Chapter Fourteen

Sam looked down at his watch as he rushed up the steps of Grace House the following day. One o’clock. He was late. Since giving up on God and church, sleeping in on Sundays was fast becoming a new habit. Add a flat tire and voila! He was an hour behind schedule.

Before he could knock, Nicole opened the door. Her sparkling green eyes grew wide. “My you gave me a start. I was worried something happened to you when you didn’t answer your cell phone.”

“I left the phone on my dresser by accident. Sorry. Slept late, flat tire, bad morning.”

Nicole laughed. “I think God is trying to tell you something.”

Sam tried not to smile. Christians. They never gave up. “Do you really believe I got a flat tire because I didn’t go to church?”

“No. But I was hoping you had gone.” Nicole stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

He took a step back. “And they want me back in the fold?”

“That’s right.” She waltzed right by him and down the porch stairs. “Don’t worry, God is still there for you. I’ll keep praying for you.”

“Nice to know you’re concerned about me,” he teased.

She stopped, turned and lifted her left eye brow. “Mmm, I guess I am.”

“How are you feeling today? Still sore from all the painting?” he asked.

Nicole rolled her shoulders. “I’m fine. I guess I’ll live. To be honest a little achiness is nothing compared to the knocks I took as a kid.”

His stomach seemed to drop as her voice became flat.

“You had a tough childhood?”

“It wasn’t all roses, but I survived.” The lightness had left her voice as she dropped her gaze to her watch. “My, look at the time. We’d better get moving.”

“Where’re you going?” He wanted to question her some more about her past, but it was clear she wasn’t going to pour out her deepest, darkest secrets to him.

“Why to the homeless shelter of course.” The cheerfulness returned to her voice.

“I’m here to see Joshua,” Sam called from the porch.

“Well, he’s not here. He went straight to the shelter after church with Regina.

Like they do the fourth Sunday of every month.”

“They do?” Sam followed her.

“They serve the noon meal and then they play a few games with the residents.” Nicole picked up her pace. “I’m on the cleanup crew and we’re late.”

They walked up to the corner of Third and Main and Sam took a good look at the property that Bill wanted to seize. The street was sprinkled with a lot of mom and pop businesses, but there were many vacant buildings as well—an obvious sign the town was struggling. Nicole took a hard left on Main.

“Isn’t the shelter to the right?”

“Not anymore. Not since the landlord started charging for the space.” Nicole sidled around a middle-aged, fashionable couple in tennis shorts.

“What are you talking about? The shelter never had to pay rent.”

Nicole never broke her stride. “That was before Jim Benson sold the property to some investors William Pendleton brought in. They imposed a low rent for a while but then it started to go up—and not just a small amount. It was clear they wanted the shelter gone.”

“Why? It’s not a problem. They only have a handful of people there anyway. Golden Ridge has always helped the less fortunate get back on their feet.”

She trucked up Main Street with her arms pumping like a sprinter’s. “Things are different now. With businesses closing, the homeless population has increased.”

He was hard pressed to keep up with her; clearly her frustration was making her pour on the steam.

“But Pendleton’s investors will bring new life to this town. Start new businesses.”

She snorted. “We thought so, too.” She waved her hand. “Look around you. Over half of our local businesses are gone. They want the land to create a new and improved Golden Ridge.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Progress?”

“Yeah, so we were led to believe. But they just bought the buildings and they’ve let them sit. Then they went and built big box stores over near Silver Ridge, not more than fifteen miles away. Rumor is they want to make this area the summer retreat for the well-off. Oh, Wyman’s Grocery is still open and a few other shops, but they won’t be for long. How can they compete with huge super-sized stores that have bargain prices?”

He was beginning to get the picture. Anyone coming from St. Louis, planning to vacation at one of the lakes, would stop at the cheaper big box supermarket before hitting Golden Ridge’s town limits. Pendleton and his investors wanted to transform this town in the same way—more chain stores owned and operated by people who didn’t live in Golden Ridge. But that couldn’t all be bad.

“In a long run, all the people in Golden Ridge will benefit.” A red Ferrari rolled down the street. A Ferrari in Golden Ridge? That was a switch.

“But it hasn’t happened. Oh, a few people have and will, but it’s become clear that most won’t. The real estate on the lakes has gone through the roof, so have the taxes. Rumor has it that William Pendleton wants Grace House and the blocks around it to build expensive luxury condos. To make a long story short, a lot of people will have to move away from Golden Ridge and those that stay might not fare too well. At any rate, we were forced to move the shelter to Canal and Main. But who knows how long the place will stay open. The rent is pretty ridiculous there too.”

