Page 20 of Stranded in A Small Town Christmas
Snickerdoodles are a great way to lift the spirits, so I walk back to the sidewalk and start making my way in the direction Natalie had pointed. I take my time, stopping at booths and displays along the way.
I come to a folding card table that has a framed photo of a woman and a little girl next to a big glass fishbowl that’s filling up with coins and crumpled bills.
“Hello, stranger and happy holidays,” the older woman in a bright purple coat behind the table says. “We’re raising money to buy a van for Mandy Reynolds and her little girl, Amelia.”
I look at the big plywood sign she points to and note the goal number at the top. One hundred thousand dollars. The red paint tracking their progress rises to the twenty-eight thousand mark, which is pretty impressive for small town fundraising.
One hundred thousand dollars.
The final piece of the puzzle that is Natalie clicks into place. The amazing and loving woman I’ve gotten to know hadn’t seen a mercenary opportunity to fleece me out of a hundred grand. She’d seen an opportunity to get a van for Amelia from a man who won’t miss the money, rather than watching her community scrape it together over what would probably take years.
“Amelia has spina bifida, and it’s getting hard for Mandy to lift her into her minivan. It would be cheaper to refit hers than to buy a whole new van, but that van’s been on its last legs for at least two years now. It’s a miracle it’s still running, so it would be just her luck that she’d get it all set up with an expensive wheelchair lift and it would die on her.”
“There are grants and foundations that can help.”
“Sure. Erin, over at the library, helped Mandy apply for a bunch, but we can’t sit around waiting to see if she gets any help. We’ll keep raising money and if a grant comes through, we’ll put the money we raise toward her medical bills. Mandy was struggling even before her no-good husband took off. It was all too much for him, he said.”
I don’t say anything for a few seconds. I’m too busy swallowing the rage I feel toward a man I’ve never met so I can open my mouth without a string of expletives erupting.
Once I’m in control again, I look at the photo of the little girl. “I don’t have my checkbook with me. Can you write down a name and address where I can send a donation?”
“Sure can.” The woman digs around in her purse until she finds a pen and a receipt to write on the back of. “She has an account at the bank just for the fundraising because the news did a story and it’s the safest way for direct donations. And there’s a GoFundMe, so I’ll write that info down for you, too.”
“I appreciate it. And I’ll definitely be sending a donation as soon as I can arrange it.”
“Thank you. And Merry Christmas.”
I figure out how to use the flip-phone to take a photo of the information she wrote on the receipt before tucking it into my pocket. Then I turn around and walk back the way we came.
Chapter Thirteen
Natalie
* * *
“The hundred thousand dollars is for Amelia’s van, isn’t it?”
I spin, almost dropping the last box of the Christmas popcorn I’d been sent to fetch. I didn’t hear him come in. “Don’t scare people holding food for the Christmas fair, Donovan. And yes, it is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug, not sure I can make him understand. “Does it really matter?”
“I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to reconcile the woman who wanted a hundred grand to help a stranger during the holidays with…you. You’re all about family, friends, and community, and I don’t think you have a mercenary bone in your body. So maybe it doesn’t really matter, but I’d like to know.”
“I thought you were saying whatever you had to so I’d give you a ride, but then you’d blow me off.” I set the bag on the counter since we’ll probably be here a few minutes. “And that would have sucked, but also been expected. But if I told you about Mandy and Amelia—and why I wanted that amount—and you blew me off, it would feel more personal, maybe. I’d be angry and hate you, and I like to avoid negativity whenever I can.”
“And you didn’t tell anybody else about the money. Is that also because you thought I’d blow you off?”
“Yes. I would have been disappointed and angry, but if they thought Mandy was getting her van and then didn’t, they would have been heartbroken. I never want that, but especially not at Christmastime.”
He’s been moving toward me as I speak, and now he’s close enough so I have to tip my head back slightly to look him in the eye.
“Do you still think that?” His voice is low and his gaze locks on my face, as if he’s sure he’ll be able to tell if I’m lying. “Do you still think I’ll blow you off?”
“No.” Relief relaxes his features, which makes it easier for me to talk. “You’re not the only one who’s let go of first impressions.”
“So I’m not an airport jerk?”
