Rebound: Chapter 20

“Thank you, Sanjay.” I pass him a twenty-dollar tip and climb out of the car.

He pokes his head out of the window, glancing at the building behind me. “You be safe now, Mrs. James, won’t you? Call me when you need picking up.”

“I can get a ride home with one of the other volunteers, Sanjay. You go home and enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

He eyes me with suspicion. “You call me if you need me. Okay?”

I nod and wave him off before spinning on my heel and heading toward the entrance to the building, passing a few stragglers on my way. “Afternoon, Miss,” one of them says, his salt-and-pepper hair unkempt and his face drawn.

“Good afternoon, sir. Are you coming inside?” I jerk my head toward the double doors. “You have to get in early for a good seat. I hear all the best pie is gone by four.”

His smile makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and the kindness in his expression makes me wonder about his story. So many people here have heartbreaking stories, and they make me truly thankful for the privileged life I lead. “I’ve never been here before. A bit nervous, I guess.”

I open the door. “You’ll love it here. Everyone is super friendly.” I gesture for him to go inside, but he holds the door for me and insists on ladies first.

“Amber!” Andréa says as soon as she spots me. “Ricky is in the kitchen. He could use some help with the mashed potatoes.”

I give her a quick salute and show our new visitor to a table before heading to the kitchen. I’m not a great cook by any stretch, but I can mash potatoes.

I’ve known Ricky and Andréa Hernandez for ten years now. We met during a fundraiser I organized. They’re both veterans who are heavily involved in their local community. I became a patron of their charity, and during my first year, they suggested I volunteer on Thanksgiving so I could experience firsthand the kind of good they were doing. At the time, it seemed a hell of a lot better than being with Elijah’s family or spending the day on my own like I usually did. I’ve spent every Thanksgiving since volunteering here.

So when Elijah asked me if I had plans today, I told him I had my usual plans with friends. He didn’t push—he never does—and I suspect he was relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to want to make plans with me.

“Hey there.” Ricky greets me with a smile and an apron in his hand. “Potatoes are waiting for you.” He jerks his head toward the pot on the stove.

“Wouldn’t be Thanksgiving unless I mashed the potatoes.” Grinning, I slip on my apron and pull my cap over my hair.

“It would not, Miss Amber.” He heads back to the counter and continues rolling out the pastry dough.

We chat for a while about everything and nothing, and it’s nice to have a slice of normalcy, a conversation that doesn’t involve divorce or Elijah and his family or anything to do with my other life. I get to be an entirely different person here, and that’s a big part of why I love it so much. Soon, Andréa joins us along with a couple other volunteers, and between us we prepare a Thanksgiving feast that will feed at least two hundred people today.

When it’s time to serve, I plaster on a huge smile and dish out food to the various people who came out today, from individuals to families who have no place else to go and don’t have the resources to feed themselves or their children. It’s heartbreaking and truly humbling, and every year I make a bigger donation to the charity.

Despite their circumstances, most of the people here are still filled with hope and the promise of a better tomorrow. And as well as tears, there’s always laughter too. I listen to as many stories as I can and provide a willing ear, a soothing word, or an appropriate dose of humor. It makes a difference when people know that someone’s listening. That someone cares.

Today, as I serve food and wipe tables and mop the floors, it hits me that I have the privilege to make choices that will make me happy, and I am more determined than ever to do something with my life that will make a positive difference in the lives of others.