She slumped against the cracked vinyl of the booth’s bench. “Listen, Melanie. I’m expecting a call from the agency any minute.” A lie. The Bloomsberry nanny agency wasn’t open on Saturdays, but she’d reached her limit when it came to dealing with her mother. “I’ll call you next week.”
“Early next week,” she replied, not knowing Summer had spent the previous night sleeping in her car, or even caring if she had to do it again. She never asked about her well-being. Never showed any interest or affection.
A teenager when she’d given birth, Melanie hadn’t wanted a child, and she certainly hadn’t been prepared for the responsibility of raising a kid on her own. Even so, year after year, Summer held onto the tiniest sliver of hope that with age would come maturity.
And with maturity—a real interest in the daughter she shared her DNA with.
“I’ll call when I’ve got an update, but right now, I gotta go. Talk to you later. Bye.” She hung up before her mother could respond, her shoulders dropping with relief. She had enough to worry about without the added stress of dealing with Melanie.
And if she had to listen to her mother threaten to come live with her one more time…
Summer shuddered.No. Heck no. Despite her struggles, she liked living in Montana, and four hundred dollars a month seemed like a fair trade to keep the woman who birthed her eight hundred miles away.
Coffee cup in hand, she took a cautious sip while she glanced at the amount owing on her bill. Less than six dollars for a hearty bowl of soup, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a bottomless cup of coffee.
A good deal, and the reason she’d chosen to have her one hot meal of the day at Ruby’s. Housed in a dilapidated building, the restaurant’s interior had never been updated, the owner striving instead to keep his prices as low as possible. Unfortunately, with the rising cost of inflation, he’d need to make some changes soon or close his doors.
A real loss for Kalispell’s low-income and homeless populations if it happened.
Her gaze back out the window, she watched the panhandler flash a raggedy cardboard sign at a passing car. The vehicle passed him by, not even slowing for the yellow light.
With a sigh, she polished off the last of her coffee and fished through the wallet in her purse. She pulled a ten, and wishing she could leave a bigger tip for the hard-working waitress, she set it on top of the small slip of paper.
Then knowing she’d be blowing the daily budget she set for herself, she pulled another five, and shoved it into the front pocket of her jeans before she gathered her things and slid from the booth.
Over by the door, she stopped in front of the cash register to pull on her coat. She needed to get to the Pine Glen to put her name on the list for a cheap room for the night. With the temperature dipping, they’d be filling up fast, but she wanted to make a quick detour first.
“Coffee to go?” her waitress asked, holding out a covered paper cup. “It’s cold out there.”
“Oh, that’d be awesome,” she replied, pulling the zipper to her chin. “Thanks so much.” She took the free drink and wished the woman a great day before pushing her way out onto the sidewalk.
The frosty air whipping around her head froze her eyeballs in their sockets, and she blinked the tears from her eyes as she made her way past her car to the corner of the street. As she approached the man she’d been watching earlier, she pulled the five-dollar bill from her pocket and wrapped it around the outside of the brown cup.
“Hi,” she said, reading his faded sign as she came near.Homeless veteran. Will work for food.“Coffee?” She held the cup toward him, offering the warm beverage along with the small bill.
“Damn girl, you’re a lifesaver.” He jammed his sign under his arm, and for the first time, Summer noticed his right hand was nothing more than an old leather glove pinned to the cuff of his worn jacket. He reached for the cup, careful to get a good grip on the cash at the same time. “I really appreciate this.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she replied and meant it. Sure, Summer knew the struggle of being homeless. Knew the hunger pangs of an empty stomach and the bone-piercing cold of sleeping on the street in the dead of winter.
She wouldn’t wish those hardships on anyone.
But wounded veterans?
They made her heart ache the hardest. The sacrifices they made for their country—only to end up begging for work, food, shelter—unconscionable. Their government spent hundreds of billions on defending their borders, but very little on protecting those within, including the men and women who’d answered their call and joined the military.
“My name’s Summer,” she said, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets as he sipped the hot drink and moaned.
“Well, we sure could use a bit of summer around here. I’m freezing my parts off,” he joked, holding up his arm, the empty sleeve drooping from his elbow down. “Name’s Daryl. I’d offer to shake, but…” He shrugged, and she wished she could do more to help.
“What branch of the military were you in?”
“Marines. Private Third Class. Second Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion until I lost my arm. First patrol on my first deployment, and the Humvee I’m riding in hits an IED ten miles from base. Can you believe it?”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah, bad luck. But you have to look on the bright side, right? I’m still alive while two of my buddies came home in pine boxes.”
“Oh.” Summer shook her head in sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss. Must have been hard on you, mourning for your friends while dealing with your own medical situation.”
