Page 47 of Scrooge

“We are looking for Deloris. Have you seen her?” I ask, feeling hopeful, even though I can’t see her in the crowd.

“No. I haven’t seen Deloris around here for a few weeks. Last time I saw her, she walked in for lunch with a large bag of dildos… I had to confiscate them because she was trying to sell them to the others,” Sandra says, and I huff a laugh.

“Entrepreneurial…” Alex murmurs, knowing exactly where those items came from.

“Have you checked the shelter in Tribeca? They might have seen her. She likes that one,” she offers, and I bite the inside of my lip. I forgot about that one. It is her favorite.

“We might go there now,” I tell her, grateful that there are others attuned to the whereabouts of our city’s lifelong homeless personalities.

“Great. Well, come back later. I might need the help at dinner, if you’re up for it.”

“We will if we can.” If Deloris is found safe and well, then of course we can come back to assist.

“Who is that?” Alex asks me once Sandra leaves to break up an argument happening across the room over the turkey helpings. I look to where Alex is indicating, seeing an old friend, George, sitting quietly against the window, having his turkey meal.

“Oh, that’s George. He is a lifer like Deloris. Been around here for years,” I say, thinking of the man who is kind, considerate, and always helping others.

“I saw him in your house,” Alex says, and I frown.

“What do you mean?” I turn to him, feeling unsure.

“I mean, on a canvas. In one of your paintings,” he clarifies.

“Oh, yeah. George walked me home one night when a group of guys were following me from the train station. My dad brought him inside and made him some warm soup for dinner,” I tell him, smiling as I remember that event.

“Walked you home?” Alex questions, those eyebrows of his pinching together again with obvious concern.

“Life is not all driver Dans and penthouses, Alex,” I say with a shrug, understanding that he is more sheltered in his penthouse in the sky than I first realized.

“Can you introduce me?” Alex asks, and I pause, tilting my head up to look at him.

“To George?” I ask, needing clarification.

“Yes.” He nods firmly, and I am not sure what is going on, but he seems adamant, so I indulge him and we walk over.

“Hey, George. Happy Thanksgiving.”

George's face lights up when he sees me, mine probably doing the same.

“Ahhhh, Miss Haylee, I was hoping I would see you today,” he says, standing.

“Well, I am just popping in. This is my friend, Alex.” I introduce the two of them, and they couldn’t be further apart. Alex, young, fit, handsome. Clean-shaven, with an expensive, thick watch on his wrist and his shoes at a high shine, reminding me of what my nephew said at lunch. Then there is George, who is wearing a few layers, everything mismatched. He’s unshaven, hair a mess, and smiling with blackened teeth that show the hard times he’s been through.

“It is always a pleasure to meet a friend of Haylee’s,” George says, extending his hand. I hold my breath, sure that Alex is going to ignore it, but I am stunned into silence as I watch Alex take his hand and shake.

“Fiancé. Nice to meet you, George,” Alex says, and my eyebrows hit my hairline. I mean, I know he just proposed, but here, in the shelter, he doesn’t have to pretend. I am not sure anyone here would know who he was, and if they did, they probably wouldn’t care. But he stands proud, as his other hand slips around my middle, pulling me closer to him, and it feels nice. Almost like we are a united front. A team. There are no cameras, no one fancy to impress, just me and my shelter friends.

“Fiancé?” George asks, looking between us.

“Um, yes, Alex and I got engaged today,” I explain, smiling. Feeling a bubble of excitement as butterflies start to flutter around my stomach, I look up at Alex and catch him watching me, his facial features soft, his smile small.

“Well, congratulations!” George says, beaming.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Alex says to George, and we both look at him, confused.

“Thank me?” George asks curiously.

“Haylee was just telling me that you helped her out one night, walking her home. That is an admirable thing to do. So I wanted to say thank you for taking care of her when she needed it,” Alex says, and George still looks confused for a beat before his face morphs into a look that is pure admiration.

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