Sunflower Alley (The Merriams Book 4) Page 7

  Her brother crossed the short distance to join them. Connor could tell the siblings were close from their easy way with each other, and there was no mistaking the protectiveness in Damien’s gaze. “I hear Soledad is the place to eat,” he said. “Good to meet you, Damien. I’m Connor.”

  “Connor…” Damien said, a clear call-out for his last name.

  Louisa punched him in the arm. “You know we don’t require people to give their last names. Connor prefers to keep his to himself, and we’re going to respect his wishes.”

  The look she gave Damien was pure older sibling, one he’d given to his younger siblings a million times.

  His heart clutched a moment, thinking about them. He had to lock down a rush of emotion. It was weird not to know what they were doing, if they were okay. Was he ever going to see them again? How did he start to make up for what he’d done?

  Louisa’s hand on his arm brought him back. “Connor handed me the most thorough business proposal I’ve ever seen this morning. The table of contents would blow your mind.”

  “I’d love to see it,” Damien said. “We’re always looking for good examples to model in the food industry. In a couple years, I want to open another restaurant. I’ll need more staff. Hint, hint.”

  “If you’re a good boy, I’ll show you the proposal. Later.” Louisa cut Connor another look. Yeah, she knew Damien had shown up to check on him. Boxer’s work? Connor would lay that bet. “You can get a start by helping Spicy with all of those potatoes. We’re going to get moving.”

  “See you all later,” Connor said, lifting his hand.

  Damien inclined his chin. “Come by Soledad anytime. Dinner will be on me.”

  Connor simply nodded and waited for Louisa to precede him out of the kitchen through one of the open panels. There was no way he’d be going to Soledad. From what he’d read, it was a favorite for business meetings. Even with his beard, he couldn’t be sure some banker or businessperson wouldn’t recognize him. Besides, he didn’t need to give Damien the chance to grill him.

  “He’s protective,” Louisa said with a shrug, glancing back at him. “Boxer is too.”

  “They all are,” Connor said. “Even Maria, and she’s clearly still recovering from her past circumstances.”

  She made a sound of agreement. “Yes, but she’s starting to flourish. Before she couldn’t stand being touched, even by Jewel. Next up is our dining hall.”

  The large space was filled with rows of brightly colored picnic tables, the yellow walls decorated with Tuscan-looking sunflowers.

  “You’ll know we serve three meals to a max of eighty people a day. Not always the same people, of course. Some stay with us. Others come in from the streets. Damien and the other chefs in our network send over any day-old produce or ingredients, and of course, we have donors who send us food and other items from our Amazon wish list.”

  “I saw that. I never would have thought to do it, but it’s an ingenious idea to give people a curated list.”

  When she beamed like that, she seemed taller, like she could fill the room all by herself. “I got the idea when I was buying a gift for a wedding. I was like, why can’t we do this? Put our registry up at various places on the website. Amazon is great because people don’t have to pay shipping on the items we’ve chosen. It’s a win-win, especially for people who either don’t have the time to volunteer or don’t want to heft a box of canned goods.”

  They left the dining hall and turned down another bright yellow hallway. “Did someone donate all this yellow paint?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but I ordered it yellow,” she said with a laugh. “Damien and Boxer think I got a little carried away painting sunflowers everywhere, but they like to give me crap.”

  “You painted them?” he asked, stopping when she halted in front of a door.

  “Yeah, and they’re not too bad. I mean, I’m no van Gogh or anything. But they seem to make people happy. That’s all that matters.”

  “Were the shelters you and your mother went to bright like this?”

  She shook her head. “No, but the way we interact with the homeless has changed since I was a kid. People now have a better sense about how color and atmosphere affects mood and the like.”

