were empty and the waiter had taken their
dessert orders. He could only imagine what was going on in her mind. Her eyes
showed that the machinery was churning at maximum speed, trying to make sense
of what she’d learned today.
Their slices of apple pie had
arrived before she finally broke the silence, changing the subject. “So, how
did you get involved in this charity?”
Should he tell her the entire
story? He’d revealed his involvement to the many people he recruited, but never
told anyone why he got into it. Was Allison the one he should divulge the story
to?
He noted the expectancy in her
eyes, and knew he had to say something—anything—while he made up his mind
whether to tell her the full story.
“Well, I went on a search for a way
to spend some of my spare time. That’s how I found the food drive.” Okay, so he
was being flippant. Maybe she wouldn’t catch on.
~~*~~
Allison couldn’t decide if he was
joking or being truthful. Maybe there was there a bit of both in his last
statement. Whatever it was, he seemed to be stalling, as if he didn’t want to
talk about it.
“We can talk about something else,
if this is uncomfortable for you.” She offered him a way out.
“No. It’s okay. I’ve never had
anyone ask me about it, so I’m just not sure how to answer.”
That seemed reasonable, but she
persisted. “Are you sure? I was just suggesting a subject to discuss. I don’t
have to know.”
“I don’t mind talking about it.
Honestly.” His eyes reflected his words. “I was trying to figure out where to
start. That’s all.”
She tried to form an understanding
smile. “Okay, then. As long as you’re not uncomfortable about telling it, I’ll
be happy to listen.”
He inhaled deeply. “My father was
in the Army when he met my mother, but he didn’t make a lot of money. When I
was about five years old his enlistment was up and we moved here so Dad could
find a job with better pay.” He paused, taking a sip of his wine. “That didn’t
work out too well.”
“You were living like the people
you deliver these boxes to, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.” His gaze went to his
half-eaten pie. “When I was eleven, the Gulf War broke out and Dad re-enlisted.
By then, the pay was a little higher, but Mom was scared he wouldn’t return
alive—and he didn’t.”
She watched the moisture build up
in his eyes, reached across the table, and took his hand. His head snapped up
as if her gesture had shocked him. Maybe it had. The electricity she’d felt
yesterday was there again.
He tried to smile, but it faltered,
though she wasn’t sure if it was due to her touch or the emotions she saw
raging in his eyes. She had an inkling both were to blame.
“You don’t have to say any more if
you don’t want to.” She’d seen this man shed tears earlier in the day, and
didn’t want to be the cause of a repeat performance.
He retrieved his hand, and wiped
his eyes as well as he could with his palms. “No. It’s okay. I guess I need to
talk about it.” A handkerchief appeared in his hand—presumably from his
pocket—and he wiped his nose. “Luckily for us, Dad had somehow found a way to
get a good life insurance policy to make sure Mom and I weren’t left penniless.
I never knew anything about it until I finished high school. Mom did the best
she could with her widow’s pension from the Army, but we had to rely on the
kindness of others many times, too.”
Allison stopped him momentarily.
“Wait. What happened to the insurance check?”
He chuckled. “She saved it because
she wanted me to go to college. So that’s what I did.”
“Very smart mother you have.” She
winked.
His smile turned melancholy. “Had.
Mom died from a heart attack almost five years ago.”
She didn’t know how to respond to
that, but she hoped her eyes conveyed the sympathy she felt.
“Dylan’s all I have left now. If I
can’t find a way to treat his illness, I’ll lose him, too.”
Her hand
dessert orders. He could only imagine what was going on in her mind. Her eyes
showed that the machinery was churning at maximum speed, trying to make sense
of what she’d learned today.
Their slices of apple pie had
arrived before she finally broke the silence, changing the subject. “So, how
did you get involved in this charity?”
Should he tell her the entire
story? He’d revealed his involvement to the many people he recruited, but never
told anyone why he got into it. Was Allison the one he should divulge the story
to?
He noted the expectancy in her
eyes, and knew he had to say something—anything—while he made up his mind
whether to tell her the full story.
“Well, I went on a search for a way
to spend some of my spare time. That’s how I found the food drive.” Okay, so he
was being flippant. Maybe she wouldn’t catch on.
~~*~~
Allison couldn’t decide if he was
joking or being truthful. Maybe there was there a bit of both in his last
statement. Whatever it was, he seemed to be stalling, as if he didn’t want to
talk about it.
“We can talk about something else,
if this is uncomfortable for you.” She offered him a way out.
“No. It’s okay. I’ve never had
anyone ask me about it, so I’m just not sure how to answer.”
That seemed reasonable, but she
persisted. “Are you sure? I was just suggesting a subject to discuss. I don’t
have to know.”
“I don’t mind talking about it.
Honestly.” His eyes reflected his words. “I was trying to figure out where to
start. That’s all.”
She tried to form an understanding
smile. “Okay, then. As long as you’re not uncomfortable about telling it, I’ll
be happy to listen.”
He inhaled deeply. “My father was
in the Army when he met my mother, but he didn’t make a lot of money. When I
was about five years old his enlistment was up and we moved here so Dad could
find a job with better pay.” He paused, taking a sip of his wine. “That didn’t
work out too well.”
“You were living like the people
you deliver these boxes to, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.” His gaze went to his
half-eaten pie. “When I was eleven, the Gulf War broke out and Dad re-enlisted.
By then, the pay was a little higher, but Mom was scared he wouldn’t return
alive—and he didn’t.”
She watched the moisture build up
in his eyes, reached across the table, and took his hand. His head snapped up
as if her gesture had shocked him. Maybe it had. The electricity she’d felt
yesterday was there again.
He tried to smile, but it faltered,
though she wasn’t sure if it was due to her touch or the emotions she saw
raging in his eyes. She had an inkling both were to blame.
“You don’t have to say any more if
you don’t want to.” She’d seen this man shed tears earlier in the day, and
didn’t want to be the cause of a repeat performance.
He retrieved his hand, and wiped
his eyes as well as he could with his palms. “No. It’s okay. I guess I need to
talk about it.” A handkerchief appeared in his hand—presumably from his
pocket—and he wiped his nose. “Luckily for us, Dad had somehow found a way to
get a good life insurance policy to make sure Mom and I weren’t left penniless.
I never knew anything about it until I finished high school. Mom did the best
she could with her widow’s pension from the Army, but we had to rely on the
kindness of others many times, too.”
Allison stopped him momentarily.
“Wait. What happened to the insurance check?”
He chuckled. “She saved it because
she wanted me to go to college. So that’s what I did.”
“Very smart mother you have.” She
winked.
His smile turned melancholy. “Had.
Mom died from a heart attack almost five years ago.”
She didn’t know how to respond to
that, but she hoped her eyes conveyed the sympathy she felt.
“Dylan’s all I have left now. If I
can’t find a way to treat his illness, I’ll lose him, too.”
Her hand
Similar Books
