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“This is your fault,” I accused in a whisper-shout. “I’m not religious, Lleyton. In fact, I’m the complete opposite. Those people are going to fill our daughter’s head with bullshit about how I’m going to Hell for taking my clothes off for men.”
Katherine would never work as a stripper. She was tall and graceful and everything Lleyton’s parents expected in his partner. Everything I wasn’t, nor had any desire to ever be. His parents hated my guts, and I couldn’t help but think they might have somehow had a hand in this. They were God-loving, front-pew-on-Sunday sort of people too, even if their son wasn’t.
But Lleyton was right. I needed care for Amelia. If the church was the only place I was going to get it, then there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
“The minute she comes home and tells me I’m going to Hell; I’m burning the place down.”
Lleyton just shook his head, well used to my brand of crazy after four years of co-parenting. “I don’t even doubt it for a second.”
4
ZEPH
The homeless shelter kitchen had an aroma all of its own. It wasn’t just the vegetables, meats, and spices the cooks threw into big metal pots, getting meals ready for that night’s service. Or the thick slabs of toasted bread we slapped butter onto. It was the unwashed bodies of the people who came in. The smoggy pollution that wafted in after them from the main street. A couple of little dogs had been snuck in, their owner feeding them scraps from his own plate, adding to the chaos.
Liam and I both pretended not to see them, because I for one didn’t want to see a hungry dog any more than I wanted to see a hungry human. I went back to plunging a ladle into the soup and carefully pouring it into thick Styrofoam cups. Liam went back to handing out bowls and spoons.
“You want soup? Chicken or tomato?” I asked the next woman in line. “This is left over from last night, but if you keep shuffling down the line, Liam has breakfast cereals, juices, and milk if you prefer a more traditional breakfast at this time of day.”
“Soup please, sir.” She shifted a toddler on her hip who wriggled to get down. “Though we’re grateful for either. Just something warm would be lovely.” She reached out a spare hand to her slightly older child, who still couldn’t have been older than four, grabbing the back of his shirt before he could wander off. “Daniel. Stay close, you’ll get lost.”
Daniel let out a racking cough but stepped closer to his mother for the time being.
A baby in a stroller gave a squawk of impatience, twisting in his seat, clearly impatient to get out and join his older siblings.
The woman’s lower lip trembled slightly when she tried to smile at me. “Do you have any trays you could put them on? These three are kind of a handful.”
I finished pouring one cup but motioned to the tables behind her. “Why don’t you go sit? I can bring this over for you.”
“Are you sure? All these people are waiting…”
I nodded at her. “Go. I’m here to help. The soup is hot. It’ll be safer if I give it to you when the boys are all sitting. Nobody needs a trip to the ER for a burn this morning.”
She shifted the toddler on her hip back into position, and he wailed about not being let down to join his older brother. “Thank you.”
“We have some highchairs over there.” I pointed to the corner of the room, and she headed in that direction.
I watched her grab a highchair and drag it over to the nearest table as I finished pouring soup for her family. I added some slightly spotted bananas and wrapped a couple of cookies in a napkin before adding those too.
“Playing favorites?” Liam grinned at me. He had an apron tied over a starched business shirt and suit pants. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, but it was clear he was headed to his law firm straight after this. “Since when do we do table service and sneaky treats during the breakfast shift?”
He was only teasing though. He would have done it as well, even though the rules were that we didn’t leave the safety of the kitchen area. For insurance purposes, they liked us to keep our distance from those who came in off the streets.
“She needs a hand. You would have done the same.” I picked up the tray laden down with food and moved around him toward the locked door.
“Yeah, but I regularly get in trouble for breaking the rules.” He reached over and pushed down the door handle for me. “So, what’s one more, right?”
I gave him a nod, in acknowledgement for him holding the door for me, and carried my tray of food over to the woman and her family.
She glanced up at me gratefully when I approached. “I can’t thank you enough. I know it probably doesn’t seem like much to you, but I really needed someone to see me this morning.”
I placed the tray down carefully and handed her boys soup spoons as their mother gave them their meals.
The toddler, now sitting in a highchair, wolfed down the temperature-tested soup his mother handed him. He was messy and cute, with tomato-flavored liquid dribbling down his chin.
But the older boy, Daniel, poked at the chicken pieces floating in broth without taking a bite.
“You don’t like chicken?” I asked him.
