, PUT AWAY HER GROCERIES , AND JUST make it to work on time.
When she walked in, Geanie regarded her with surprise. “Two days in a row I beat you here. I think that’s unprecedented.”
Cindy was almost always the first one at work in the morning, sometimes beating the others by twenty minutes.
“I was grocery shopping for Thursday,” she said, not wanting to explain further.
“Cool! I invited a friend who had nowhere to go either. I hope that’s okay.”
Cindy smiled. “Sure. Besides, I invited Harry, the homeless guy who occasionally falls asleep in the sanctuary.”
“Wow, awesome. It should be a memorable Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah, hopefully it’s just not memorable for me setting the turkey on fire or anything like that.”
“My dad did that once. It wasn’t his fault, though. There was a stove malfunction,” Geanie said. “It ended up being fine. We just ate around the seared parts. It gave the stuffing a funky smoky flavor, though.”
“Eew.”
“As long as the food Thursday is edible, you won’t hear me complain.”
A minute later Dave came into the office and made a bee-line for Cindy’s desk. He handed her a piece of paper with a sheepish grin.
“What’s this?”
“Address and directions for the house your team will be delivering food to tomorrow afternoon. I also put down the names of the kids who will be going in your car. I put the shyer kids in your car, so hopefully everything will go smoothly and quietly.”
She wasn’t sure if she should thank him or stick her tongue out at him. She was still unhappy about the way he had dragged her into driving for the event. She settled for a nod.
“We’re all meeting up in the youth room tomorrow to do a quick rally and to grab the food before taking off. Extra boxes of food are going to be delivered to the homeless shelter after the event. If you could at least drop your kids off there, you don’t have to stay. I can find them rides home at that point.”
“No, that’s okay,” she said. The homeless shelter didn’t bother her so much. Plus she still had some questions for Bernadette and hoped the woman would be there to answer them.
“Awesome! I’ll see you then. Well, I’ll probably see you before then. You know what I mean,” the youth pastor finished in exasperation.
Cindy couldn’t help but smile as he left the office. Whatever her problems were, at least she didn’t have to deal with a hundred kids aggravating them each week.
It was almost ten in the morning before the detectives released Jeremiah and he made it to the drugstore. He stood for what felt like an hour staring at the rows of cold and flumedication and despite his best intentions, he just couldn’t force his brain to compare them all and make a choice.
A clerk, seemingly sensing his uncertainty, finally approached. “Can I help you with something?”
Jeremiah gestured to the wall and slurred his dilemma. He hoped it was understandable to someone besides him. For a moment he wasn’t even sure if he’d spoken in English.
The clerk cheerfully selected several different candy-colored packages and put them all in Jeremiah’s basket. Jeremiah nodded gratefully, too out of it to even register what the man was saying about dosing. He added some water, microwaveable soup, saltine crackers, and 7-Up to his cart before heading for the register.
Once in his car he cracked open a bottle of water and sorted through his packages of pills until one that said “Cold” on it jumped out at him. He popped two tablets out of their sharp, plastic and metallic packaging and downed them, praying that they were fast acting. Then he headed to the synagogue, unsure of what was waiting for him there but convinced that somehow he would manage. He’d never hear the end of it from Marie otherwise.
There were twenty-three messages on the answering machine in the office by the time he got there, and half a dozen of them were from Marie checking to make sure that everything
When she walked in, Geanie regarded her with surprise. “Two days in a row I beat you here. I think that’s unprecedented.”
Cindy was almost always the first one at work in the morning, sometimes beating the others by twenty minutes.
“I was grocery shopping for Thursday,” she said, not wanting to explain further.
“Cool! I invited a friend who had nowhere to go either. I hope that’s okay.”
Cindy smiled. “Sure. Besides, I invited Harry, the homeless guy who occasionally falls asleep in the sanctuary.”
“Wow, awesome. It should be a memorable Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah, hopefully it’s just not memorable for me setting the turkey on fire or anything like that.”
“My dad did that once. It wasn’t his fault, though. There was a stove malfunction,” Geanie said. “It ended up being fine. We just ate around the seared parts. It gave the stuffing a funky smoky flavor, though.”
“Eew.”
“As long as the food Thursday is edible, you won’t hear me complain.”
A minute later Dave came into the office and made a bee-line for Cindy’s desk. He handed her a piece of paper with a sheepish grin.
“What’s this?”
“Address and directions for the house your team will be delivering food to tomorrow afternoon. I also put down the names of the kids who will be going in your car. I put the shyer kids in your car, so hopefully everything will go smoothly and quietly.”
She wasn’t sure if she should thank him or stick her tongue out at him. She was still unhappy about the way he had dragged her into driving for the event. She settled for a nod.
“We’re all meeting up in the youth room tomorrow to do a quick rally and to grab the food before taking off. Extra boxes of food are going to be delivered to the homeless shelter after the event. If you could at least drop your kids off there, you don’t have to stay. I can find them rides home at that point.”
“No, that’s okay,” she said. The homeless shelter didn’t bother her so much. Plus she still had some questions for Bernadette and hoped the woman would be there to answer them.
“Awesome! I’ll see you then. Well, I’ll probably see you before then. You know what I mean,” the youth pastor finished in exasperation.
Cindy couldn’t help but smile as he left the office. Whatever her problems were, at least she didn’t have to deal with a hundred kids aggravating them each week.
It was almost ten in the morning before the detectives released Jeremiah and he made it to the drugstore. He stood for what felt like an hour staring at the rows of cold and flumedication and despite his best intentions, he just couldn’t force his brain to compare them all and make a choice.
A clerk, seemingly sensing his uncertainty, finally approached. “Can I help you with something?”
Jeremiah gestured to the wall and slurred his dilemma. He hoped it was understandable to someone besides him. For a moment he wasn’t even sure if he’d spoken in English.
The clerk cheerfully selected several different candy-colored packages and put them all in Jeremiah’s basket. Jeremiah nodded gratefully, too out of it to even register what the man was saying about dosing. He added some water, microwaveable soup, saltine crackers, and 7-Up to his cart before heading for the register.
Once in his car he cracked open a bottle of water and sorted through his packages of pills until one that said “Cold” on it jumped out at him. He popped two tablets out of their sharp, plastic and metallic packaging and downed them, praying that they were fast acting. Then he headed to the synagogue, unsure of what was waiting for him there but convinced that somehow he would manage. He’d never hear the end of it from Marie otherwise.
There were twenty-three messages on the answering machine in the office by the time he got there, and half a dozen of them were from Marie checking to make sure that everything
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