  He’d only seen her on three different occasions, but every time, she’d worn a bright-colored top with jeans or dark pants. Now he wondered if it was another attempt to make her guests feel welcome and appreciated. He tried not to stare. She really was a beautiful woman, and the bold colors she chose suited her light brown skin and dark hair. He kept wanting to reach out and touch her, to reassure himself she was real. “And you’re always reading up on something innovative to do, I expect.”

  “If you peek through the window in the door, you’ll see one of my ideas in action,” she said, “but be still. I don’t want you to interrupt them.”

  He looked through the rectangular window to see a young girl of maybe six or seven sitting on a multi-colored rug reading a book out loud to the two guinea pigs he’d seen on the website. “Story time with Mr. Snuggles and Mrs. Cuddles. I couldn’t believe it when I read about it. How did you ever come up with this idea?”

  She gave him a small smile. “Before I moved in with my dad, I got really behind in reading. It took me a year of after-school tutoring to catch up. My tutor had me read to a teddy bear.”

  “Ingenious,” Connor said, watching as the young girl traced the words in the book and continued to read to the animals.

  “Only I felt a live animal might encourage trust in a way a teddy bear can’t,” Louisa said. “I’ve made up a wonderfully magical story about Mr. Snuggles and Mrs. Cuddles missing their own kids, who’ve grown up and moved away. Spending time with the guinea pigs builds their self-esteem. Homeless kids don’t feel very special, let me tell you.”

  The glimmer in her eyes was its own kind of magic, and again he felt the impulse to touch her.

  “And it worked better than I could have imagined. The guinea pigs are loving and affectionate, something most of the children are starved for.”

  “Incredible,” he mused, hardly able to believe how still and yet engaged the guinea pigs seemed to be, sitting on the floor in front of the little girl. “Tell me about the child.”

  She sighed. “I can’t go into details for privacy reasons, but what I can say is that she’s like hundreds of kids I’ve seen walk in these doors. She’s like I was.”

  He turned to her, and this time he had to touch her, but he only let himself put his hand on her arm. “And you triumphed.”

  Her golden eyes flashed to him as she leaned into his touch. “I was lucky.”

  “It wasn’t just luck,” he said, thinking about his current circumstances. He let himself caress her arm before pulling away. A quick glance into the room made him smile. “My God, that little girl just closed her book and is laughing. Now she’s picking up the pig—”

  “Mrs. Cuddles is her name. And she’s not a pig.”

  “I stand corrected,” he said, oddly moved as the little girl hugged the animal like she was her best friend. Michaela used to be like that when she was little, more comfortable with animals than people. He hadn’t thought about that in forever. Part of him wished he’d paid more attention back then. “What happens now? Is the girl all alone in there except for the animals?”

  “That room is connected to our daycare facility, but this door is locked. Staffers can check on her from the window in the other room. When she’s ready to go back to the daycare program, she can. It’s not a perfect system, but it’s the best we have.”

  No, they dealt with a lot of situations no one would call remotely perfect, and yet they’d adapted. On the shelter’s website, Louisa had talked about her reasons for creating the program. It was hard for mothers or single fathers to go job hunting with a child in tow. Most homeless kids didn’t attend regular schooling, and some of them were too young to be left alone. “How many kids are you taking care of now?”

  “About th
irty children, anywhere from newborn babies to ten-year-olds.”

  Newborns? That made him a little sick. “And staff?”

  “Eight, but we sometimes have more with volunteers,” she explained. “Oh, here’s Greta. She was on my list since you mentioned her when you talked about expanding the childcare program. You’ll love her.”

  He nodded to the smiling gray-haired woman wearing a sweater dotted with laughing teddy bears. She had a palpable grandmotherly energy. “I just came from the kitchen. Carter is serving up some good treats like always. He said to come find you and meet your guest.”

  Louisa put her hand on his arm briefly, as if claiming him, and he liked it. He really liked it. “Connor, Greta. Greta, Connor. Connor is working with me on a new training program, and one of his ideas involves expanding our childcare program. Something for us all to discuss.”

