Chapter 19

 

 

When Sandy phoned the next morning with the suggestion of a girl’s day out, some Christmas shopping, lunch, and a matinee performance of The Nutcracker, Gracie leaped at the chance.

“It’s my last day to do my own thing before I’m wrapped up in the kids’ holiday school activities and then having them home full time until January. Heck yeah,” she said.

Sandy picked her up and they set off for Arizona Mills. “I normally don’t touch that place,” Sandy said, “but it’s the middle of the week and I’m hoping every other person who finagled a vacation day during the season won’t be there at the same time.”

“How did you manage a vacation day at the end of the year?” Gracie settled into the Mazda’s comfortable passenger seat.

Sandy laughed. “Believe it or not, I still had days left from last year, and corporate came down with a ‘use em or lose em’ policy this year. So, they didn’t have much choice.”

They cruised toward the busy shopping mall and exited I-10. At the intersection of the off-ramp and Baseline Road a man with a cardboard sign sat at the curb. My kids need a Christmas too, said the sign.

“Oh, sad.” Gracie looked across the two lanes of vehicles and almost reached for her door handle.

“Too dangerous,” Sandy warned. “The light’s going to change any minute.” She glanced toward the corner and stared. “Oh my gosh, I know that man.”

“What? The guy with the sign?”

“Yes. He comes to Heaven Sent pretty regularly. I’ve spoken with him. I should remember his name …”

A car behind her honked impatiently. The light had changed and she had no choice but to move on.

“He’s pretty far from home,” Gracie said. “Well, if a homeless shelter can be considered home. This is so sad. I wish there was something we could do for him.”

“Trini told me he begs on street corners a lot. At least enough to get bus fare across town, it seems.” Sandy stayed with the flow of traffic and they had soon crossed a major freeway overpass. Too late to make a move and turn back to Ron’s intersection. That was his name—Ron.

Gracie dug into her purse and pulled out a few dollar bills. “At least I’ll be ready if we pass someone else. Or if we go back this way and he’s still there.” She tucked the money into the center console.

The huge outdoor mall was crowded and the cloudy, chilly day and lavish holiday decorations put the ladies in the spirit. “I could just walk around with a hot chocolate in hand and look at the sparkly things,” Gracie said, “without actually setting foot in a store.”

“I only need a couple of gifts,” Sandy told her. “We drew names for Secret Santa at work, and the woman I picked loves lotions and creams. I thought I’d find something along those lines.”

“I know the perfect store for that,” Gracie said, pointing toward one of the few non-chain shops. “I met the lady who owns Maggie’s Magical Mixes. She’s great. She makes all her own soaps, lotions, and candles. And she’s got a friend who creates mixes for soups and breads. I’ll grab some of those while you look at the bath products, if you’re interested.”

They headed inside and spent nearly an hour browsing and sampling. Maggie offered tastes of some cranberry muffins she’d baked from one of their mixes. “If you’re still in the mall around noon, pop by for a taste of the corn chowder. It’s cooking in the crock pot right now.”

Noon saw them grabbing a table at a pub, setting their gift bags aside while they indulged in French onion soup and crusty bread, then it was on to midtown for the ballet. Afterward, Gracie’s eyes sparkled.

“Scott and I used to bring the kids to see The Nutcracker every year,” she said as they retrieved Sandy’s car from the parking garage. “They loved it when they were little, but I guess they’ve become too sophisticated as teens.”

“By the time they’re adults they’ll love it again,” Sandy told her. “Even without kids to bring, the story enchants me every time I see it.”

The downtown avenues had a number of street people, some meandering in their own little worlds, talking to themselves; others claimed a corner, with a beseeching look in their eyes and a hand out. Gracie managed to give away all her dollar bills before they reached the 202.

“It was a fun day. Thanks for thinking of me,” she said as Sandy dropped her off at home.

Sandy had her mind on picking up cat food as she pulled into the crowded Basha’s Supermarket parking lot nearest her home. She dashed into the store, bought four cans of Fancy Feast, and was on her way back to her car when she spotted a somewhat familiar figure.

The man was dressed in grimy chinos, a knitted watch cap, and an oversized jacket. He carried a cardboard sign down at his side. She would swear it was the homeless man, Ron. He walked with confidence from the bus stop at the corner and into the Basha’s parking lot. She watched as he stooped to do something with his shoe, then the lights flickered on a white Mazda parked in the side lot. He tossed the cardboard sign into the back seat and climbed in behind the wheel. The car backed out and headed toward the exit.

Sandy ran to her car and jumped in, starting it and backing out, realizing she’d barely checked her mirrors.

Ron’s car made a right turn out of the lot and she followed his moves. What was a homeless guy doing with such a nice car, and where was he going?