It doesn’t take me long to get to the job site where Davey and I have been working. It’s a small development with six cape style houses, all needing the works. The builder is a nice guy who has been around the block a few times and isn’t afraid to invest in durability, making the job a bit easier. The quality of shingles can define the time it takes to get the job done. Most people don’t realize if they invest a little more upfront, the hourly costs go down.
By noon, we have one side of shingles up on the cape we’re working on today. “Carol-Anne made me a couple of sandwiches. Want one?” Davey asks, heading over to his truck.
“No, thanks, man. I’m meeting August for lunch today.”
He turns in his step and continues walking backward while talking. “Things are getting pretty serious with you two, huh? What’s it been now, a month?”
“Something like that,” I tell him. “Things are going well.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve to have a good woman in your life. Plus, you’ve been in a good mood, and it makes my life easier too.”
Thankfully, I’ve been busy all day because if I weren’t, I’d be wondering what August was in such a mad rush for this morning. Something was obviously going on at work, but she usually tells me when trouble is brewing there or if things are getting heavy for a kid.
I clean up some of the debris before heading downtown for lunch. I check my phone to make sure nothing came up, causing August to have to cancel lunch, but there’s nothing. Hopefully, no news is good news, or nothing important, at least.
Having nothing but fifteen minutes to think on the way to lunch, I’ve come up with about thirty possibilities for her behavior this morning, but nothing makes a whole lot of sense.
I’m glad to see she’s already in the sub shop when I arrive. She’s even ordered my favorite sandwich and has it waiting next to a large Pepsi. “Have I told you how amazing you are lately?” I ask, placing a kiss on her cheek before sliding into the booth across from her.
She’s glowing, and I need to know why. “How was your morning?”
“It was just fine. What is going on with you, darlin’?”
“Can you be somewhere at five tonight? It’s the latest they’re open.”
I know I look confused when I stall to answer, but after a long second, I tell her, “Sure, I can be somewhere. Where am I supposed to be?”
“I need you to sign some papers at the Department of Social Service.”
“What, why?” My heart feels heavy, but it’s racing at the same time.
August takes my hands that are resting on the table and squeezes them. “I’ve been working hard on something for you, Chance.”
“What? What in the world are you talking about?”
“Zooey is four years old. She wants to be a princess when she grows up but knows she needs to find a king or a queen to be her parent before that happens. Zooey likes to swing on the swing-set, play with dolls, and sing. Her parents aren’t coming back. She was on her way out of the group home when I stepped in and made some calls and drafted many emails. There is paperwork for you to sign tonight. There will be one more home visit, and everything will get approved. Then, Zooey can be living with her new foster dad by this Friday.”
I’m staring through August right now. I’m digesting all her words. My breaths quicken, and I feel like I might explode with excitement, with tears, and with joy. “You did this?” I ask, my words hitch in my throat.
“I wasn’t going to stop until I made it happen,” she says. “If you have your eyes open and believe in fate, the rest comes together on its own.”
“That little girl I saw on the swings that day … was that Zooey?”
“Yes, that’s Zooey. That afternoon after we had lunch, she came to me asking when her mom was coming to pick her up. After a little talk, she explained that all she wanted was to grow up to be a princess. I told her I would do what I could to make that happen. I hugged her after that, and she told me she loved me. I told her I love her too. Every one of those kids deserves the world, but Zooey spoke to me that day, and I just knew—I knew you two were supposed to be together.”
My throat is tight, and I can’t figure out what to say or do. I just—I can’t believe this. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell her.
“I’m going to be by your side throughout the entire process. You have nothing to worry about.”
I place my head down on my arms, still holding her hands. She tugs my fingers to get my attention, and I lift my head. “Everything happens for a reason, Chance.”
“How do I thank you?” I’m sincere about my question. I owe her the world.
“You stepped into my life when I needed someone to lean on. It just worked out that way. Then, you saved my life. You’ve already done so much for me, and your heart of gold deserves joy and happiness. I’ve never asked anyone to do anything for me, Chance. I get more joy out of helping others, but in the past month, you have proven what it means to give and take, and it’s taught me a lot.”
“You—single-handedly have answered all my prayers, do you understand this?”
“It wasn’t all me. It's just in the cards.”
