Who Is My Shelter? (32 page)

chapter 30

Will wandered away while my mouth was still hanging open.
No, no. Too much like some soap opera plot
. Lucinda was doubtless a popular name back then. Still . . . Will's grandmother
and
Lucy both said their mothers made
banana cake
for their birthdays. Another coincidence?

Should I say something to Will? It might be worth checking out, asking a few more questions. But Josh Baxter had already snagged him and the two university students were talking about getting together for coffee on Chicago's Circle Campus. Maybe just as well. I needed to be careful. Didn't want to raise Will's hopes if it turned out to be another dead end.

But seeing Josh and Will together gave me an idea. That evening, while all the residents of the House of Hope gathered in Josh and Edesa's apartment for our “Welcome Potluck,” I pulled Josh aside and said I had a favor to ask him. “Overheard you asking Will Nissan about getting together for coffee on campus. Anytime soon?”

“Think so. We both have classes on Tuesday. What's up?” Josh looked hungrily at his paper plate piled high with my lasagna, Edesa's homemade burritos, seven-layer salad from apartment 1A, and some fried chicken from Celia Jones, even though we'd told the newbies they didn't need to bring anything this time since they'd just moved in.

I didn't tell him my suspicions, just asked him to get some more details about Will's long-lost great-aunt. “You know, her birth date, family name, stuff like that. Also his grandmother's first name. He always just calls her Nana.”

Josh looked at me funny. “I dunno. That might be kind of weird, asking him all that personal stuff.”

I smiled. “You can do it. You're one of the most diplomatic people I know, Josh. You could get me to stand on my head and think it was my idea.”

He looked interested. “You can stand on your head, Miss Gabby?”

“Oh, shoo! You'll never know!” Laughing, I moved away to fill my own plate from the Baxters' kitchen counter and join the warm bodies in the front room, where Josh had wisely rolled up their bright Aztec-colored rug to accommodate the little ones who were apt to spill. It was good to see Bam-Bam sitting on Tanya's lap and Dessa's meal being supervised by Sabrina, allowing Shawanda and Celia to sit together on the couch, enjoying their full plates in relative peace. But soon the little ones—Gracie, Bam-Bam, and Dessa—were being led on a merry chase up and down the long hallway of the apartment by Celia's granddaughter, Keisha, while P.J., Paul, and Sammy huddled off by themselves on the window seats of the sunroom talking boy stuff.

I watched the noisy activity, smiling to myself. This was the House of Hope—a place to live and belong for single moms who otherwise would be homeless. But there were still two apartments to go before we had a full house—which meant three or four more moms plus kids. What would our potlucks be like
then
?

I wondered if Philip would come to SouledOut the next morning with Denny and Jodi, but I didn't see him when we walked into the large, open storefront-turned-church-sanctuary in the Howard Street Shopping Center. “He's looking at a couple apartments this morning,” Jodi said, pulling me aside. “But be praying, Gabby. Denny and Harry plan to meet with Philip this afternoon for some man-talk. Didn't really give Philip a choice about it. I mean, Denny put it real nice, you know, a chance to brainstorm stuff about how to get out from under this gambling debt, what to do about the lawsuits, and stuff. But”—a small smile played at the corners of her mouth—“if I know Denny and Harry, they've got more up their sleeves, and don't plan on playing softball.”

I stared at Jodi. “What do you mean?”

She brushed her longish brown bangs aside. “Ever since Denny had a chance to hang out with Philip and the boys last weekend while you were gone, he's been praying for a time to talk with Philip—man-to-man—about all the stuff that happened between you two. Feels like that's gotten swept under the rug ever since Philip got beat up and landed in the hospital. You know, the ‘urgent' eclipsing the ‘important.' And then this week, out of the blue, Harry calls up Denny to go with him to pick up Philip from the casino, and Philip's gotta move and needs a place to stay, and suddenly here he is, in our house! Denny sees it as an answer to his prayer.”

