Page 131 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
Chapter Sixty
Iris
Other than the call from Sam, my day goes well. After lunch, Elizabeth reviews the reports I created. “These are great. But I also need a breakdown by community and the number of households that require assistance. The goal is to help every child in need, so we have to understand exactly how much additional money we need to raise to make that happen.”
“Got it.”
“And can you go through the feedback and letters over there and organize them by our past projects? Make notes about anything that stands out as being an area of improvement or something inspiring that we can feature in our next campaign. We always need fresh stories to get donors to open their wallets.” She smiles ruefully.
It takes an hour to modify the reports like Elizabeth suggested and email them to her. That done, I go over the huge bundle of letters and surveys. Most are glowing with happy anecdotes, only a few pointing out minor things that could’ve been done better. I jot them down as I go for easy reference.
Then I get to the last envelope. The brown paper feels cheap and rough, like it was cut from a grocery bag. I open it. A couple of photos and a letter in loopy handwriting fall out. It’s from a mother, thanking the foundation and Elizabeth. Without a medical intervention the foundation arranged, her daughter would’ve lost an arm. The photos feature the little girl—before and after the procedure. In the before shot, her eyes are downcast with her shoulders drooping. After, she’s smiling shyly at the camera, a cute little dimple in her cheek.
Thank you for all that you do and God bless you. You’re an angel the Good Lord sent to answer my prayers, the mother wrote at the end of the letter. The sincerity and gratitude in every line stagger me.
I start sniffling. The world needs more happy endings for everyone. I’m so lucky to be working at a place that’s making a real difference and impact. Rhonda looks up from her desk and silently hands me a Kleenex, and I dab at my eyes.
“Sorry. I don’t normally cry,” I say.
“It’s okay. You never get used to reading those letters.”
“I don’t see how you could. Look at them. Look at what Elizabeth has done.”
“She helps everyone she can. Like a lot of us here. Like me.”
How? In her mid- or late thirties, Rhonda is incredibly capable and smart. I don’t know how someone so competent and intelligent could ever need help.
Apparently, my thoughts are transparent.
Rhonda adds, “Everyone needs help, Iris. Even me, because I wasn’t this together three years ago. I was living in shelters with my kid when I heard about the opening here. I was desperate but felt like it was hopeless. I had experience, but I’d been struggling to find work after I was let go. It was terrifying to realize I was competing with candidates who were younger—and not homeless—and could afford nice interview clothes. I had to borrow some from a local charity. When Elizabeth asked me why I wanted to work here, I told her I wanted to help give people a future because everyone needs a helping hand at least once in their life. I bawled like a baby when she said I was hired.” Her eyes grow misty, and she reaches for a Kleenex. “I couldn’t have been the best candidate based on what I saw of other people interviewing for the same position, and if it had been anyone but Elizabeth, I wouldn’t have gotten the job. But she decided to give me a chance, knowing I was a homeless single mom with a young kid. It wasn’t just a job she gave me. She gave me my dignity back…and a future for my daughter. Now I can raise her in a stable home, give her the growing-up experience all kids should have.” Rhonda dabs at her eyes, then sniffs. “She always says it’s all of us who make the foundation work, but she’s the heart.”
I’m speechless, experiencing the same sort of reverent awe as when I first saw the Sistine Chapel. I crane my neck and look at Elizabeth at her desk through the open door. What would it be like to make a difference in people’s lives? To be so certain of her place, to be loved and admired for the amazing work she does?
One step at a time, Iris. You can do it too. You’re doing it right now, helping her make a difference.
Five o’clock comes and Elizabeth bids us all farewell, even though she’s staying behind. “Are you sure?” I ask. “I can stay and help.”
“I’m fine. One of my brothers is coming to pick me up in half an hour for dinner.” She smiles. “You did very well today, Iris. I’m thrilled you’re here.”
“Thank you. I’m thrilled I’m here.” I can feel myself grinning.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early.”
I drive home, nearly vibrating with happiness. It’s so empowering to be acknowledged for good work. And the fact that I’m helping people. Even if I don’t find all my memories or meet the significant people from my past like the monk in Austria said, this job confirms that my decision to come home was the right one. I need to anchor myself and discover a purpose in life. I lived aimlessly for too long.
When I’m about to step inside the elevator in the penthouse building, Julie texts me. Your uncle is here to pack your bags. I let him in, but… You’re going to Tokyo?
My teeth grind together. Is Sam kidding? I put the phone back in my purse as the elevator doors close. Impatience and anger simmer in my gut as the car moves upward. Who the hell gave Sam the right to disrupt my life this way?
I march inside the penthouse, my spine stiff and shoulders pulled back. Biting her lip, Julie points at the stairs. “He’s up there. I’ve never seen him so upset,” she whispers. “If I’d known he was going to be so weird, I wouldn’t have let him in.”
“This is bullshit,” I say between my teeth.
She stares at me. She’s probably never heard me talk this way about Sam. “Are you all right?”
“I’m going to murder someone.”
