Nick swallowed past a dry mouth, struggling to fully grasp what Tammy said.
He watched a droplet of condensation slide down his glass. “I should be happy. Or relieved.” He shook his head. “All I ever wanted was a father. Someone to come to my football games, to take me on a college-hunting tour. In high school, I used to stare up at the bleachers, imagining my dad cheering me on.”
Tammy placed her hand over his. “I know. I remember.”
“Now what?”
Tammy’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her mouth lifting into a sympathetic smile.
The waitress appeared with their food and set matching plates of pancakes and sausage on the table. A lump lodged in his throat as he stared at the steaming links and golden cakes, the butter melting into a creamy puddle. Had his dad eaten today? Real food, or what he scrounged out of a garbage can? Where had he spent the night? Not at the shelter. Not if Tammy saw him at Riverview Memorial.
He looked into her blue eyes, so kind. “You’re sure it was him?”
“I’m sure.”
Nick straightened and set his jaw. “I need to find him.” He stood, dropped a twenty on the table, and started to leave.
“Wait.”
He turned.
“I’ll go with you.”
An overwhelming sense of love swept over him—a love that reached to his very depths. This would be tough. Painful. Letting go of the dad he’d created in his dreams, coming to grips with who his dad really was. Learning to accept—to love—his dad, homeless and insane.
But he wouldn’t have to do it alone. God had brought Tammy. Sweet, loving, beautiful Tammy.
“I’d like that.” He checked his watch. “Although . . . I don’t know how long it’ll take.”
She smiled. “I’ve got all day. The kids are spending the day with a dear friend.” Her eyes softened, and she reached for his hand. “I figured you might need a friend today.”
He looped his fingers through hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Tam. I really appreciate you.” He gazed into her eyes, noticing every turquoise speck, every eyelash curl, the soft lines beneath them revealing decades of laughter. So beautiful, inside and out.
After she gathered her things, he led her out of the restaurant and to his car.
Engine idling, he gripped the steering wheel with both hands. His stomach turned, an overwhelming sense of guilt pressing down on him as he thought of all the homeless men and women he’d passed throughout his lifetime. Looking at them with disdain, disgust.
For I was hungry and You gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and You gave me nothing to drink.
Dirty, hungry, desperate faces swam through his mind, swirling, merging into one—the face of his father.
His dad.
Lord, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.
Tammy laid her hand on his arm.
He smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re here.” His voice grew hoarse. “You always have been—when I’ve needed you most.”
Tears filled Tammy’s eyes as she looked into his, and for a moment, it appeared she wanted to say more. But then, with a slight smile, she gave his hand a squeeze and nodded. “Of course.”
Nick studied her a moment longer, then checked the time on the dash. 8:15. The Flaming Mesquite would open in under three hours. Lunch rush would hit in four, but nothing Chef Rictor couldn’t handle. Especially considering their low numbers of late.
He drove through the heart of downtown, then merged onto the freeway, slipping between two slow moving semis. “Janet from Heartland Donation Services called me.”
“Oh? What about?”
“I contacted her. I wanted . . .” He swallowed. “I’ve been praying for the recipients of my son’s organs. Every day. It brings me great comfort to know my son helped to save lives. But it’ll bring me even greater comfort to see them in heaven someday. That’d be the greatest blessing. To know that through my son’s gift, someone else was given the chance to find eternal life.”
He cast Tammy a sideways glance. “I feel like God’s been burning a message in my heart, and I asked her if there might be some way to share it. She said there was an organ donation awareness conference coming up. Said maybe I could share my story. And what God showed me through it.”
“That’s wonderful, Nick.”
As they neared Riverview Memorial, high-rises with reflective windows gave way to abandoned lots and dilapidated apartment buildings. On the corner of Farner and Ninth, two kids—neither older than ten—walked along the median. They held squeegees, and a plastic bucket sat between them. Whenever the light turned red, they darted into the street, squeegees raised, moving from car to car.
Nick wanted to give them money, but he was sandwiched in the middle lane, and the light turned green before he had a chance. With a heavy heart, he continued past an old lady, back bowed, shuffling down the sidewalk with a cane.
So many hurting people. How had he never noticed before?
Thank You, Lord, for opening my eyes to the needs all around me. Show me what I can do. How You want to love these people—these moms, dads, sisters, and brothers—through me.
After a three-hour search, he pulled into a parking lot and let his engine idle. “He could be anywhere.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to find him, am I?”
“I don’t know.” Tammy’s gaze flicked to the clock on the dash, suggesting perhaps Nick had stretched his search a bit too long.
“You didn’t steal it. I’m glad to be here. To walk with you through this, wherever it leads.”
His chest warmed—and ached—as he looked into her tender eyes. Warmed by her love but shredded by the wounds this trip had reopened. Wounds that deepened his commitment to gain custody of Jeremy, so his son never had to experience life without a dad. A close-knit family—with Tammy and her kids in it.
But was that what she wanted? His heart swelled at the possibility. She was a great mom, a strong Christian . . . but did she trust him? Enough to unveil her heart? To let him in?
After scanning the street one last time, Nick shifted into reverse. “I better get you back.” He looped around and headed east on Sycamore. A corner convenience store caught his attention, and he turned into the lot. An old man with caved in lips, bony shoulders, and a matted beard, rifled through a nearby garage can. He held a plastic bag in one hand and dropped an empty beer can into it.
“But first, I need to do something.” Nick parked, leaving the engine running, and got out. He dashed into the store, returning with a liter of water and two hot dogs.
“Excuse me, sir?” He approached the man who continued to dig through the trash. “Sir?”
The man startled and whirled around, eyes wide. His arm instinctively rose to shield his face, as if warding off blows. Nick’s heart wrenched as once again an image of his father flashed through his mind.
“You hungry?” He held out the hot dogs.
Squinting, the man stared first at the hot dogs, then at Nick, his wrinkled face scrunched as if trying to determine if he was a threat.
Lowering his shoulders to appear as nonthreatening as possible, Nick raised the hot dogs again. He set them on a napkin on the curb, placing the water bottle beside them. As he rose, he noticed a silver cross dangling from a chain around the man’s neck.
For I was hungry and You gave me something to eat.
Taking the food, the man smiled. “God bless you, son.”
Nick nodded. “You, too.” Tears pricked his eyes as he returned to his car. Lord, may someone show the same kindness to my dad. And please, help me find him.