forward it to me. I’ll explain to your parents that you aren’t in Pueblo.” She placed her hand on his, which was lying on top of his bouncing knee. “Can I tell them you’ll be in contact with them when you’re ready?”
He flipped his hand over and curled his fingers tight around hers, still refusing to look up, still bouncing his knee at warp speed. After a pause that seemed to last for hours, he said, “Yeah. Yeah, you can. When I’m back on my feet, I’ll call them.”
Derrick clapped his hands once. “Well, that’s solved.” He handed Blayne a paper he’d just printed out. “Now, go over to one of those computers against the wall and enter your information in. The job number on this paper should be the first one you apply to.”
“What kind of job is it?” Blayne asked.
“A construction job. They don’t care about your past. All they care about is that you show up and work hard and aren’t afraid to work in the elements.”
Blayne snorted. “Elements I am used to.”
Derrick’s lips tightened, and he lowered his voice. “That, I’m sure of.”
Kaylee wrote her phone number down on a sticky note and handed it to Blayne. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”
The drive back to the viaduct was a quiet one. Blayne seemed deep in thought as his leg bounced and he stared out the side window. Kaylee didn’t dare interrupt him. As her tires crunched on the gravel that probably wasn’t supposed to be used as a road, she turned to him. “It will probably be a few days at least before they call.”
“If they call,” he said.
“They will.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. “Maybe you should consider staying at Max’s for a few nights, just so I can find you easier if—when—someone calls.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “No. I don’t feel comfortable doing that. I’ll stick close to…”
Her ringing phone interrupted him. “Hello?”
The voice on the other end answered, “Hello. Uh, I’m looking for,”—papers shuffled—“Blayne Ellis?”
Kaylee smiled. “He’s right here, hold on a second.” She handed the phone to a somewhat bewildered Blayne.
His eyes widened as he listened, then he answered, “Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at the clock in the car’s dash. “Yes, I think I can make it there in a half hour.” Listening. “Yes, ma’am, I know where that is.” Listening. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll see you shortly.”
Missing her hand completely the first time, he handed Kaylee’s phone back to her, nearly dropping it the second time, too.
“Well?” she asked.
He turned to face her, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “Can you take me to an interview?”
“Now?”
He nodded and swallowed. “The lady said they need someone that can start right away and my application was the first one she came to that said that.”
Shifting the car into reverse, Kaylee did a three-point turn and headed back out to a main road. “Where we going?”
“CU Denver. They have a trailer on site for a construction job there—a business school—she wants to interview me there. I’m hoping you know where that is?”
“I do.” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand before concentrating to pull out onto the busy street.
She parked a couple of buildings away at Blayne’s request. Now Kaylee waited impatiently for him to return. He’d been gone for over thirty minutes. She chewed on her nails, a habit she had picked up as a pre-teen. She spit a bit of fingernail toward the steering wheel and cursed under her breath as she surveyed the damage to her thumb-nail.
It was an unusually warm day for the end of December, and she sat with the car off and the window cracked just a little to keep the windows from fogging up. She replayed the phone conversation she’d had with Blayne’s mom after he’d headed for his interview. The call had been full of tears and thanks. She’d thought for sure her son was dead, buried in some unmarked grave somewhere. She thanked Kaylee over and over and promised to send his birth certificate overnight mail. As badly as she wanted to talk to her son, she understood why he wanted to wait, and told Kaylee to tell him she and his dad and sister love him and couldn’t wait to see him again.
Under the Viaduct Page 7