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She allowed the vexing notion to remain only temporarily, however, as she easily lost herself in the enthusiasm and excitement of the game. Laughter and screeches of “bingo” filled the hall throughout the evening. Spirits were high and contagious and more than once, Laura watched with amusement as faces grew with anticipation and exhilaration to win one of the many prizes. Most consisted of baking and crafts the teenagers had spent many hours working on, but it was the thrill and joy of winning which brought the glee to the individual faces.
Around nine o’clock Adell and her O'Reilly crew served the buffet provided by Sunny Meadows Food Market. They each helped, bringing forth from the kitchen bowl after bowl, platter after platter. There was an abundance of salads and meat trays as well as rich saturating desserts. Laura couldn't have been more surprised. When Adell had said she intended to provide the buffet, she pictured something small and minimal.
Taking leave of her position at the front table, she went and searched out the woman's arm. “Adell, it looks lovely. You shouldn't have gone to the trouble. It must have cost a fortune.”
“No trouble, dear.” Adell grinned, obviously pleased with Laura's approval. “Besides, its tax deductible as Dexter made sure we retained all receipts.”
Laura's smile faltered momentarily at the mention of his name. It always seemed affiliated with money.
The older woman noticed the brief shadow cross the younger girl's face and hastened to add, “Nothing's too good for our favorite charity.”
“Believe me, it is a good cause,” Laura added.
“No need to sell me, Laura. Save it for my son.” Then she smiled, and turned to help dish out some salad.
Now there was a hard sell. No matter what she said or did, Dexter could not see past dollars and cents to see faces and lives. It seemed he preferred to remain immune to any human attachment associated with his business transactions. Was it this character distinction which allowed him to remain cold and hard? Had years of continually putting the face of the dollar before the face of the client, made him the man he was?
“Excuse me, are you Laura Witherow?” A touch on her arm drew her attention away from her thoughts.
She turned and noticed a handsome man about the age of thirty with thick dark hair, dressed rather formerly for a bingo game. He pushed a set of glasses up the bridge of his nose, and offered her an uncertain smile.
“Yes?”
“My name is Daniel Keller. I own a computer engineering firm and wanted to offer a charity donation to the center.” He clumsily withdrew a black rectangular pocket book from the inside of a breast pocket. “I was sent here tonight by—”
The pocket book fell out of his hands as he ineptly searched for a pen inside the same pocket.
They both went to pick up the book, realized the other had the same intentions, retracted, then attempted to retrieve the book once more. Laura laughed, while Daniel Keller mumbled an apology and swiftly grabbed the booklet off the floor before they repeated the same little dance once again.
Grinning awkwardly, he said, “A case of the trajectory of the essence of mirror neurons.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Mirror neurons,” he repeated, gesturing between the two of them. “The arbitrary non-verbal behavior of human interpretations—”
She looked at him in confusion, completely loss on his train of thought. He noticed her blank look and abruptly stopped talking.
“You’ll have to excuse me, I’m afraid I’m not very scientifically intellect.” She smiled, glad to see her words eased some of the embarrassment out of his expression. “But I hope that doesn’t deter your interest in the shelter?”
He actually grinned, and stood slightly taller. “Of course not. Don’t mind me, I have an inapt case of blubbering useless information around pretty girls.”
His eyes rounded, realizing he’d spoken his thoughts out loud. She grinned. “Then I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He returned her grin smiling at her subconsciously beneath his thick glasses. Removing his pen from his breast pocket with success this time, he poised it over the open book and asked, “To whom do I make the check out to?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to sound like I was expecting a donation!”
He eased even more and laughed outright. “I’m happy to oblige.”
Laura mumbled her thanks, embarrassed at her lack of following his conversation, but nevertheless took a liking to the man immediately. His smile was friendly and his personality almost came off shy-like, which was unusual but oddly very attractive.
She spelled her name for him and watched as he scribbled an amount on the check. Her jaw dropped, stunned at the large figure, her hand shaking even as she reached out and accepted it. “That's very generous of you.”
He smiled but shifted his eyes, avoiding eye contact. “My address is on the check, if you wouldn’t mind sending the receipt there.”
“Yes, of course.” Still in a state of shock at the dollar amount, she quickly collected herself and said, “Thank you, thank you very much.”
“Good night, then.” He tipped his head in farewell, then was gone.
