Page 16 of Everlasting Vows

I head over to the laundry truck and pile their clothes into a washer, then check out the donations. Rummaging through the piles of clothes, I find some I think will fit Hannah and Elijah and take them over to their bathroom. I hear giggles coming from inside, and I smile. Kids amaze me. Even in dire situations, they find joy in simple things that others take for granted.

Knocking on the door, I call out. “I’ve hooked a bag of clothes on the door handle for you guys.”

They call out, “Thank you,” and I move along to help someone else while monitoring the portable bathrooms. After some incidents early on, we’ve learned it’s important to keep watch to ensure everyone has a safe environment while they’re using the facilities.

I see them emerge from the bathroom a short while later, and I’m pleased to see the clothes I gathered for them fit well enough. I wander over to them. “You two look like a million bucks.”

“Mommy made sure I scrubbed everywhere,” Elijah announces as he scratches the back of his neck, the action reminding me of Murphy.

I chuckle. “Mommies are good at making sure our children are as clean as a whistle.” I turn my attention to his mom. “Your clothes are in the second washer from the left. The wash cycle should finish soon, and then you can move your clothes to an available dryer. You guys must be hungry. We have roast beef and gravy sub rolls.” I crouch lower and pretend to share a secret. “We also have pudding cups if you eat all of your dinner.” I wink at the little boy, and his eyes widen with excitement.

They both smile at me. “Sounds delicious. Thanks, Abbi.”

“No problem. Enjoy.”

I get busy ensuring everyone who wants a shower gets one. The evening flies by, and we’re close to packing things away for the night when I feel a tug on my hand. When I look down, I find Elijah’s smiling face looking up at me. “Bye, Abbi.”

“Oh, bye.” I crouch to his level. “It was so great to meet you, Elijah.”

“You, too.” He flings his little arms around my neck, and my eyes burn with tears. “Thanks, Abbi.”

I tap the end of his nose. “You’re welcome. Take care.”

I stand again, worry for the pair becoming too much. “Do you guys have somewhere safe to go tonight?”

Hannah shifts on her feet. “Yeah, I, uh, found a place that seems like it will be okay. We’ve been lucky with the shelter most nights, but we missed out today because we lost track of time at the park.” She smiles down at her son, and I can’t imagine how difficult it is to feel you’re not giving your child the world. She hitches the backpack higher up her shoulder. “Thanks for your kindness tonight.”

“You’re welcome. You’ll find this setup somewhere in the city every Friday night. Simon relies on word of mouth within the community to announce the location.” I lean in and hug her. “Please take care.”

She smiles softly, taking her son’s hand in hers. “We will.”

Remembering I have a blanket stashed under the serving table, I grab Hannah’s arm. “Hold on. I have something I’d like to give you.” I glance around, noting that only one bathroom is occupied at the moment. I quickly race over to the table and grab the blanket I crocheted and take it back to the pair. “Here, take this.” I hold it out, but Hannah takes a step back, shaking her head.

“It’s gorgeous, but we can’t take it. It’ll get ruined.”

“Please. I make them to give away when I come down to help. It’s only medium size, but it’ll be warm.” I smile at them. “Maybe you’ll think of me when you use it,” I say hopefully.

“Mommy, can we have it?” Elijah looks up at me. “It has Mommy’s fav’rite colors.”

Hannah reaches forward timidly, looking at me with gratitude. “Thank you so much. We’ll definitely think of you when we snuggle beneath it. Won’t we, Elijah?”

“Sure will.”

“I don’t know what to say. You’ve been so kind and generous.”

I hug her again. “You don’t need to say anything. I wish I could do more.”

“You’ve done so much for us tonight.” She squeezes me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Take care of yourselves. Okay?”

“We will. Bye, Abbi.”

I step back and wave. “Bye.”

They turn around and walk away, chatting with each other. I wrap my arms around my middle, guilt sitting like lead in my stomach. I want to chase after them and take them home. Give them somewhere safe to sleep tonight, maybe longer. We have room, but Simon scolded me in the early days for offering my home to strangers. He said volunteering had to be enough, and if I couldn’t leave it at that, I shouldn’t volunteer at all.

Someone moves beside me, wrapping their arm around my shoulder, and I turn to find Simon and smile up at him.