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“What are ya having?” Max asked me.
“My usual.”
Max poured me a beer, sliding it across the bar.
“Start a tab for me.”
“You got it.” Max moved down the bar, helping other customers.
“Did you already tell everyone what you were thinking?” I asked her.
A smile curved over her lips. “Not yet. I was waiting for you.”
When someone brushed past me, I moved closer to Remi. She seemed to lean back into me, and I liked the warmth of her body a little too much.
“My old social worker retired, but they said a woman named Alisha is responsible for fundraising. When I talked to her, she said we could raise money for things the kids might need when they transition to a new home: book bags, school supplies, shoes, clothes, and even bedding.”
“Is that what you want to do?” I didn’t want the experience to bring up bad memories for her.
Her expression softened, and she said, “I’d like to help out. Thanks for suggesting it.”
“You sure you want people to know your background?” If she put something like this together, it might be in the papers. Her name would be associated with it. I was positive any journalist would ask why she was so passionate about the cause. It inevitably would come out.
She shrugged. “It’s a part of me. It’s who I am.”
“You’re more than just a foster kid.”
Remi shook her head. “I just meant that I’m grateful for the experience. It made me who I am today.”
“It sure did.” She was intelligent. Strong. A beautiful person.
Max braced his hands on the bar across from us. “Remi, what have you got for us today?”
Our small group quieted, turning to face us, looking at Remi expectantly.
She straightened, her face filling with excitement. I watched transfixed while she told them the same thing she’d told me over the phone. I liked being the first one she called, the one she turned to.
Turning slightly, she placed a hand on my chest, palm flat over my now-racing heart. “Colton, here, gave me the idea to use the event to raise money for foster kids. You know, since I was one.”
Max gave me a look I couldn’t decipher.
Remi was forthcoming with her past, so I suspected most of her friends already knew about her background.
“My sister and I were lucky to be adopted by an amazing couple. But we had a few years where we bounced back and forth from my bio parents to foster care.”
“So, you know what they need?” Max asked.
“I was pretty young when I went into the system, so I spoke to one of the social workers, and she gave me a list.”
“Well, I think it’s a great idea. We’d all love to help,” Zoe said, looking around at each of our faces.
“Absolutely. Just tell us when and what you need,” Hailey said.
“I think we should make it a community picnic, a way to get everyone together for a day of fun. We bring our wares like we did for the Taste of Annapolis event, but we charge an entry fee to sample everything. One hundred percent of the entry cost goes to foster care, and we get volunteers to help with setup.”
“I love that idea. If everyone’s okay with that?” Zoe asked.
Everyone nodded, and a few said, “Absolutely.”
