Scrooge

20. Haylee

20

HAYLEE

I twist the ring on my finger over and over, stress starting to take over.

“So where to?” Alex asks as he gets into the car, turning on the engine.

“There is a shelter a few blocks away, so we’ll start there,” I tell him, passing along directions as we start to drive.

“Here,” he says, pushing a few buttons, and my butt warms instantly from the heated seat.

“Ohhh…” I say on a sigh as some tension melts away. “Are you okay?” I ask him. What just happened was a lot for a man who might as well live in solitary confinement and has a dislike for spending any amount of money on others.

“I think so,” he says quickly, glancing at me before looking back to the road. “How do you feel?” he asks, and I take in a breath.

“Terrible for lying to my parents. Scared that I can’t find Deloris…” I start, and his hand leaves the steering wheel and grips my hand on my lap, squeezing it tight.

“Don’t worry. We will find her.” His optimism gives me some comfort.

“Just pull up here,” I say, seeing the shelter ahead, a small line of people snaking outside.

“What are they doing outside?” he asks, turning off the engine.

“Lining up for lunch,” I say with a frown, because it’s obvious.

“Lining up?” His eyebrows shoot to his hairline in complete surprise. He really is out of touch with how others struggle. That’s about to change.

“Let’s go in,” I say, grabbing the door, and Alex jumps out quickly, meeting me at my door and helping me out. Who said chivalry is dead.

“Where do we go?” he asks as he takes my hand in his and walks beside me, looking at everyone and everything with what seems like brand-new vision.

“Let’s go inside and find a staff member.” Pulling him along, past the line of people, I offer a comforting smile to them. Some nod, others ignore me, the usual response.

“Why do they have to line up?” he asks as we weave between a few people. I see the staff office up ahead.

“Because there are too many people and not enough space,” I say, seeing the familiar staff member up ahead.

“Hey, Haylee.” Sandra is a woman in her sixties who has worked here for years, her smile welcoming.

“Hi, Sandra, how is it going today?” I ask as she eyes Alex, who is standing beside me, looking over us both at the large room behind us filled with tables and set up like a cafeteria. It’s no surprise, he is not exactly dressed for the occasion, wearing a black turtleneck over gray slacks. He looks great, better than great, and I smile proudly, looking at him and knowing that he is mine. At least temporarily. But it isn’t the usual shelter attire. Along with his tall stature, perfect hair, smooth skin, and straight white teeth, he is an odd sight to everyone here.

“The usual. A lot more people this year, though,” she tells me.

“What’s the increase?” I ask, interested as I look around, seeing more familiar faces.

“I estimate about twenty-five percent,” she says, and I take in a deep breath.

“Twenty-five percent?” Alex asks, instantly frowning.

“Up from Thanksgiving last year,” Sandra confirms, and Alex’s brow furrows even more.

“We are looking for Deloris. Have you seen her?” I ask, feeling hopeful, even though I can’t see her in the crowd.

“No. I haven’t seen Deloris around here for a few weeks. Last time I saw her, she walked in for lunch with a large bag of dildos… I had to confiscate them because she was trying to sell them to the others,” Sandra says, and I huff a laugh.

“Entrepreneurial…” Alex murmurs, knowing exactly where those items came from.

“Have you checked the shelter in Tribeca? They might have seen her. She likes that one,” she offers, and I bite the inside of my lip. I forgot about that one. It is her favorite.

“We might go there now,” I tell her, grateful that there are others attuned to the whereabouts of our city’s lifelong homeless personalities.

“Great. Well, come back later. I might need the help at dinner, if you’re up for it.”

“We will if we can.” If Deloris is found safe and well, then of course we can come back to assist.

“Who is that?” Alex asks me once Sandra leaves to break up an argument happening across the room over the turkey helpings. I look to where Alex is indicating, seeing an old friend, George, sitting quietly against the window, having his turkey meal.

“Oh, that’s George. He is a lifer like Deloris. Been around here for years,” I say, thinking of the man who is kind, considerate, and always helping others.

“I saw him in your house,” Alex says, and I frown.

“What do you mean?” I turn to him, feeling unsure.

“I mean, on a canvas. In one of your paintings,” he clarifies.

“Oh, yeah. George walked me home one night when a group of guys were following me from the train station. My dad brought him inside and made him some warm soup for dinner,” I tell him, smiling as I remember that event.

“Walked you home?” Alex questions, those eyebrows of his pinching together again with obvious concern.

“Life is not all driver Dans and penthouses, Alex,” I say with a shrug, understanding that he is more sheltered in his penthouse in the sky than I first realized.

“Can you introduce me?” Alex asks, and I pause, tilting my head up to look at him.

“To George?” I ask, needing clarification.

“Yes.” He nods firmly, and I am not sure what is going on, but he seems adamant, so I indulge him and we walk over.

“Hey, George. Happy Thanksgiving.”

George's face lights up when he sees me, mine probably doing the same.

“Ahhhh, Miss Haylee, I was hoping I would see you today,” he says, standing.

“Well, I am just popping in. This is my friend, Alex.” I introduce the two of them, and they couldn’t be further apart. Alex, young, fit, handsome. Clean-shaven, with an expensive, thick watch on his wrist and his shoes at a high shine, reminding me of what my nephew said at lunch. Then there is George, who is wearing a few layers, everything mismatched. He’s unshaven, hair a mess, and smiling with blackened teeth that show the hard times he’s been through.

“It is always a pleasure to meet a friend of Haylee’s,” George says, extending his hand. I hold my breath, sure that Alex is going to ignore it, but I am stunned into silence as I watch Alex take his hand and shake.

“Fiancé. Nice to meet you, George,” Alex says, and my eyebrows hit my hairline. I mean, I know he just proposed, but here, in the shelter, he doesn’t have to pretend. I am not sure anyone here would know who he was, and if they did, they probably wouldn’t care. But he stands proud, as his other hand slips around my middle, pulling me closer to him, and it feels nice. Almost like we are a united front. A team. There are no cameras, no one fancy to impress, just me and my shelter friends.

“Fiancé?” George asks, looking between us.

“Um, yes, Alex and I got engaged today,” I explain, smiling. Feeling a bubble of excitement as butterflies start to flutter around my stomach, I look up at Alex and catch him watching me, his facial features soft, his smile small.

“Well, congratulations!” George says, beaming.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Alex says to George, and we both look at him, confused.

“Thank me?” George asks curiously.

“Haylee was just telling me that you helped her out one night, walking her home. That is an admirable thing to do. So I wanted to say thank you for taking care of her when she needed it,” Alex says, and George still looks confused for a beat before his face morphs into a look that is pure admiration.

“It was what any decent man would do. Looks like you are marrying a good fellow, Miss Haylee,” George says to me as I look at Alex, a new sense of pride now flowing out at me, all directed to the tall handsome man by my side. I grip on to his arm and lean my head against his bicep in a side hug.

“Looks like it…” How am I supposed to rein in these pesky feelings when he continues to surprise me, his hard profile softening more day after day.