Page 66 of Save the Drama for your Mama
I snorted. “You’re ridiculous.’
He laughed. “Maybe I am. Come on, let’s walk to the end of the pier.”
We passed a fisherman casting his reel out into the ocean, the bucket near his feet full of fish he’d already caught. Then there was a musician sitting on a stool, playing his acoustic guitar, his hat out for tips on the planks in front of him.
I offered to take a photo of a couple who were posing for a selfie, and while I was lining up the shot, I saw Cooper quickly pull out his wallet and drop a few bills into the hat of the musician, then slide the wallet back into his pocket.
I handed the camera back to the woman and gestured back to the musician as we continued to walk. “Why do you do that?”
Cooper followed my gaze. “Do what?”
“I noticed that when you give money away, you do it rather quickly so people don’t see you do it,” I said.
Cooper hesitated. “Soyoudon’t see.”
“Me?” I asked. “Why don’t you want me to see you do something nice?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want you to think I’m doing it because you’re watching, like I was doing it just to impress you.”
I blinked twice. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Why would you even think that?” I asked.
Cooper sighed and leaned against the rail, watching a couple of surfers waiting for waves. “I appeared at a charity event last year for literacy. They hoped some other authors and I would draw many people to the event, which it did. At the end, they brought up each author on stage, one at a time, to thank us for helping raise awareness of literacy. Being caught up in the moment of the event and all the money they raised for such a good cause, I spontaneously said that I would like to donate ten-thousand dollars to the cause. The organizers and the attendees were grateful, thanking me. But then an author, who I shall not name, came up to me afterwards and told me I was a horrible person for upstaging the other authors like that, and that the only reason I did that was to sell more books. Basically, he was saying it was a publicity stunt.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said.
Cooper shook his head. “Nope. I wish I were. I felt horrible, because that was the farthest thing from my mind, but then it got me wondering if other people had thought the same thing. When I give, I do it expecting nothing in return. I give from the heart. But what that guy said messed with my head. Now, I donate anonymously, or on the sly, as you saw.”
“Some people should not be let out of the house,” I said, rubbing the side of his arm. “Don’t listen to people like him. And for your information, the thought never crossed my mind. I admire people who donate their hard-earned money or time to help others. Being kind while others are watching is setting a good example, and that just might motivate them to do the same.”
“Yeah . . .” Cooper looked up and watched a plane fly by, pulling a banner that advertised a local restaurant.
“So . . . if you donated a million dollars to build a new library somewhere, you wouldn’t want the library named after you?” I asked.
Cooper thought about it, then grinned. “No, I’d have them put my mom’s name on it.”
I smiled. “That is the sweetest thing I have heard today.” I pulled the phone from my purse. “Okay, selfie time.” Cooper leaned closer until we were almost cheek-to-cheek, then I snapped the photo. “I think that is a keeper.”
“Share it with me,” he said. “And the photos of me and James, please.”
I shared them with Cooper, then we grabbed some coffee to go, and headed to the car.
On the drive back, we were both silent, listening to the music, enjoying the drive along the coast when Cooper’s phone rang.
Chad’s name flashed on the screen.
“I’m going to take this call, but don’t mention James,” Cooper said. “I think that’s something I should tell him in person.”
“You got it,” I said.
Cooper answered the call through his car system, so the sound came through the stereo speakers.
“Hey, Chad,” Cooper said.
“Super Cooper!” his brother said, which made me giggle. “We’re back from Cabo.”