  “I can’t wait to hear more about it,” Greta said. “Good to meet you, Connor. How long do you plan to be with us?”

  “As long as it takes to help Louisa and the neighborhood.”

  She arched a delicate brow. “That long, eh? Welcome aboard. Our story time guest seems to finished. Would you like to meet her?”

  Before he could answer, she was unlocking the door. Connor stepped forward and watched as the little girl hugged Mrs. Cuddles to her and showed Greta the bright-colored book she’d been reading. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of him, and she hugged Greta around the legs.

  “I think I scare her,” he said, oddly hurt at the thought. Being the Big Bad Wolf hadn’t bothered him with adults, but kids were different. Maybe he’d read too much into Jewel’s comment. He was still scary.

  Louisa put her hand on his back, her touch radiating warmth and comfort. “It’s not you. She’s wary of men, for good reason, something we try and heal as best we can. Kendra, I wanted you to meet another storyteller. This is Connor, and he’s just written a new story for me that I can’t wait to share with everybody. You’ll be seeing him around a little, so I wanted to let you know he’s my friend. Okay?”

  The little girl ducked out from behind Greta’s legs, her brown eyes shifting to everything but Connor before she finally looked him in the eye. “What’s your story about?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

  He’d been thirteen when Michaela was born, and so he knew to sink to a knee so he would be on her level. “It’s about people who really want to follow their dreams. It shows them a road they can take to get there.”

  “When they’re sleeping?” she asked, her arm still around Greta’s leg as Louisa put away the two guinea pigs in the large cage in the center of the room.

  He thought of how he might explain it to Corey’s boys. “The dreams we have when we’re sleeping are a little different than the ones we have when we’re awake. I used to dream I could do anything I wanted.” He almost laughed at himself. Now he understood what hubris that had been. All the money and power and intelligence in the world hadn’t prevented the accident that had sent him down this spiral.

  Kendra’s small brows drew together. “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  She was silent a moment and then she said, “I want my mom and me to have a home again. And enough food to eat every day. And a chocolate bar whenever I want it. That’s a dream, right?”

  Her words, so innocently spoken, wrenched something inside of him. Food and shelter shouldn’t be a dream, but it was to this little girl. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he looked over to Louisa. “What say you, Ms. Evans?”

  She sank to her knee as well. “Kendra, when I was your age, I wanted to have a home again too with my mom. As time went on, I got more dreams. I dreamed about growing up and getting a really good job and helping others. Now I have so many dreams I sometimes don’t know what to do with them all.” She glanced at him, her eyes glimmering. “And you know what? I dreamed about meeting someone who could help me do something important, and that dream came true.”

  His chest grew tight. Is that what he was doing? Yeah, and he’d better not mess it up. Before the training plan had been more cerebral to him, but meeting Kendra and the others had driven home how much it would affect—and hopefully help—real people.

  Kendra nodded finally. “I guess I dream about going back to school and being with my friends. I’m afraid they’ll forget me.”

  “Not a special girl like you,” Connor said. “It was good to meet you, Kendra. I bet you’re a really excellent reader.”

  She came forward to where Connor was still kneeling, and that simple action seemed to convey he’d won her trust. Again, his chest tightened.

  “Thank you,” she said, holding out her hand to him in what he recognized was a fist bump.

  He gently touched her fist with his own, knowing he was going to remember this little girl for a long time.

  “See you later, mister. Bye, Miss Louisa.”

  “Enjoy the rest of your tour, Connor, and holler if you have any questions for me,” Greta said, her hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “Let’s get back to the other kids, Kendra. You can tell them about your book.”

  Louisa was smiling as they left. “You did good with her.” Crossing to the cage, she asked, “Want to hold one? I can’t resist them.”

  He held up his hands. “Nice to meet them, but I’m not going to coo and fawn over them like that.”

  “Is that what I’m doing?” She laughed and put the gold-and-white guinea pig to her face like they were butterfly kissing.

