Two

Alan removed his scrubs and pulled on his jeans then tugged his polo shirt over his head. The day had been difficult following a bad car accident on Fremont Boulevard, and he was glad to leave the stress behind him. His thoughts stressed him, too. He kept picturing Juli holding some guy’s hand at the restaurant.

Before the restaurant incident, Juli had filled his thoughts in a wonderful way. Now he felt confused. He looked forward to seeing her again so he could make sense out of the hand-holding circumstances. He’d hoped this time she would stop afterward for coffee. He’d thought about her relationship with the homeless, the way she seemed to befriend them, and he wished he could be a little mouse, listening to what she said to them. It had definitely made a difference. Though he spent his career working in the emergency room, he’d faced the sad fact that he didn’t have the knack of comforting people in that situation, either. He worked to save lives but forgot about the whole person sometimes.

Alan dropped his scrubs into a duffle bag and swung through the doorway, whacking the bag against something solid.

“Whoa!” Tom Denny staggered back then arched his brows. “Where are you headed in such a hurry?”

Embarrassed at his preoccupation, Alan found his voice. “I volunteer at a soup kitchen on Wednesdays. Want to come along?” Though he’d asked the question, he counted on Tom’s saying no.

“Since when do they take care of medical needs at a soup kitchen?”

Alan chuckled. “This isn’t medical. It’s soup.”

Tom curled up his nose. “You ladle soup?”

“Last week I ladled goulash.” The picture of Juli dumping goulash on the woman’s salad made him grin.

Tom’s frown deepened. “Why?”

The question caught Alan in the chest. He’d kept his personal life to himself, and he planned to continue keeping it private. “It’s a good thing to do. Our focus at the hospital is good health, but without nourishment people can’t have good health. The two go hand in hand.” An uneasy truth skittered up his back. Juli had become another motivation.

Tom shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”

“As always, Nurse Denny”— he gave Tom a grin—“you should know that for certain. Food and health were taught in Medicine 101.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You got me, Alan.”

Alan gave Tom’s arm a shake. “Now you know why I volunteer.” He took a step away before Tom spoke again.

Tom crinkled his nose. “I suppose the volunteers are a bunch of old folks.”

“Old? Not really. I’ve met some nice people of all ages.”

“All ages?” Tom searched Alan’s eyes a moment before continuing.

The question singed Alan’s patience. “I don’t ask to see their drivers’ licenses.”

Tom chuckled. “If there’s a young crowd, maybe I’ll go with you next week. I’d like to meet some new people. Where is the place?”

Though he was pleased Tom wanted to volunteer, the motivation irked him. Alan harnessed his irritation. “In Seaside.”

“I’ll think about it.” Tom opened his locker.

“I need to get moving. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Alan turned away, and this time he kept going, wanting to kick himself for inviting Tom and feeling guilty that he wanted to discourage him from volunteering. The charity always needed help, but Tom was a charmer. He worried Tom might come on to the women—Juli in particular.

A sigh sneaked from him. He’d wanted Juli all for himself, and Tom was another good-looking bachelor like that dude at the restaurant. Tom had his choice of a number of lovely young nurses at the hospital, and he’d dated many of them. Alan, on the other hand, didn’t have Tom’s gift of gab, but more than that he wasn’t comfortable with Tom’s flitting from one woman to the next. If Alan was looking for a relationship, he would want one with some real depth that might lead to a commitment. Tom’s values and his didn’t mesh.

If Tom really wanted to volunteer, another problem centered in Alan’s mind. He’d been quiet about his career at the charity, and he feared Tom might let everyone know. The last thing Alan wanted was a fuss about his being a physician. He wanted to participate by affecting lives in a different way, a way that meant too much to him. The need was great, and more hands made the work easier. His mother had often said something like that to him when he was a kid.

His mother. Every time he thought of her, he ached inside. Talk about a difficult life—his mother had been a prime example. Widowed with five small children and no work skills, she’d done everything to keep the family together, and Alan would always be grateful. Though he remembered the bad times, the rough edges were smoothed by what he had learned about survival and about the Lord.

