Catering Girl Ch. 01

"Mommy, can we get a tree this year?" it was the squeaky voice of a small girl.

"Sorry, pumpkin, we just don't have the money. Maybe next year. Mommy starts her new job soon, so maybe we will have enough for a tree next year." My heart broke at the sound of Catering Girl's voice.

"Ok mommy." The glum voice of her daughter was accepting of the truth, but clearly saddened by it. I looked around for a break in the fence. Running past a couple of rows of cars, I reached the entrance and then ran back up the other side of the fence. But I was not fast enough to catch them. I saw them take a seat on a metro bus just before the door closed and it pulled away. I walked back to my Jeep and climbed in, dejected.

I drove home in silence. The voice of the little girl pierced my heart. For someone so young to understand and accept the realities of a hard life hurt. I came from such privilege, I know, but that didn't mean I didn't care about others. One of those lessons well drilled into me by my family.

Skipper watched me intently as I got out the tree stand and put the tree in it. Her eyes watched as I strung lights around it and then as each of the gold and red balls were hung. She walked over and sat in front of a gold ball, and I think she stared at her reflection for twenty minutes before she curled up in my lap.

"You like your tree, Skipper?"

"Purr." I rubbed her belly.

"You are one lucky kitty. I hope you know that."

"Purr."

I must have fallen asleep on the sofa; I woke up, and it was the middle of the night. Skipper was flopped on top of me, purring away. So much for her being a nocturnal hunting creature.

I climbed into my bed this time and fell back asleep, vaguely recalling dreaming about Catering Girl again.

Sunday afternoon I was out for a run. Running is a great way to clear one's brain and process things. I followed the trail of the old interurban trolley, then as I rounded the corner to the park by my house. What I saw caused me to stop in my tracks.

There was Catering Girl, lifting her daughter off the swing and taking her hand. They had obviously spent some time in the park and now were heading home. I hung back and watched them. It was easy for me to walk about a block behind them. They made their way down a side street to an old, run-down apartment building.

It was a single story brick building with four cheap apartments in it. The grass looked like they had not taken care of it for a while before winter hit, as it was in poor shape like the rest of the place. But I did get a glimpse of which apartment they entered.

I turned around and headed back home, sure that they had not seen me. 'Ok, so now you know where she lives, Whit, but what are you going to do with that info?' I thought to myself. I pondered that as I jogged back to my house. I found Skipper was sprawled out on the floor. Her head was an inch from a gold ball. I could have gotten the can opener out and even her favorite sound of food being opened wouldn't have gotten her to budge, I think.

Then it dawned on me what I should do. A short while later, I was walking out of Target with two large shopping bags that found their way into the back of my Jeep. Minutes later, I was back at the tree lot. Nathan was surprised to see me again at the lot, but when I told him I was playing Secret Santa for a friend in need, he was excited to help. He told me I was doing "my good deed" for the day.

Minutes later, I was taking the tree down off my roof. I had carefully snuck up and set the two bags in front of their door and was now carrying the tree to the door. The tree rested against the frame so it would still remain standing when the door opened. I knocked on the door and dashed away.

Climbing into my Jeep, I heard a squeal of delight from a little voice. I drove off knowing they had found the tree and decorations and I had just made a little girls' Christmas.

Jennifer

"Who could be knocking on our door?" I mumbled to Madison as I looked through the peephole. I didn't see anybody, but I could see something I couldn't identify just off to the side. Skeptical, and a little worried, I double checked that the safety chain was latched and cracked the door open a bit. This was an ok neighborhood, but our street was often less than ok. I didn't see anyone, but I could see a couple of bags in front of the door.

"What is it, Mommy?" I undid the chain and reopened the door fully.

"Oh. My. Goodness."

