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“You don’t have credit card debt, which is great.”
“I don’t have a credit card.” She just looks at me.
“Right.” I return to her spreadsheet. “Can you put a little into savings each month? Maybe five percent of your paycheck?”
“Five percent!” Her eyes are round, and you’d think I’d suggested five million.
I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “It doesn’t have to be five percent. Even five dollars will build over time. Think of it like running a marathon—”
“I can barely cover my bills. I have to feed Chuy.” The little boy squirms in her lap.
“Right.” I tap my stylus a few times on the screen of my iPad Pro. “You might qualify for a grant…”
“No.” Her chin drops.
She doesn’t say more, and I drop it. The women here are either running from bad situations or hiding from them, and as much as I want to help, it’s not my business to push.
Still, every time I come here I wish I could do more. It’s frustrating, but it’s a start. I’m giving them the tools they need to have financial security one day. To stand on their own.
I hope.
Angel enters the cafeteria and warmth fills my stomach. She goes to Lourdes, who is bouncing a baby on her hip. The sunlight through the windows creates a halo around her head, and when she takes the fat infant from her best friend, I imagine her holding our baby. It’s a thought I like very much.
The woman across from me breaks, her eyes filling with tears, snapping me out of my daydream. “I’ll end up a maid like my mamma.”
“Juliana…” I reach out to touch her arm lightly. “Is it okay if I call you Juliana?”
Her brow furrows, and she seems confused. “It’s my name.”
The little boy in her lap arches his back and pushes. Juliana puts him on his feet, and he toddles off to where two other little boys are playing on the floor with a truck.
“You can do this.” Swiping several times, I head over to the government aid section of our website. Then I remember… “Could you start working tomorrow?”
Her thin brows furrow. “Maybe?”
“I just heard about an opening at a coffee shop nearby, La Frida Java. If you’re interested?”
The tension in her brow eases a notch. “A coffee shop?”
“A… friend of mine works there. I can ask her.” I hate calling Angel my friend.
She says it doesn’t matter if we’re a secret. It doesn’t change our feelings. But it matters to me, and I’m back to set the record straight.
“I’ll call Lourdes once I know for sure.”
I slide my tablet into the leather case, and Juliana stands quickly, reaching out to shake my hand. “Thank you, sir.”
“It’s Deacon.” I shake her slim hand. “We’re going to make this happen. Okay?”
She nods, wiping roughly at her eyes before turning to chase after her son. Putting my things in my black messenger bag, I start for where my angel is with her best friend.
“Hey, handsome.” Lourdes steps into a hug, pecking a friendly kiss on my cheek. “Did you put that big brain to work for Juliana?”
“Tried to.” I pat her back. “She wants to be a florist, but she really needs a steady job.”
“They all do.” Lourdes bounces the fat baby on her hip, and Angel slides up beside me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
My chest relaxes with her in my arms. “She’ll get there. I believe in her.”