I nodded slowly. “Which I couldn't imagine happening even a week ago.” I was trying to process what Jodi was saying. I'd been assuming that Philip running down to the casino the first time he had money in his pocket was the ultimate bad news. But was it possible God was actually
using
it to move Philip into a place where it'd be a natural thing for Denny and Harry—two men I respected greatly—to talk to Philip? God-talk? Man-to-man talk?

The possibility so blew me away I hardly paid attention to the service that morning, letting the worship swirl around me, wrapping me in a protective cocoon that shut out everything else around me. Even the sermon, delivered by Pastor Clark in his gentle way, felt like silk threads tying up the loose ends around my cocoon. I was still in a kind of stupor on the way home from church, half praying in fits and starts, my thoughts bouncing around like popcorn, when P.J. broke into my mental jumble.

“Mom? . . . Mom! Did you hear me? You wanted to go bike riding on your birthday weekend and it rained. But it's pretty nice today. You wanna go on a bike ride somewhere?”

It took a few moments to reenter reality. Had Lee and I set a time for our date? Not really, so there should be plenty of time to go for a bike ride this afternoon and still go out with Lee this evening. I'd told Philip I wanted to talk—but it didn't sound like he was going to be available this afternoon. “Sure, kiddo. Sounds like fun. Wanna eat lunch first or pack a picnic and eat somewhere?”

I hadn't been on my “borrowed” bike since Lee had given it to me on my birthday, so it took awhile to get used to the gears and brakes again, but by the time we were sailing down the bike path along Lake Michigan, I was enjoying the brisk wind and sun on my face and hearing the laughter and shouts of P.J. and Paul behind me. The “high” for that day was only in the fifties, but I'd dressed in warm layers and the brilliant blue sky and sunshine tempered the chill in the air.

We rode the few miles to the Lincoln Park Zoo, locked up our bikes, and ate our lunch watching the seals poke their noses up out of the surface of their pool, snuffle at their visitors, and disappear once more. We spent another hour at the zoo, mostly watching the big apes grooming each other and the smaller monkeys swinging from rope to rope in their habitat. A bag of popcorn and a couple of Slushies from one of the zoo vendors tanked us up for the ride home—this time against the wind—and we arrived back at the six-flat with tired legs, red cheeks, and cold noses. But I could tell the boys had had a good time, and hopefully they'd cut me some slack when I told them I was going out that evening while they stayed home to do their homework.

The red light was flashing on the answering machine.
Philip?
Was he ready to talk? If so, maybe I needed to cancel my date with Lee. Didn't really want to, but I was the one who'd said we needed to talk ASAP.

I waited until the boys were out of earshot before hitting Play. But it wasn't Philip.
“Hi, Gabby, it's Lee. We're still getting together this evening, right? Is seven okay? Could be a bit nippy once the sun goes down, so dress warmly. Thought we'd go to that Thai restaurant I told you about. Should be able to talk there.”

I winced. That's right. I'd told
Lee
we needed to talk too.

Argh
. I didn't need “complicated.” Part of me just wanted to take a good long soak in a hot bubble bath, get into my winter jammies, and chill out in front of a mushy Hallmark special with some popcorn and hot chocolate.

But another part of me felt a tingle of excitement at spending the evening with Lee. A Thai restaurant? Sounded nice. Lee always picked a place with good food. With one eye on the clock, I took a hot shower, washed and blow-dried my mane of curls, and dressed carefully in a clean pair of boot-cut jeans, a forest-green mock-turtleneck sweater and matching corduroy jacket, and a pair of comfy leather clogs. I smiled in the mirror as I hooked simple gold loops into my earlobes. Casual but not too casual. Lee would like the red-gold highlights that shone in my hair tonight—if the restaurant wasn't too dark, that is.

Strange that I hadn't heard from Philip. I'd told him I wasn't available this evening, and he'd said,
“Monday at the latest,”
so guess we were still good. I couldn't help being curious whether Denny and Harry had managed to have their man-to-man talk. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing Philip would tell me about, even if they had.