"Is that a Christmas tree, Mommy? Is that for us?" Madison was positively bouncing off the walls now. I have never seen her so excited. She helped me bring in the bags and then the tree. "Look Mommy, a note."

~~~~~

Dear Friend,

It was nice to talk to you the other night at the museum event on the patio. I was in the tree lot and overheard you on Saturday tell your daughter as you got onto the bus that you couldn't afford a tree. When I saw you in the park today, I followed you home and figured out your address. Forgive me please, I don't mean to stalk you, but I just wanted your little girl to have a tree for Christmas. I hope you both like it. There are a bunch of decorations in the bag as well.

I hope you both have a Merry Christmas.

Whitney

~~~~~

"Oh, my Madison, looks like you are going to have a tree this year. Your first Christmas Tree." We worked together to clear a little corner of our living room and put up the tree. I stood there and hugged my precious. I so much wanted her to have a good life, but for the most part I had to be satisfied knowing she had a roof over her head, clean clothes and food on her plate.

That night after tucking Madison into bed, I sat back at the kitchen table looking at the note. I thought about the woman I had met while working. She seemed so successful. Nice dress, successful job. I did see her dancing with that older man. He looked like he was the head of that company. They looked similar, maybe she worked for her dad? But she had said she was taking a new job?

Oh girl, what does it matter? She probably just feels guilty for having so much. This is probably just in lieu of giving something to the food bank in her annual holiday giving. But she did leave her cell phone number so least I could do is send her a picture of the tree all nice. Moments later a text was on its way, saying thank you.

A few minutes later when a text came back with a smiley face emoji. I'm not sure why, but I hovered my finger over the number and added Whitney to my contacts. I looked around our small apartment. It was rather spartan. A hand-me-down sofa, kitchen table and chairs were all the furniture we had, besides some boxes filled with a few toys. I read my library book for a bit and then went into our bedroom and crawled onto my mattress.

Madison was softly snoring on hers. We had just the one bedroom and no bed frames, just our mattresses on the floor. But it beat being in the shelter. I plugged my phone in and was about to do a sudoku when I got another text.

Whitney: Did she like the tree?

Me: Yes, very much so.

Whitney: Yea! 😊

Me: Thank you, that was totally unexpected and nice of you.

Whitney: It was my pleasure.

I lay in my bed, looking at the phone. How could I ever repay someone for generosity like this? I had taken gifts before. The ladies at the church had banded together to find me some furniture when they found out I was able to get an apartment and move us out of the shelter. But this was somehow different. I couldn't place it. I don't know what possessed me, but I found myself typing again.

Me: Maybe I could take you out for a cup of coffee sometime to say thanks?

Whitney: I'd like that.

We traded texts a bit more and figured out Wednesday evening would work at the small coffee shop next to the church when Madison had her Christmas play practice.

Eighteen dollars and seventy-seven cents. What a lousy day of tips. I sighed as I put them in my envelope marked tips and slid it back in my purse. Yeah, there would be some more from the credit cards, but cash tips were the best. I peeked at my watch. There was not much time to get to the church to pick up Madison from their daycare and then, hopefully, get into the food bank to get some groceries.

I walked the six blocks to the Methodist church and found my precious doing a puzzle with her best friend, Dijon. The two were so cute together. I don't think either of them had a clue how lucky they were to be here at this preschool. Dijon's mother Chantal and I met in the shelter when I moved here, and the job I thought I was starting fell through. It was Chantal that plugged me into this church, and it was through Mrs. Eriksen who runs the preschool that I found my upcoming job at the tugboat company. Her husband is one of the tug captains.

"Would you like a lollypop?" The kind helper at the food bank in the church basement was asking Madison.

"Can I Mommy? Please?" Her little eyes were begging for the sweet. It was the same drill every week.

"Of course, pumpkin. But then you have to promise to eat your vegetable tonight, ok?"

"Ok Mommy, but can we not have broccoli tonight?"

"We'll see what we get tonight and what needs to be eaten first." It was always hit or miss on the healthy stuff. I did my best to feed her fruits and veggies, but prepackaged and simple carbs were always so available and stretched my limited food budget that I worried about her diet at times. But today was a good haul, a cabbage, some carrots, potatoes, peppers, tomatoes, an onion, and sorry girl, a head of broccoli.

We were soon getting off the bus and walking the block home from the bus stop with our grocery sacks full. I was soon chopping away and working on dinner for us while Madison was watching Elmo or something on my phone. We had no TV or internet at our place.

