A Time To Give. Kathryn Shay

I’ve been taking lessons on and off all my life.”

      “Nice hobby.” He’d like to see her dance.

      “How about you? Got any hobbies?”

      He used to. He played racquetball with Trey, went running with his dog, liked a game of pool. “No, not really.”

      She scraped dishes. “Do you live alone, Ben?”

      “Um, yeah.” He took a plate from her hand. “You?”

      “It’s just me and my dog.”

      “You have a dog?” Harriet’s shaggy face came out of nowhere. He’d loved that animal so much.

      “A cocker spaniel.” Emily’s expression turned tender. “She’s a beauty. She likes to be coddled, so I call her My Lady. Lady for short.” She smiled. “Lady and the Tramp has always been my favorite story.”

      “Ah, I should have known you’d like happily-ever-afters.”

      She started to say something but a rush of people entered the kitchen, clattering dishes in front of her. Emily conversed with the guests who handed over their plates, then continued the conversation with Ben when things slowed down. “Why did you react when I told you about my dog?”

      “I had one once.” She’d been a stray mutt hanging out at the soup kitchen. Eventually, Ben had taken her home.

      “What happened to it?”

      “I gave her away when I wasn’t able to keep her.”

      “I’m sorry. That must have left a hole in your life.”

      He didn’t respond. He didn’t want to talk about his dog or think about anything else he’d lost. Luckily, things got busy again. In no time, the evening was over. Dishwashers were usually the last to finish, so the place emptied out quickly, leaving him and Emily alone in the kitchen. When the last plate was clean, he whipped off his apron. “I’ll go see if Alice needs help out there.”

      Just then the older woman bustled in. “No, we’re done. One of the stragglers stacked the chairs. But there’s a mess on the floor from a family with kids that the janitors aren’t gonna like.”

      “I’ll get a mop and take care of it.”

      “That would be great,” Alice said.

      Emily watched Ben’s back as he disappeared through the doorway.

      “Have fun tonight?” Alice asked.

      Chagrined, she felt herself blush. “I like working with him.”

      “I like him.” Alice sat on a stool. “I wonder what his story is.”

      “Me, too.” Emily crossed to the dessert cooler and removed chocolate cake for the two of them. “He seems so smart, so well spoken. He talks like an educated man. I can’t believe he needs to come here.”

      “I was thinking the same thing. His clothes are definitely Salvation Army, though.”

      “I wonder if he was always poor.”

      “Maybe not. A lot of people who use Cassidy Place were once better off. Ben has a job, but we don’t know how much it pays. Sometimes people just come for the company. Like that Helena who always flirts with Ben.”

      Helena, the tall, slender woman with mounds of streaked hair. No one had any idea where she came from. She did indeed make cow eyes at Ben.

      They ate their treat and discussed some of the other guests until Ben came back to the kitchen. He crossed to a janitor’s closet, rinsed out the mop and put the things away. “That’s done. I’ll be heading out.”

      Emily watched him. He’d taken off his long-sleeved denim shirt and wore only a black T-shirt. He had such nice shoulders. Great pecs. Flat abs. Paul used to spend hours at the gym and never looked as good.

      Alice kicked her under the table. Good thing, or she’d probably start drooling. “Time to close up.”

      Ben scanned the area. “Nobody’s here to walk you out?”

      Like most soup kitchens and shelters, Cassidy Place was in a location that could be dangerous after dark.

      “No, Jimmy usually does. If not, Tom.” Alice grabbed her purse. “No matter. We’ll be fine.”

      “I’ll see you to your cars.”

      Alice smile approvingly. They shut off lights and secured the doors, then went out the back and locked up. Alice’s car was closer—thank you, Lord. The older woman drove off as they headed toward Emily’s Taurus.

      The spring moonlit night was unseasonably warm, but the difference in temperature from the hot kitchen was enough to make Emily shiver.

      “Cold?” Ben asked as he shrugged into his denim shirt.

      “A bit. I have a sweater in the car.” When they reached it, she unlocked the door and grabbed her wrap off the front seat. He watched her as she got stuck putting it on, a button caught in her hair, some of which had come out of the braid. “Ouch,” she said, tugging to loosen it.

      “Here. I’ll get it.”

      She turned her back to him and he moved in close. His body heat felt wonderful.

      “It’s twisted up in here. I have to pull out the tie.” She felt a bit of pressure, then nothing. “There, I’ve got it.”

      Emily stilled. Time seemed to freeze. Then she felt her braid come undone completely. When Ben’s hands sifted through her hair, she felt the touch in the pit of her stomach, and lower.

      “Ben?” she whispered, her voice throaty.

      “Your hair’s grown since I last saw it down. The color’s so many different shades of red, like a sunset in St. Croix. It’s beautiful.”

      “Th-thank you.”

      He lifted her sweater so she could slide it on. Once she did, he squeezed her shoulders. That touch made her weak in the knees. She leaned back.

      Abruptly, he dropped his hands and stepped away. “Best you get in the car, Emily.”

      She turned to him. His face was awash with moonlight. His features weren’t softened by it, though. If anything they were harsher than usual. Without censoring her actions, she squeezed his arm. “You’re a nice man, Ben.”

      He retreated another step out of her reach. “Get in the car,” he said tightly.

      She angled her head, confused by his reaction, by the force of his words. “All right.” The parking lot was deserted. Traffic whizzed by on the street and a firetruck’s horn sounded far away. “How will you get home?”

      “I don’t live too far from here.”

      “Let me give you a ride.”

      “Hell, no.” His dark eyebrows furrowed. “You shouldn’t be offering rides to guests at a soup kitchen.”

      “You’re not just a guest, Ben. We’ve both known that for a long time.”

      His shoulders tensed and his hands fisted at his sides. “That’s all I am. Now get in the car.”

      She waited.

      “There’s danger here, Emily. Don’t think anything different.”

      She gave him a weak smile. “Not from you.” Opening the door, she slid in. “Thanks for helping out with the dishes,” she said as she fastened her seat belt. “Good night.”

      “Good night.” He shut the door.

      Emily started the car and drove off. “I lied, Ben,” she confessed into the dimness of the car as she turned onto St. Paul Street and caught sight of him standing where she’d left him, watching after her. “You are dangerous.”