“Why won’t you look at me?” he demanded.
“I can’t,” I whispered as tears clouded my eyes. If I looked at him, he might be able to persuade me to give up the name, and I couldn’t do that. The risk was too high.
“Was it for Richard or Chuck?”
I nearly laughed out loud. He was drawing names out of a hat. “No. You know better than to suggest either of them.”
“Your brother?”
“That’s equally ludicrous. Caden is in jail. It’s highly unlikely he could be responsible.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Then who?” Drew walked to the other side of the room, his back to me. We stood on opposite sides of the apartment. After what seemed like an eternity, he said, “The elders met tonight.”
That explained the cars in the parking lot.
“It was decided that the church would cancel their month-to-month lease with you effective at the end of this month.”
“You’re asking me to move?” I was stunned. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been, as I realized there would be some form of consequence.
“You’ll have to make other living arrangements. The apartment needs to be vacated by the first of the month.”
“That’s only ten days.”
“I know.”
“I don’t have anyplace else to go.”
He closed his eyes and then started toward the door. “I’m sorry, Shay.”
My heart was beating with the speed of a horse in the Kentucky Derby. I stopped him. “Drew, please,” I said, struggling to hide my panic. “I have one question.”
His hand was on the door, but he paused and didn’t open it as he waited.
“How did you vote?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away. Nor did he turn around to face me. “I abstained.”
Deep down I’d known.
—
The next day, I started my early-morning shift at The Corner Café, amazed that I could handle the counter, take orders, and deliver meals without any incident. My mind and my heart were at odds with each other.
I’d taken a gamble, and it seemed I’d lost and I’d lost big.
Now I had two unpleasant tasks facing me. First and foremost, I needed to find other living accommodations, and the sooner the better. The Seattle housing crisis was well known. Finding an apartment, especially a low-rent one, would be next to impossible. The waiting lists for apartments were said to be months, if not years. The best I could hope for was to find a room to rent.
Next on my list and equally important had to do with Hope Center. I needed to talk to Lilly Palmer, and I hoped she would be able to convince Kevin Forester to not take the bookkeeping position away. With everything that had happened, it wouldn’t surprise me if I learned I was no longer being considered for the job. If I lost that opportunity, I didn’t know what I’d do.
I’d made arrangements for Sadie to cover the second half of my shift, so I could stop at the Center, as well as search for housing. As I was getting ready to leave, she sought me out. “You okay, girl? You don’t seem yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I said, stretching the truth. “Got stuff on my mind.”
She didn’t look convinced. “What’s this I hear about you needing to move before the end of the month? What’s up with that? I thought you had an apartment at the church.”
“I don’t any longer.”
“What did you do, throw a drunken party on church property?”
Despite the concerns I’d been carrying with me since Drew’s visit, I couldn’t hold back a smile. “Not exactly.”
“Well, you must have done something to raise a few eyebrows, seeing how you need to be out that soon.”
“You know anyone looking for a lodger or a roommate?” I asked, rather than address her comment.
Sadie shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t.”
My shoulders sank. I had only nine days, and time was ticking away at an alarming rate.
“Don’t you fret, though,” Sadie interjected. “You can room with me and the cats until you find a place.”
While I appreciated the offer, I’d heard more than one comment about Sadie and her felines. Alice teased that Sadie had her own cat house. “Thank you,” I said, and impulsively hugged her. “But I’m allergic to cats.”
“Not good, and with four of them you’d likely need an oxygen mask before the end of the first night.”
“Probably,” I agreed.
“You could sleep on my couch if you have to,” Alice chimed in. “I’d offer you a bed, but with three kids there isn’t a spare mattress in sight.”
I couldn’t stop myself from tossing my arms around these two wonderful women in a group hug. They’d had my back from the very first day I’d started working at the café, and I loved and appreciated them.
“Hey, hey,” Frankie called out from the kitchen. He waved a spatula at the three of us. “What’s going on out there? This isn’t a love-in, you know. I’m running a café here, so if you three are into something kinky, I’d prefer you didn’t do it in front of the customers.”
No one bothered to mention that the café was nearly empty in that lull between breakfast and lunch. Those sitting in the booths were dialed into Wi-Fi on their laptops or glued to their phones.
I thanked Frank for letting me take a half day, clocked out, and reached for my coat and backpack, ready to walk over to Hope Center, which was less than a mile away. I could have taken a bus, but I wanted the exercise to clear my head.
This conversation wasn’t one I looked forward to having, especially if it was going to be bad news. All I could do was pray that Lilly and Kevin would have more faith in me than Drew and the church elders.
Then again, perhaps I was asking too much.
As I left the café, I noticed a small figure huddled against the side of the building. I looked again and realized it was Sarah.
“Sarah?”
As soon as she heard her name, the nine-year-old raced toward me, her arms opened wide.
Squatting down to catch her, I reached for her as she threw herself into my embrace, her thin arms locking around my neck.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” I asked gently, cupping the back of her head as I held on to her.
Instead of answering, she buried her face in my neck, sobbing her little heart out.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I pleaded.
“Don’t you love us anymore?” Sarah asked, crying so hard it was almost impossible to make out the words.
“Of course I love you. I’ll always, always love you.”
“But Daddy said…”
“What did he say?” I asked gently when she didn’t finish her thought.
“He said you were moving and that we might not be able to see you anymore.”
My hold around her tightened and I felt my own throat clog with tears. “That doesn’t mean I will stop loving you, though. That would never, ever happen, no matter where I live.”
“I don’t want you to leave us,” she cried, her arms tightening around my neck as if snuggling against me would prevent me from going away.
I didn’t want to go, either, but I couldn’t tell Sarah.
“Can I go with you?” she asked, raising her head enough to look at me, her beautiful face full of hope.
I couldn’t speak, and answered her with a shake of my head.
Sarah brushed the tears that leaked from my eyes. Her fingers rubbed at my cheek. “Why would you move?” she asked.
“Sometimes that’s what adults need to do,” I said in a way I hoped sounded normal and reassuring.
“Don’t go, Shay. Please don’t go.”
Overwhelmed with sadness, I pressed the side of my face against hers.
“Please, Shay. Don’t you know how much we love you?”
“I know, sweetheart. Sometimes things happen that make it necessary for people to leave.”
“Don’t, please don’t leave me.”
Sarah was breaking my heart. I straightened. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you supposed to be in school, Sarah?” I asked.