I had an old Chromebook that I had used for my online school, but the only way I had internet on it was by going somewhere like the library where there was free internet. Madison had spent many an evening in the kids' section reading picture books while I finished my Associate's degree. It had taken me four years to get it, but that piece of paper was the second most important thing I had ever done. The first being the little girl who was currently glued to my phone.

I was stirring a pot of noodles, waiting for the proverbial water to boil, when I realized my mind had wandered about and was thinking of Whitney. We had spoken for a grand total of what, ten minutes, maybe? And a few texts. Why was I even thinking about her? As the water boiled, I returned my focus to getting food on the table. Maybe I was just excited to have some proper adult conversation when we got together in a couple of days for coffee.

"Ok Madison, you be a good girl and listen to Mrs. Cartwright, ok? I'll come get you after practice. I'll just be next door at the coffee shop, ok?"

"Ok Mommy, I love you." She gave me a hug and then turned and ran after the other girls at the church.

I put the hood up on my sweatshirt over my black beanie, to keep the rain from going down my back as I left the church and walked next door. As I got close, I saw Whitney walking from the other direction. I waved and then held the door open for her.

"Blech!" She said as she flipped the hood off her coat and freed her long, brown hair.

"Yeah, it's wet, but sure beats snow."

"So true." We walked up to the counter to place our orders. I looked at the board. Why is coffee in these places so darn much? Tea looked like a cheaper option.

"I'll have a large peppermint tea please." I looked over at Whitney and then down to my purse where I was pulling out a battered white envelope.

"Oh, that sounds good, make that two." The barista rang us up, and I carefully counted out my dollar bills and placed them on the counter. Whitney looked away as I put my envelope back in my small purse. But I think it was more to give me a moment of privacy. My cheeks reddened a bit as I got momentarily self-conscious about my spending habits. Soon our names were called. We grabbed our teas and found a small table in the corner.

"So, thank you again for the lovely tree. Madison just adores it. We made a chain of popcorn and put it on last night. She had so much fun pushing the needle and thread through the kernels. First thing she does each morning is to come out and turn the lights on it."

"Awe, that's so sweet. That makes me all warm and fuzzy inside." Whitney took a long sip of her tea. "So, you start a new job next week? Tell me about it."

"Yeah, I'm rather excited about it. It is just a receptionist job, answering the phones, sorting the mail and the like. But everybody I talked to there seems really nice. One lady from the church told me about it. Her husband works there. They are supposed to be very family friendly. So hopefully it will go well. And the hours are stable with no late-night shifts like I have to deal with now. It's such a pain to find someone to look after Madison in the evening.

I've traded with a few other moms from the preschool. But a lot of us are scratching and clawing just to survive." Shaking my head, the thoughts of the sacrifices made over the last four years flooded my brain. Realizing I was staring at my tea, I took a sip and looked back at Whitney. Her smile was pleasant and caring. I watched as she reached out and put her hand on mine.

"Sounds like you have been through a lot. I can't imagine what it must be like being a young single mom. I don't know how you do it, frankly."

"You do what you have to do sometimes. It is rather humbling; I have to admit. Honestly, I have swallowed so much pride over four years going in and asking for help from the state, from the church and other groups, I'm not sure how much more I have left to swallow. There have been more than a few nights where I was not sure how I was going to put food in front of Madison."

My lips quivered and I looked down. There was no way I could make eye contact right now with my new friend. The tears were flowing and I couldn't stop them. "Some nights I could barely put a peanut butter sandwich in front of her, not even any jelly on it, and hoped she didn't hear my stomach as I had nothing. Sometimes there was just too much month left at the end of the money."

I used the cuff of my sleeve to wipe my eyes. Why was I opening up to a stranger about my struggles? I mean, what did she care? I had never really spoken to anybody, not even to some of the ladies at the church about this. Although I am sure they wouldn't have been surprised. I looked up and saw her eyes welling up as well. The look on her face was tender. Not pity, but care, or maybe respect.

"Jennifer, you are the bravest woman I have ever met. Seriously, do you get any help from her father?"

