Dear Readers - Here is a tender story of love and redemption. Perfect for a summer beach read. Enjoy.
*****
I was driving back from the hardware on a Saturday afternoon when I noticed two figures trudging along in the heavy monsoon rain. They didn't have raingear and were soaked through, a small wagon with gear trailing behind. I slowed and lowered my passenger window, "Can I offer you ladies a lift?"
They peered at me, looking totally miserable. The older one said, "Could you take us to a shelter somewhere?"
Our village is too small for a shelter of any kind, but I decided not to make their misery any worse. "Why don't you climb in out of the rain and we'll see what we can work out?"
I got out and tossed the wagon and its contents in the back of the pickup. They didn't look like they could get any wetter than they were.
I turned up the heater and told them, "Use those towels on the seat to dry off. I keep them around for situations like this. The young girl said, "Oh, you pick up women in distress all the time?"
She smiled at me but her mom said, "Lisa, mind your manners, that was not nice." She smiled too.
I said, "My name is Jeff Fredericks and I live here in town. We don't have an active shelter, but if you like, why don't you come home with me and wait for the rain to let up?"
Before her mom could say no, the young one said, "Thank you, I'd really like to dry out some."
The towels weren't helping much. They huddled together in the back seat, arms around each other, shivering.
I pulled into the garage and led them to the laundry room. "I'll go get you something to put on while we throw your stuff in the washer."
I took them upstairs in the borrowed robes to my master bath and said, "You better get in there and warm up. Don't mind how much hot water you use, there is plenty."
The clothes they were wearing hardly amounted to rags, but I washed them anyway. In the kitchen, I found some soup and put it on, along with the tea kettle.
I was stirring the soup when the older woman came down the stairs holding her daughter's hand.
"You are very kind to take us in like this. My name is Monica Smith and this is my daughter, Lisa."
They looked 100% better, but still thin and worn down. "Have some of this soup. Would you like tea, or coffee, or cocoa?"
I made myself tea along with their drinks and we sat around the table.
"Are you headed someplace around here that I can take you to?"
Both heads were down, slurping soup, and both shook no. Lisa looked at me with big, sad eyes. "A bad guy was after us and we used the last of our money to buy the bus ticket that would take us the farthest away from him we could get."
"So, you don't have a regular home, or a car, or any money. What about relatives?"
Another shrug. Monica said, "Not really. My folks are dead, and their relatives don't want anything to do with us. I had Lisa when I was in school, and they all shunned us."
Lisa spoke up, "Mister, we're pretty much just poor white trash. I'm too young to work, and mom got busted for possession when she was at college, so she can't get work with that on her record."
There was silence while they kept spooning soup. I finally said, "Well, I'm not sending you back out into the rain tonight. There's a spare room upstairs for you to use. I'm going out for a few minutes to get some supplies for dinner and you make yourselves comfortable."
As I drove away from the house, I thought to myself that if I was wrong about them, my house was about to be ripped off and they weren't going to be there when I got back.
I carried two grocery sacks into the kitchen and found Lisa where I left her but looking a lot warmer and healthier than when I left. She hopped down and helped me put away things.
"I got fixings for beef stew with vegetables. Does that sound ok?"
Lisa said, "Let me help cut things up, mom is fussing with the rest of our clothes in the laundry."
I got out the cutting board and stacked vegies in front of her. I ran a knife over the sharpener and handed it to her. "You know about sharp knives?"
"Yup, mom gave me one to defend myself with. First thing I did was cut my thumb. Dumb!"
Monica came in with a pile of clothes from the dryer. "I hope it's ok that we did another load?"
"Yes, of course." I looked down at what seemed to be not much more than rags.
"I have an idea. After we put this stew together and set it to simmer, let's take a run down to the mall so the two of you can fix up your wardrobe a bit. These look a little road weary." I pointed to the pile on the table.
"Jeff, you can't do that. You don't know us. We'll be on our way in the morning."
Monica was talking bravely but her eyes were sad, and Lisa's were sadder.
I pulled Monica with me to Lisa's side and hugged both of them. "Hey, I don't have family and I want to help out. You can get practical things. Maybe some new jeans, a summer dress, fresh underwear..."
In fifteen minutes, the stew was in the oven and we were headed out the door. I'd gotten some cash from my office safe and figured I would send them off by themselves so I didn't embarrass them in the lingerie department.
We pulled into the mall and I parked. "I'm not much for women's shopping so I'm going to read my paper while you two get what you need. Here's some money, and I don't want you to come back with any of it. Understand? Do NOT bring any of it back!"
"And don't forget new sneakers and some dress up shoes, we might be going out to dinner some night."
They went off clutching the roll of bills I handed Monica, not daring to count it while I could see.
In an hour, two strangers approached the truck with shopping bags. I couldn't believe the transformation. They had even stopped at the cosmetics counter to get their hair and faces done.
Two smiling faces looked at me. "Do I know you two from somewhere?" I tried to keep a straight face.
Then they were climbing in and climbing on me and getting lipstick on me and laughing and giggling.
"Well, this is more like it. You sure have good taste in clothes. I can't believe the new you."
More kisses. More giggles. I nudged them into their seats and we made our way back to the Saturday night stew.
We sat around the kitchen table, with my guests helping themselves to seconds, and then, even thirds. I wondered how it felt to be that hungry and for a long time.
"Lisa, how old are you?"