“Lord, help him to come up with a plan to get his life straightened out,” I breathed as the door buzzer rattled the intercom. Shrugging into my burgundy raincoat with the cozy zip-in liner and hood, I called out, “P.J.? Paul? I'm leaving now! Josh and Edesa know you're here alone, so if you need anything, just call upstairs, okay?”

The Spoon Thai Restaurant on Western Avenue wasn't large, but it had a warm décor with lots of wood paneling, mostly pine, and bamboo trim. There were no booths, but a long wooden bench ran along each wall, facing a row of small tables on each side, each of which seated two with a chair on the side opposite the wooden bench. Another row of tables ran down the middle of the room, a round-backed wooden chair on each side. For larger parties, tables could be pushed together.

The lighting was neither bright nor dim, just pleasant. The restaurant was populated but not overly crowded, and Lee chose a table beside the front window. He looked good—smooth shaven, a hint of a woodsy aftershave, and wearing a cream-colored cable-knit cotton sweater over a pair of jeans with a light-blue shirt collar sticking out of the neck. His round wire rims and shock of brown hair falling over half his forehead gave him the same boyish look that had captivated me the day I'd first met him in the Legal Aid office.

“I'm not real hungry,” I said, scanning the menu. “Maybe just a couple of appetizers—got any recommendations?”

“I might do that, too, but tell you what. Why don't we each get two appetizers and share them, plus we'll get an order of fried rice. That should be plenty. Sound good?”

I smiled to myself. That's what I liked about Lee. We had the same tastes and enjoyed keeping things simple. I ordered the vegetable egg rolls and something called Kanom Buang Yuan, which the menu described as a “Thin omelet stuffed with shredded coconut, ground peanuts, shrimp, bean sprouts, tofu, and served with a cucumber salad.”

“Ah ha. Living dangerously,” he teased, then ordered Hoi Tod—“Stir-fried mussels served with hot sauce”—and Satay Chicken, thin slices of chicken marinated in a light curry sauce and served with a peanut sauce and the cucumber salad. At least the Satay was one of my favorites.

After the young Asian waiter took our order, Lee reached across the table and took my hand. “So what's been happening at the House of Hope since your birthday two weeks ago?”

Was it only two weeks ago?
I let my hand rest in his. “Well, I took a group of women from Manna House to Wisconsin to see the fall colors, and Lucy sprained her ankle real bad, so we're keeping Dandy with us for a while. And two more moms and their kids—well, one's a grandmother and granddaughter—moved into the second-floor apartment at the House of Hope this weekend, so that leaves only two more of the original tenants to move out before we'll have a full house.”

I deliberately avoided any mention of Philip and the lawsuits against him, or the expensive dining room table he'd sent for my birthday, or even the fact that he was moving out of the penthouse. “Oh, and the boys and I went for a bike ride this afternoon, down to the Lincoln Park Zoo.” I smiled at him. “Thanks again for the loan of your sister's bike.”

Lee lifted an eyebrow and returned a tolerant smile. “It's yours if you want it, Gabby. You know that.”

I slid my hand out of his and sighed. “I know that, Lee. It's just—”

“It's just that you can't take such a big gift from me right now, until we figure out what our relationship is, right?” He eyed me intensely.

I flushed. “Something like that.” I took a sip of my water.

“Well, I agree. You're right, we haven't really talked since that night at the hospital when I . . . when I said some things in the heat of the moment that I didn't mean. I was just so angry that—” He stopped himself, his jaw muscles working, then laughed self-consciously. “Okay, Boyer, start over. What I'm trying to say, Gabby, is—”

The waiter appeared, arms laden with dishes. “Shrimp fried rice . . . Kanom Buang Yuan . . .” He named off each dish in his Thai-accented English as he set them down on the table between us, along with two warmed plates, a tea pot, tea cups with no handles, and extra napkins. “You like anything else? More ice water?”