Page 46 of Scrooge

“One of.”

Her eyebrows rise at that, and I open the door and let her glide in. A car collection is another thing I have but rarely use. Today, I drove my black G-Wagon, thinking it would be the most appropriate choice for the suburbs. I look at my team still sitting in their car behind mine, watching us intently, having not been briefed on any such movement.

“Let me just tell the team what we are doing,” I say and close her door, keeping her warm in the car as I walk back to tell the team behind me of our plans.

Looks like we are going on an excursion to find Deloris. Through the back streets of Jersey.

20

HAYLEE

Itwist the ring on my finger over and over, stress starting to take over.

“So where to?” Alex asks as he gets into the car, turning on the engine.

“There is a shelter a few blocks away, so we’ll start there,” I tell him, passing along directions as we start to drive.

“Here,” he says, pushing a few buttons, and my butt warms instantly from the heated seat.

“Ohhh…” I say on a sigh as some tension melts away. “Are you okay?” I ask him. What just happened was a lot for a man who might as well live in solitary confinement and has a dislike for spending any amount of money on others.

“I think so,” he says quickly, glancing at me before looking back to the road. “How do you feel?” he asks, and I take in a breath.

“Terrible for lying to my parents. Scared that I can’t find Deloris…” I start, and his hand leaves the steering wheel and grips my hand on my lap, squeezing it tight.

“Don’t worry. We will find her.” His optimism gives me some comfort.

“Just pull up here,” I say, seeing the shelter ahead, a small line of people snaking outside.

“What are they doing outside?” he asks, turning off the engine.

“Lining up for lunch,” I say with a frown, because it’s obvious.

“Lining up?” His eyebrows shoot to his hairline in complete surprise. He really is out of touch with how others struggle. That’s about to change.

“Let’s go in,” I say, grabbing the door, and Alex jumps out quickly, meeting me at my door and helping me out. Who said chivalry is dead.

“Where do we go?” he asks as he takes my hand in his and walks beside me, looking at everyone and everything with what seems like brand-new vision.

“Let’s go inside and find a staff member.” Pulling him along, past the line of people, I offer a comforting smile to them. Some nod, others ignore me, the usual response.

“Why do they have to line up?” he asks as we weave between a few people. I see the staff office up ahead.

“Because there are too many people and not enough space,” I say, seeing the familiar staff member up ahead.

“Hey, Haylee.” Sandra is a woman in her sixties who has worked here for years, her smile welcoming.

“Hi, Sandra, how is it going today?” I ask as she eyes Alex, who is standing beside me, looking over us both at the large room behind us filled with tables and set up like a cafeteria. It’s no surprise, he is not exactly dressed for the occasion, wearing a black turtleneck over gray slacks. He looks great, better than great, and I smile proudly, looking at him and knowing that he is mine. At least temporarily. But it isn’t the usual shelter attire. Along with his tall stature, perfect hair, smooth skin, and straight white teeth, he is an odd sight to everyone here.

“The usual. A lot more people this year, though,” she tells me.

“What’s the increase?” I ask, interested as I look around, seeing more familiar faces.

“I estimate about twenty-five percent,” she says, and I take in a deep breath.

“Twenty-five percent?” Alex asks, instantly frowning.

“Up from Thanksgiving last year,” Sandra confirms, and Alex’s brow furrows even more.

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