I know I’ve got her curiosity up. “Well, if you agree to meet me, I’ll tell you all about him.”
“He sure had everyone talking at graduation.”
“The man doesn’t do anything half-measured, that’s for sure.”
“Okay. I give. But only because I’m dying to hear all about him.”
“Great. Where should I meet you?”
“There’s a little pizzeria in five points. Pirello’s. Meet me there at 1p.m.”
I check the clock to make sure I have enough time to make it there. “Okay. 1 p.m. I’ll see you there. And Mary Elizabeth, thank you.”
I scramble to jump in the shower.
Several hours later, we sit outside at a table, the afternoon sun blocked by an umbrella. The waitress brings our order and sets the fire-cooked pizza between us.
After she withdraws, we each dig in, grabbing a slice. I moan around a bite. “This is so good.”
“So how are you doing?” Mary Elizabeth asks.
I tell her everything, about my mother wanting me taken care of so I wasn’t put under the control of social services, how Santos came into the picture, and how we ended up exchanging vows the afternoon after graduation rehearsal.
“Wait. You mean that guy who you crushed on all through middle school, the one whose father was your landscaper and his mother was your cook? That guy?”
“Mm hmm.”
“No way!”
“Crazy, right?”
“I mean, he was cute and all, but that guy at graduation in the suit jacket was hot.”
“It’s only a marriage on paper.”
“What does that mean? Aren’t you living together?”
“Yes, but we aren’t having sex or anything.”
“Don’t you want to?”
I shrug. “It’s not that. He just doesn’t want to get involved, so he doesn’t even want to go there.”
“Well, I guess that’s kind of respectful. At least he’s not stringing you along.”
I nod, and jab my straw into the ice in my cup, suddenly quiet.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“There’s something. Spill.”
“He’s prospecting for a motorcycle club called the Kings of Carnage.”
“You mean, like he wants to be a member?”
I nod.
“Oh, I see. And you don’t fit in his plans, huh? Well, consider yourself lucky. Who wants to be hooked up with a criminal?”
“He’s been good to me.”
“Have you lost your mind? He’s a biker. Did your mother know about that when she came up with this crazy idea?”
“I don’t think she knew he was trying to join an MC, besides, it’s only temporary.”
“And then what?” She takes a bite of her pizza.
“Then, I don’t know.”
She chews, studying me. “Someone’s always taken care of you.”
“And?”
“Now it’s time to grow up, Kami.”
“I’m aware.”
We finish eating in silence, then pay and walk along the little shops and boutiques.
“This is hard for you isn’t it? Not buying anything.”
I press my forehead to the glass, staring at the most fabulous pair of strappy heels I’ve ever seen. “It’s not fair.”
Mary Elizabeth rolls her eyes. I can see her reflection in the glass. “Come on. I think you need to see something.”
She leads me back to her car and drives me a couple of miles away. She pulls into a lot behind a large metal building that looks like a warehouse.
“Where are we?” I ask as we climb out. Before she can answer, I spot a sign by the entrance. East Side Food Bank. I look at her across the roof of the car. “What are we doing here?”
“You really want to make amends to me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then you’ll come and help me at the food bank.”
“You mean like volunteer?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“At first it was just something I did to put on my application for college last year. But now I go because so many people need help and so many of them are just children.”
I follow her inside, my gaze taking the place in. On one side are pallets of food. In the middle are workers making up boxes with assorted provisions on folding tables. On the other side are baby items like diapers and formula. A long line of people files past the tables, waiting for a box of food.
“Open your eyes, Kami. These people have no food.”
There are a lot of single women with little children in the line. I’m surprised at how many. I also see elderly people in line. My heart hurts to see the disheartened expression on their faces.
I overhear a woman with several small children talking with a worker who is helping her out to her car with a box.
“I never expected to be in this position. I work full time, but with day care and no child support, it’s just not enough.” She wipes tears from her cheeks. “I feel like such a failure having to take handouts.”
“That’s what we’re here for.” The worker gives her a sympathetic look and pats her shoulder.
I look back at the operation, they’re trying hard to get people through, but also taking a moment to talk to each one, I suppose so each person coming through the line feels like a human being and not just a nameless face they don’t care about. I see one worker take an elderly man’s hand in both of hers and pat it, talking to him.
“We try to individualize the box somewhat depending on if it’s for a single mom with several kids or if it’s an elderly person and so on. Each family has different needs.” Mary Elizabeth looks so assured in what she’s doing and its value.
I see her with different eyes. She has so much more depth to her character than I do. I feel selfish in comparison.
The realization washes over me that no matter how bad off I think I have it, there are always people in a more dire situation. I suddenly feel ashamed for having missed all the luxuries I’d been given all my life. When I see these children, knowing they don’t have enough food at home, I feel embarrassed for moping around thinking about all the material possessions I’ve lost.
Theses kids have lost so much more.
I feel like something in me has shifted, and it’ll never shift back. I feel different. I smile at Mary Elizabeth and take her hand, my eyes stinging with emotion. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For showing me this. For knocking some sense into me.”
“Sometimes we just need our eyes opened, and to realize it’s less about us and more about others.” She grins, and squeezes my hand. “Come on. You can help me fill boxes.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Saint—
“Do what?” I almost choke on the slug of beer I just downed. The things I get asked to do for the club sometimes get on my nerves, but I follow orders, especially when its connected to Leigh. Her father, Chaos, is our president, so when she bats her eyes at me and asks if I’ll pretty please give her best friend a ride home, I glance over to Ruin. Since he’s got his patch, he can also boss me around. He grins, knowing I don’t want to do this.