Juli had mentioned God, and he wondered if it had been just a phrase—“there but for the grace of God go I”—or if it really reflected her relationship with the Lord.

He shook his head. Stop guessing. He felt like a kid who’d experienced his first heart flutter over a girl. He’d looked forward to seeing Juli again, but after seeing her with the other man on Saturday, confusion put him on edge.

What would he do when he saw her tonight. . .if he saw her tonight? Act normal, that’s all he could do, and if she didn’t mention the restaurant, neither would he. It would be easier.

❧

Juli stirred the pasta, her attention more on the door than the noodles. Alan had said he’d be there again this week, and she’d expected him to follow through. Then something had happened at the restaurant. She could only guess he’d seen her with Dill and made an assumption. She felt awful. Dill was a flirt with no serious purpose in mind. And something about Alan made her feel comfortable, as if she’d known him for years. Maybe it was the kindness in his eyes. His eyes. She could picture the twinkle behind the dusky lilac-blue that reminded her of rain clouds with a glimmer of sun shining through.

After she’d pulled away the week before, she wished she’d accepted Alan’s invitation for coffee. They would have gotten to know each other better, and he wouldn’t have reached the wrong conclusion at the restaurant. It had been late, but so what? Once again she knew why she’d hesitated. He would ask her more about herself, and she hated to talk about her life. Garlic. Why hadn’t she outgrown that problem? Her father had been a garlic farmer since she’d been born. Just before she entered high school, he’d bought the building for a store, and now it was well known. Her father’s hard work had grown into a lucrative business and given her many advantages. She should be proud rather than uncomfortable, and he’d changed, too, through the years. He’d softened.

But the taunts in high school still rang in her ears. Garlic Breath. Garlic Bud. Garlic Clove. Garlic Head. She’d heard them all from Melanie’s friends. They all lived in Gilroy. If they disliked garlic so much, why didn’t their families move away? Her shoulders tightened with the memories.

“Hi.”

Juli jumped, and a few macaroni noodles flew from the spoon.

“Sorry,” she said, amazed at how fast Alan had ducked from being splattered with the pasta elbows.

He bent down and picked up the mess from the floor. “I didn’t realize you had a weapon in your hand.”

She managed a grin while her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Next time it might be more than buckshot.”

“Noodle shot, you mean.” He strode to the trash can and dropped the pasta inside then eyed the stove. “Same as last week? Is it goulash every Wednesday?”

“Macaroni and cheese tonight.” She motioned with her free hand to the large pans of melting cheese.

“I love that stuff. Maybe I’ll go outside and get in line.”

Playing, she arched her brow. “I’d recommend you get to work.”

“What’s my job?”

“I think that’s your station.” She pointed to the salad area. “They’re shorthanded.” She’d peeked at the task chart to see where he would be.

He turned and eyed the salad station. “Is there a place to double check?”

“The task chart is on the wall near the door.” With his eyes he followed the direction in which she pointed then turned and walked across the kitchen to check the list.

After seeing him leave the restaurant on Saturday, Juli couldn’t believe how natural and friendly he seemed. Had she been mistaken? Maybe the person she saw leaving wasn’t Alan at all but someone who looked like him.

Alan returned, looking amused. “You were right.”

She felt compelled to be truthful. “I checked earlier.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to know you care.” He scanned the kitchen then gave her a questioning look.

She guessed he was looking for Dill and decided to ask. “What happened on Saturday?”

Alan looked uneasy. “Saturday. I—I—”

“Was it you I saw leaving? I ran outside, but you’d vanished. All I could think was it was someone who looked just like you.” She could see the answer in his eyes.

“It was me. I’m sorry. I just—”

She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him. “Did you see me with that guy?”

He lowered his head. “Yes. I didn’t feel comfortable, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Interrupt what? He was coming on to me.” Her pulse galloped. “I was waiting for you to save me.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Save you? Really?”

Heat rose up her neck. “Really.”

Alan drew closer and touched her arm. “Juli, I’m so sorry. You were holding hands, and I thought I’d misunderstood your invitation. I assumed you’d met someone, and. . . My showing up with an idea of spending time with you would have been uncomfortable for you and me.”

