Flipping on the radio as she drove to work, she listened as the DJs ran off a list of famous people whose birthday was that day. She was acutely aware of what day it was, silently commemorating it each year. She remembered the winter wedding eight years ago. She had finished her master’s degree in social work, was newly employed, and ready to marry her college boyfriend. Young, in love, excited for the next logical step in their relationship. The only good thing that came out of that relationship was Colleen, and she was a priceless treasure.
Honk!
Jumping, she saw that the red light had turned green. Jesus, I’m as distracted as Colleen! I need to get my mind off the past. Glad she only had a few more blocks to go, she quickly drove to the large, brick building housing the Ever Hope Homeless Shelter.
One of the reasons she hated to be late was due to insufficient parking in the area. Driving around, she finally found a space just big enough for her to park. Mentally fist-pumping for her excellent parallel parking procedure, she grabbed her slim briefcase. Clicking the locks, she glanced down and saw that she was still a foot away from the curb. She grimaced. At least her car was straight and not sticking out into the road.
Entering through the front door, she waved toward the two employees sitting at the reception desk. “Good morning,” she called out. Enrico and Suzette Juarez had worked at the shelter for the past two years, and she considered them invaluable. Suzette won her over when they interviewed for the positions. “Our kids are grown, and sitting around watching TV all day will make me lose my mind or want to hit my husband. So, I told him we were going to work where we could make a difference!”
Enrico was a retired Marine, having served in Afghanistan. He was often the first contact some of their homeless veterans had at the center, and she had no doubt they stayed to get help because of him. Suzette’s smile put many of the homeless mothers with children in tow at ease.
Not having time to chat, she hurried past the entrance to the free clinic and down the hall to her office. Because she dropped off Colleen every morning at school, she never made it to the shelter in time to oversee breakfast being served but was resolute in starting her day in the dining hall nonetheless. Tossing her briefcase behind her desk, she turned, almost slamming into Michael, one of the other social workers.
“Sorry!” she gushed.
“No worries. You’re flustered this morning. Have a rough time getting out of the house?”
He turned and walked down the hall with her as she nodded. “No matter how much I try to get Colleen organized at night, there’s always something the next morning that needs to be done, needs to be signed, or needs to be found.”
He chuckled. “Just wait till she gets older. My wife is always complaining that our kids wait until the last minute to tell her that they need Styrofoam balls and pipe cleaners to build a solar system.”
She smiled and nodded but inwardly winced at the thought of Colleen getting older and only having a single mother to try to keep everything straight. But, on the heels of that thought, she knew she would not trade a moment with her daughter and that her ex-husband had given up everything when he walked away. Glancing to the side, she also knew that laid-back Michael had a wife at home that was a ball of energy, probably doing most of the work.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wilson,” came the greeting from several people as she entered the dining hall. Most of the residents had finished breakfast already, many having left to go to work or class. She hated missing the children before the school bus came to pick them up but was glad to greet them at the end of the day when they were dropped off.
Stepping into the kitchen, she eyed the cook and volunteers. “Everything go okay this morning?”
Mrs. Rossini had been cooking breakfast at the homeless shelter for the past four years. With a round body and a wide smile, she was considered the shelter’s resident grandmother. But Tara knew that in the kitchen, Mrs. Rossini was a taskmaster. Shelter residents were required to assist at meals on a rotating basis and their cook took her duties seriously. Smiling at Tara, she nodded her head emphatically. “Yes, yes, all is well. It’s cold outside today, so I made sure the little ones had a hot breakfast.”
Patting the older woman on the shoulder, Tara thanked her before heading back to her office. Once there, her first order of business was to look over the list of any new residents who came in the night before. The shelter ran at capacity, the winter months making the demand worse, and they were unable to take everyone who sought shelter.
Bethany walked in and she smiled at the bright-eyed, eager young social worker fresh out of graduate school. She hoped Bethany would be able to keep her enthusiasm, knowing she would need it over the coming years in this profession.
“Just before I left yesterday, another group of WinterPole coats came in. I was able to distribute some of the smaller ones to the kids getting on the bus this morning, and the adult sizes I put in the supply closet.”
Tara nodded, her smile firmly on her face as she considered the best way to distribute the bounty. “Let’s see who we have to turn away that doesn’t have winter clothing.”
Watching Bethany leave her office, she settled her mind to the multitude of tasks in front of her.
4
Carter parked outside Hope City’s