No doubt another fallout from Pendleton’s investors. Clearly the old Golden Ridge was dying and a new one would emerge. Fast cars, wealthy people, one more good reason to get out of Dodge.

Nicole came to a stop and waved toward an aged, white-sided building. “Here we are.”

They walked up a set of pock-marked cement stairs and into a building that probably hadn’t changed in fifty years. Creaky wood floors led to a large great room. The air hummed with happy voices and soft piano music. Nicole was right. The usual handful of people at the shelter had tripled. They sat on large worn couches or at long tables covered with white plastic tablecloths. The air smelled of hot ham and chocolate chip cookies.

Sam scanned the room and found Joshua playing a game of checkers with a man dressed in a drab gray T-shirt and a pair of holey jeans. His unkempt red hair and sunken cheeks told the hard story of the man’s life. “Looks like Joshua is in the middle of something important.”

Nicole tugged on Sam’s hand. “Come. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

She led him to an elderly man with a thick, wiry gray beard who sat at one of the tables, his hands wrapped around a black coffee mug. “Sam, this is Gus.”

“Pleased to meet you, Gus.”

The older man nodded. “I know who you are.”

A slight embarrassment rolled over Sam because he didn’t remember the other man right away. Then the thought came. Gus used to work at Wyman’s Grocery Store. “You used to let my son help pack my groceries over at Wyman’s. You made his day when you did that.”

Gus tipped his head toward where Joshua was sitting. “He’s a fine boy.”

Nicole touched Sam’s arm. “I have to go to the kitchen and help Regina. Gus, do you mind talking to Sam for a while until his son is done playing checkers?”

“Not at all.” Sam eased himself onto the bench on the other side of the table.

He was beginning to feel like he’d been set up when he noticed the toothless grin Gus gave Nicole.

“So,” Sam said, “I gather you’re not working at Wyman’s anymore.”

“Not since they opened that bigger grocery store over in Silver Ridge. Let’s face it. People are into ‘new and improved’ nowadays.” Gus took a slurp of his coffee. “Mr. Wyman was pretty frazzled when he had to give me the boot, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Deek Johnson is the only employee left. The Wymans keep him on because he’s Mrs. Wyman’s nephew.”

Sam knew Deek. He used to deliver groceries to Golden Ridge Memorial Hospital. “The hospital cafeteria still gets their food from Wyman’s, don’t they?”

“The hospital board said they could save up to a third of their costs if they placed large orders with the big grocery chain in Silver Ridge.” Gus shook his head. “Things are sure changing. All my savings are gone, and here I am toothless and fancy free.”

Yep, Nicole had set him up all right. “I think I can help you with the toothless part.”

Gus waved his hands. “No, no. I’ve taken enough charity already.”

Sam folded his hands on the table. “This won’t be charity. This will be payment for the joy you gave my son at Wyman’s.”

Color crept into Gus’ weathered cheeks. “Aw, that was nothing. As I said before, he’s a great kid.”

As if on cue, Joshua rushed up to the table, bringing along the man he was playing checkers with. “This is Frank. Miss ’Cole wants you to meet him.”

The man with the scraggly, red hair extended his hand. “Hi, nice boy you got here.”

As Sam finished the handshake, Joshua plunked down next to him. “His muler in his mouth hurts.”

Sam smiled and ran a hand across his son’s curly hair. “It’s pronounced molar.”

“It hurts. You can fix it,” Joshua pronounced.

Frank quickly took a seat next to Gus. “Could you help me? The pain comes and goes. I can’t pay you, but I could work off the fee by doing odd jobs around your place.”

Sam released a long breath and took out his cell phone. “No. It’s probably only a cavity. This one will be on me. That is if I can get some chair time at my old partner’s practice.” He looked between Gus and Frank. “Does anybody else here need some dental work?”

In less than an hour, Sam had a list of five other residents who needed dental care. Luckily, Sam was able to get chair time early every morning that week before his ex-partner, Alistair even started his day. He’d start the next morning with Gus and Frank. Then hopefully, he could see the others through the rest of the week. Maybe he could talk Alistair into doing a little charity work on the side, too.

Gus took the cab fare and directions to the office. “Thank you, doc and God bless you.”

Sam wanted to tell Gus to save the blessings for a believer, but then he didn’t want to be rude. Gus would have a new smile and, maybe someday, a new job. And that knowledge was worth more than any fee or blessing Gus could pay him.