“I really don’t date, Alan, and I’m not usually the type men come on to.”

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t they?”

She thought about those dateless nights she’d endured and released a ragged sigh. “You don’t know me very well.”

“I don’t, but I’d like to.” His hand rested on her arm. “If you don’t mind.”

She felt heat rising to her face. “I don’t mind. I’d like to get to know you, too.” His hand slipped from her arm, and a smile lit his face.

“Now that we have that cleared up,” Juli said, “I’d better get moving before Bill tosses me out on my ear for holding you up.”

Alan eyed his workstation. “I’ll see you later.”

He walked to a glove box, grabbed a pair, then strode to the salad station while Juli wished she could forget her macaroni job and chop lettuce instead.

When the pasta had simmered long enough, Juli drained it and poured the contents into the cheesy sauce. In moments voices drifted from the dining room, and she saw Alan carry one of the large salad bowls to the serving area. She grasped a chafing pan and followed.

As she came through the door, Alan was standing with Angie, preparing to serve the entrée. With her heart sinking, she set the pasta container in front of them then stood behind the salad bowl. She’d gotten her wish to serve the salad, but not the way she’d planned. She clasped the serving spoons and prepared to add the salad mixture to the diners’ plates.

The line began, and she sent out smiles and greetings, noting those who seemed to be most heavily burdened. Talking with them was her favorite part of the job, and lately she’d begun thinking about that. During high school she knew she wanted to help people in some way, but now social work had settled in her heart, and she sensed God had put it there. She should have insisted on getting a college degree instead of going right into the family business, but she’d felt she should follow God’s commandment to honor her father, who asked her to work in the store and give her mother a rest.

She drew her focus back to the dining hall. Tonight seemed quieter with fewer people in attendance, and she figured they must have found their meals somewhere else. No matter; Juli always thanked God that they fed everyone who came through the door. They never ran out of food. Just like the Lord’s unending blessings, she thought.

While Alan chatted with Angie, Juli dragged her flagging spirit from behind the serving counter and headed into the table area as she always did. She moved along the rows of chairs, speaking to people, until an elderly woman called to her as she neared.

She’d never noticed the woman before. She stopped and slipped into an empty chair. “How are you tonight?”

The woman shook her head, her weathered hands clutching the paper napkin. “I miss my home.”

Juli wrapped her hand around the woman’s, brushing her wrinkled skin. “What happened?”

“The apartment building was torn down. They called it urban renewal.” Tears rimmed the woman’s eyes. “I’m too old to work. I have nothing.”

Sorrow knotted in Juli’s chest. “No family to help you? Children?”

“One’s dead, and one can’t help—she’s struggling herself. Living with a friend.”

Juli’s throat ached, trying to contain her emotion.

The woman brushed a tear from her eye. “I’ve seen you talking to the others. You always seem to make people smile.”

Her words touched Juli, but today she had no practical answer to solve the woman’s problem. She did, however, have a deeper message for the weary woman. “I wish I could help you find a place to stay, but I’ll pray about it for you. I hope you know you do have a home for eternity if you love the Lord.”

The woman’s gaze lifted toward Juli. “That’s what keeps me going. I often think of Job. He had real troubles.”

Real troubles, yes, but this woman’s were huge, too. Awareness struck her. Her own concern about garlic and Gilroy had no effect on anything important. The woman’s reflection had given Juli far more direction than she could offer the homeless woman.

“Job said the Lord gives and the Lord takes away,” the woman said. “Job was so right, but he ends that verse with even more powerful words. ‘May the name of the Lord be praised.’ So that’s what I do.”

Juli squeezed her hand. “You’re a true believer, and God loves you.”

The woman managed a weak smile and pressed her other frail hand on Juli’s. “You’re a kind woman. I see why so many like you. Take care of yourself, and thank you for listening to an old lady’s mumbling.”

“You’re not mumbling, and you’re very welcome.” A smile filled Juli’s heart. She was amazed that this woman with so much against her still had concern for others.

The woman kept Juli’s hand pressed between hers. “My name’s Rosie.”

“Nice to meet you, Rosie. I’m Juli.”

