“This is it,” she said softly. “You can go now. Thank you.”
“Let me walk you in.”
“You don't have to.”
But he did.
Walking up to the counter, a shabby, scarred linoleum stretch on top of three tall filing cabinets, he found a happy person in their early twenties staring back.
“Hey. You two need beds?”
“Just one. Single room for Louise here,” Mike said as Louise peeled her money out.
The person, whose name tag said Ju, looked down. “Cats allowed only in singles. You know that, Louise.”
“The man said a single!” She waved her cash. “I got enough for a night. Me and Tabasco are living it up tonight.”
As Ju turned toward a clipboard, Mike asked, “What's the longest someone can rent a single room here?”
“Sixty days. Mostly international students do that. You get a discount.” Ju pointed to a blackboard on the wall. “Monthly instead of daily or weekly.”
The monthly rate was what Mike paid to garage his car at their complex.
Mike reached into his mesh pocket and pulled out his ID and credit card.
“Here,” he said pleasantly, shoving the credit card at Ju quickly. “I'm getting Louise a single for sixty days.”
Fingers dug into his forearm suddenly, Louise's dirty hand clutching him. Fingernails coated in grime told him it had been much longer than he thought since she had a decent place to stay.
“What're you doing?”
Ju pointed a pen at Louise. “No credits. He's paying for this room for you. And no sharing. It's just you and Tabasco.”
“SIXTY DAYS?” Louise thundered. Her free hand dropped Tabasco's leash and went to her heart. “I – I think I need a chair.”
Mike walked her carefully over to one. Tabasco jumped in her lap instantly.
“Get her some water,” he called out to Ju, who did as asked, rushing over with a small plastic cup that Louise drank from eagerly.
Panicked eyes filled with disbelief met his. “You mean it?”
“His card just went through, Louise,” Ju said softly. “He's not scamming you.” Perceptive, the young person – Mike couldn't tell if Ju was male or female – read the situation well.
“Listen, Louise,” he explained to her. “I have money.” Those words were hard to say, but he'd never been happier to say them than now. “And you need a break. As long as you stay here, I'm going to send someone to help you figure out your disability check.”
“Are you some rich guy in one of those television shows? Am I being filmed?” she asked. Ju looked around, eyes narrowed, suspicious.
“No. Just a guy running who saw a pretty girl and paused, and you overheard me say crazy and thought I meant you.”
“My mom always said I never did know how to keep my damned mouth shut. Finally paid off!” Louise stood, a little shaky. “Sorry about the dizziness. Happens sometimes.”
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked. Before he said a word, Ju disappeared, returning with a small bag of peanuts that Louise took gratefully.
“Tabasco's fine. I got him some food this morning, but...” Words ended as she downed the entire packet into her mouth, chomping with apparent relief.
Mike had no idea how he was going to help her with her disability check issue. Didn't know the first thing about homelessness, or street people social work or...
Well, anything.
But he knew a human in distress, and finally – finally – all the money Jill left him was helping someone other than him.
A glance at the clock over the desk made him realize he was late.
“Ju? Do you sell food here?” he asked.
“Yep. Nothing fancy. Cup of soups. Canned ones, too. We have a microwave and a can opener. You can buy bowls and spoons.”
“Let me give Louise – and Tabasco,” he added, much to the old woman's delight, “a credit on the account to spend as she needs it.” He named a number that made Louise's eyes bulge out.
“You – ” Finally, her tears came.
And Mike hugged her until he had to leave.
Because Dylan was waiting at home.
And Mike had to find someone to help Louise.
Chapter 16
Nothing about Mike's story surprised him except the cat.
“Tabasco? That's a cute name. Wonder why she picked it.”
“Do not make a bad joke about a hot cat right now,” Mike groused.
“A hot cat?” Dylan was confused. Then he got it.
“Ah,” he said, laughing. “Good to know you even think about pussy at all.”
A twisted frown was all he got.
When Mike had arrived, sweaty and cashless, the story he told made Dylan feel protective, too. So many people were suffering.
How could they possibly help?
Mike was proving one approach: one person at a time. If nothing else, at least Louise was off the streets and she and Tabasco the cat could have a safe couple of months.
“I'm sure the lawyer who helped with your ski resort paperwork could help. Or even the financial planner who handles our trust?”
“Our trust,” Mike murmured. “Geez. Who have we become?”
“Yeah. I know. I had to do a call at Stohlman Industries the other day. Corporate babysitting. Murphy made a comment about how we all have to earn our paycheck and I nearly swallowed my tongue.”
“And I'm not telling a soul that I'm buying the ski resort. Everyone there still thinks I'm just Mike the ski instructor and general, all-around fixer of problems.”
“Are we broken? Weird? Crazy?”
“Don't say crazy around Louise,” Mike said to himself, which didn't make sense to Dylan, but lately, lots of parts of life didn't make sense.
“Most people who come into a billion fucking dollars don't pretend they don't have it,” Dylan persisted. “Most people would share it with everyone they know, fix everyone's financial problems, and still have plenty left over.”
“I know. How's it going telling your parents?”
Dylan was in the middle of a sip of water when Mike asked the question. He began to choke.
Shaking his head, Mike whacked Dylan's back. “That's what I thought.”
Unable to speak for a bit, Dylan just let nature take its course, the water coughed up until he sounded raspy, but could speak again.
“Not sure how to tell Mom and Dad. But I will. Want to pay off their house, buy them new cars – you know.”
“Yeah. Can't do the same here.”
Dylan knew Mike's parents were very conservative, and had cut off contact years ago.
“You always have time. There's no urgency in doing something.”
“Feels like there is.”
“I know. That's the hard part. Murphy's wife was just diagnosed with breast cancer. I wanted to drop a pile of money on the guy and tell him to go home and take a leave of absence from work. Take care of his wife.”
“Yeah.”
“And I can, damn it! I could give the guy a hundred grand and still have plenty.”
“A hundred grand would change his life.”