  “So you can be weird,” he said, unable to resist teasing her. “I had a feeling the night we met.”

  “I’m weird? You were the one in nothing but shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt in a snowstorm.”

  “I run hot, I tell you.” Even hotter in her presence. “Why in the world did you choose guinea pigs instead of some therapy dog or cat?”

  “There are lots of stray dogs and cats on the streets and not all of them are nice. Some are downright frightening. Guinea pigs are too small to make anyone feel threatened. They’re social, so I bought two on the spot. Of course, we only bring out Mr. Snuggles and Mrs. Cuddles with kids and people we deem nonviolent.”

  “Do you have violent people in here often?” It chilled him to think about this little girl and Louisa being around someone like that.

  “No, but sometimes it gets triggered by something you can’t foresee, or someone might forget to take their meds or stop on purpose. I take safety very seriously. People have to feel safe coming and staying here. Especially kids. I remember feeling unsafe, and it’s one of the worst feelings in the world, especially for a child. You know, the more I think about it, the more I love the idea of having a separate childcare program. We could put it off-site, and that would ensure the safety of the kids almost a hundred percent.”

  Had he ever felt unsafe, either as a kid or an adult? No. Never. His mind went to his parents then, to all they’d done to ensure he and his siblings had a sense of security. He wasn’t sentimental, but if they were still talking, he’d text his mom to tell her thanks. But he couldn’t. Not now. “Louisa…”

  She stopped kissing the furry animal and looked over. “What?”

  “What you’re doing here is great. I just wanted you to know…I’m not easily impressed.”

  And he didn’t want to let her down.

  “So you keep saying.” She put the guinea pig inside with a final coo. “I wonder who you’ve been surrounding yourself with to be so unimpressed.”

  Some of the most powerful people in the world. But he’d decided to separate himself from the past, so he said, “Perhaps that’s not the issue. Maybe there’s just no one like you.”

  She had a spring in her step as she crossed to him and laid her hand on his chest. He captured it there and held it.

  “I am an original,” she said, “and I suspect you are too. I’m looking forward to when you finally decide to share your secrets with me.”

  He caught the flirtatious gleam in her golden eyes. “Think I
will?”

  “Some of the toughest people on the streets have told me I’m irresistible.”

  “I won’t argue with that,” he said, caressing the hand on his chest. “Were you thinking about me when you wrote that note on the board in the entryway?”

  “You mean my daily love note? The one that said, ‘When someone offers to help you against all odds, say thank you and let them.’”

  He cringed. “Don’t make this something it’s not. I’m not a hero. I have my own self-interested reasons for helping you.”

  “I know, but you’re still helping,” she said, laughing. “I’m a cold, hard realist except when I’m not, and yes, you were on my mind. We also have some new volunteers who’ll be arriving shortly.”

  She gave him a huge smile, something he was beginning to anticipate and savor. Then she stepped back and looked down at her watch. “Come on. You can meet them.”

  He only smiled. He knew exactly who was coming in.

  He’d arranged it.

  Chapter 6

  Clara still wasn’t sure how she felt about Connor’s plan.

  So far all she’d done was dance to his tune, including exchanging the limo for a town car. Like Hargreaves hadn’t navigated city streets before. Did the boy forget she’d lived in Manhattan for decades? Connor had emphasized the increased crime rate in the neighborhood like she was a silly old woman.

  But despite her misgivings, she almost sighed as she walked into Sunflower Alley, taking in the sunshine walls painted with those tall gold and orange and red sunflowers. She gave their name to the young man sitting at the modest reception desk, and he welcomed them warmly and then jumped up to find this director they’d heard so much about. Her eyes fell on the hand-printed saying on the main wall, and she went all mushy, as Arthur would call it.

  When someone offers to help you against all odds, say thank you and let them. #lovenote

  Somehow she knew that sign was the start of their welcome party.