"Not much. He's in the Coast Guard and enlisted personnel don't make big bucks. He sends a birthday and Christmas card every year with a small gift. Every few weeks he calls or Skypes with her as well. It's difficult since our schedules don't match that well, but he tries to be a responsible long-distance father. But the amount of child support is small, just because he doesn't make much. It helps, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't go far." I took another sip of my tea.

"So, do you have any family around here?"

"No, just the two of us. My mom is back in Idaho, in our small town. It was just her and me growing up. Madi and I lived with her for about a year, but I needed to move out. She had a hard time adapting to a new little one around. Dallas's parents offered to let us stay with them, but their cramped mobile home was no better than my mom's. About a year ago, a friend convinced me to move here, and there was supposedly a job waiting for me at a call center. But the day I showed up, the feds were all over the place.

It turned out they were running some scam and people were getting busted. I yelled and screamed at her for all the good that it did, but she was just as out of luck as I was. My money ran out fast, not that I had much to begin with, and I landed in a shelter for moms with small kids. I spent five months there until I got a semi-stable job as a waitress.

One of the volunteers at the shelter goes to the church next door, and she got me plugged in there. They helped me find my apartment and got me somewhat established. The church gave Madison a scholarship to their preschool, so that has been a huge blessing. She gets breakfast and lunch there each day, and they run a food bank as well."

"That sounds amazing. So much better than what I remember of church as a little girl. All I remember was making little crafts from popsicle sticks and then later hearing all the evils about having sex before marriage."

"Yeah, like that obviously works. I heard the same thing." We both snorted at that.

"So just the two of you. No boyfriend? Not trying to be nosy here, just curious."

There was that smile again on her face. Why did I feel so comfortable telling her stuff? I needed to ask her questions and getting her to open up as well. "Nope, no boyfriend. Not had one since I got pregnant, and I had just started dating him at the time. I'd just turned eighteen right before Senior Prom. We had sex once, on prom night. Back seat of his dad's Chevy. How classic is that?"

"Yeah, right?"

"That's all it took, of course. Shortly after graduation, he left for boot camp. I didn't even know I was pregnant then. I told him when he came home on leave. Of course, he promised to help, but that has not been much. Since then, I've been working so hard or studying to get my degree that there has been no time for boys. Frankly, we're just fine without them."

I noticed Whitney raised her eyebrow at this. "Good for you for continuing your education. Did you finish?"

"Yeah, took my last final a week ago. The last two years was done all online. But I did it. I now have my associates degree in business. I'm thinking of trying to get into the U next fall when Madison starts kindergarten. I know I have to continue my education. The only way I will ever be able to give my baby some sort of life. I don't want to spend my life like my mom. Running a bar ain't for me. No place to raise a kid. Trust me, I lived through that."

We both had a good laugh.

"So, Whitney, tell me a bit about you. Is there a Mr. Whitney?"

"Nope, and there will never be one. I was sixteen when I had my last boyfriend." It took me a moment to process what her inference was.

"Oh, so um you..."

"Yeah, let's just say I prefer the fairer sex. Sorry, does that freak you out?"

"No, just not what I expected." Oh shit, is this a date? Is this her polite way of hitting on me? I've been so out of touch with things I didn't even think about that. Not that I would mind. I have often wondered what dating another woman would be like. I was pondering how to respond when my phone buzzed. It was next door, telling me the rehearsal was done. A moment later, a second message came from Mrs. Cartwright, saying she could bring Madison over in a few.

Whitney and I talked for a bit more about the business program at the university where she had gone when Madison bounced into the coffee shop. She quickly jumped into my lap.

"Guess what Mommy, I am going to be an angel in the play. I get to have wings and everything." Whitney smiled at her.

"That's great, honey. Are you going to sing?"

"Yep, I get to sing Gloria with the other Angels." She sang the classic hymn, but with her interpretation, "Gloooooooooooooooria, in Chelsea's stable. Gloooooooooooooooria...."

"I don't think it's 'in Chelsea's stable' but 'In Excelsis Deo' honey. It's ok though, everyone would like to hear you sing."