When she looked up, Alan stood nearby, listening. She gave the woman another pat and rose, her legs tingling from crouching too long. She moved in Alan’s direction, wondering why he’d been eavesdropping.

Alan met her halfway. “I should apologize for listening, but I’m curious how you reach these people. Whatever you say puts smiles on their faces.”

“I’m just talking with them.” She nodded to one of the regulars seated a table over. “I’ll come with you if you’re uncomfortable.”

He looked at the man then back at Juli. “Is this a challenge?”

She tilted her head in a playful pose. “You can call it anything you want.”

He chuckled and moved ahead while she stood back and watched.

As he neared, Alan’s face charged with concern when he heard the man’s ragged cough. “That sounds bad, sir.”

The scruffy man looked up in surprise. “Sir?” He appeared to question the title. He pressed his hand against his chest. “You talkin’ to me?”

“I am. Are you taking anything for that cough?”

The man pulled out a grayish, soiled handkerchief and blew his nose. “Don’t have nothin’ to take, but I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine if you get some care. Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”

His shoulder twitched. “I do all right.”

Juli knew he probably slept on the street somewhere, but Alan seemed to know it, too. He gave her a doubtful look. She wanted to step in and offer help, but she couldn’t do that to Alan on his first try.

Alan squatted beside the man. “Maybe we can find a place for you tonight.” He gave Juli a questioning look.

She beckoned him toward her and kept her voice low. “I called awhile ago for a woman, but they had no room for her. I can try again. They might have a spot in the men’s section.”

Alan’s face lit with hope, and he nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She squeezed his shoulder and stepped away. Her spirit lifted when the director gave the go-ahead. “But this is it,” he said. “That’s our last spot.”

Forming a telephone with her hand, Juli gave a nod as she returned to Alan with the good news.

“Great,” he said, rising from his haunches as he spoke to the man. “My friend here called, and they’re holding a bed for you right down the street. Tell them the soup kitchen sent you, and they’ll know who you are.”

“Thank you,” he said, extending a grubby hand to Alan.

Alan shook the man’s hand without hesitation.

His loving response to the man touched Juli. She moved away, admiring Alan from the distance.

When the ailing man rose, Alan walked him to the door, pointing down the block, and then turned, his gaze searching the room until he spotted her. He strode to her beside the serving counter. “Looks like everything’s pretty well cleaned up tonight.” He motioned to the cleared tables.

“A smaller crowd makes it easier,” she said, leading the way into the kitchen. She removed her apron, grabbed her handbag from the storage area, and slid it on her shoulder. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Me, too.”

He seemed to search her face. She didn’t know what to say, and then it struck her. “You did a nice job, by the way. He really needed your help.”

“He has a bronchial cough. It could lead to pneumonia, or he could have walking pneumonia. His coloring is bad.”

Juli deliberated if she should tease him for giving out medical advice. She decided against it, not wanting to discourage him. Alan was a great addition to the volunteers. She hoped he would invite her for coffee tonight. He fell into step with her, but Juli sensed someone following behind them. She turned and saw Angie looking at Alan.

“Are you leaving?”

Juli frowned, waiting to learn if Alan had made plans with her.

A confused expression flew onto Alan’s face. “Leaving? Yes.”

Juli sensed Alan wasn’t comfortable with Angie’s attention, or was it her own wishful thinking?

Angie glanced at Juli then back to Alan. “I wanted to—”

While she hesitated, Juli’s heart dipped into a dark hole before popping out again. She grasped her courage, knowing now might be her only chance. “I’ll take you up on that coffee invitation, Alan.”

Alan’s confusion shifted to a smile. “Great.”

Juli couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to ask him out for coffee.

Alan turned to the other woman. “Could we talk next week?”

“Next week? Okay.” Her look sailed toward Juli like a poison dart before she turned to leave.

“Ready?” Alan asked.

Juli released a pent-up breath. “I sure am.”

“Good night,” she said to the young woman as she felt Alan’s hand clasp her arm.

Juli wanted to sink through the floor. She’d never in her life asked a man to go anywhere, and now that she had, she felt great empathy for Alan because she’d refused his invitation last week. What would she have done if tonight he’d said no?