She nodded. “Good assumption.”
They bought canned meats, canned veggies, various kinds of boxed pasta, fresh meats, cheese, eggs, and milk. She saw yogurt with fun cartoons on the packages and bought a couple of packs of that. By the time they got up to the cash register, she had a full cart.
Ken followed her to the address. She recognized the neighborhood and the rundown apartment building. Only people with an income below a certain low threshold could live here. Ken grabbed two bags of groceries while she led the way to the apartment door. A little boy with a runny nose wearing a torn T-shirt answered her knock.
“Hi. Is your mom here?”
“Who is it?” The voice came from somewhere beyond the door.
She recognized Sasha’s voice and said, “Sasha, it’s Daisy Ruiz from Gálatas Seis.”
Immediately the door opened, and a young woman in a fast-food uniform answered. “Daisy, thank you. You saved us. And the electricity, I didn’t even ask for that.”
Daisy gestured toward Ken. “We have some groceries, too. Do you mind if we bring them in?”
Tears filled Sasha’s eyes and streamed down her face. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
She took the offered bags of groceries from Ken. He left to get more, and she stepped inside. “Sasha, I don’t do this to be repaid. Help someone one day when you can.”
The children danced around the groceries, exclaiming every time one of them pulled something exciting out of a bag. She wondered how many children in middle-class America got excited over groceries. Every child had bitten into a piece of fruit before Ken even finished bringing all the groceries in.
“Sasha, it’s not a requirement to receive help from us. But, if you would like to attend, I do a monthly budgeting class. We can look at your total income and what you need for output and help you determine how you can keep up with everything.” She put her card on the worn kitchen table. “Like I said, no pressure.”
“Ain’t no one ever wanted to help us before. Seems like I have to scratch and beg for everything.” As she and Ken started to make their way out of the apartment, Sasha said, “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” Daisy watched the power and beauty of the storm of emotions raging behind Ken’s eyes. She knew he wanted to whisk Sasha and her kids away and put them in a bigger, nicer home. She didn’t need to tell him that Atlanta had thousands of Sashas, and they could only help as much as they could.
On the way down the stairs to the parking lot, he stopped her. “Thanks for calling me,” he said gruffly.
She didn’t understand why God had allowed someone as incredible as him into her fractured life. She stepped into his kiss and hugged him tightly to her. His body felt hot and strong, like warm metal. But his lips, oh, his lips, and his kiss made her entire body hum and vibrate. She thought if she could just keep kissing him, she might not even need to sleep, or eat, or breathe. All she needed was his kiss.
Kenlifted the box springs and carried it from the building and out onto the trailer, setting it up against the side. The heat inside the trailer closed over him. As he walked back out, he took a deep breath of the fresh air and spied Jon as he got out of his truck. “Thought you were in New York.”
Jon clicked the lock on his truck key fob and followed Ken into the apartment. Brad stood on a step ladder, unplugging the cords for the television.
“Got back about thirty minutes ago.”
Ken nodded. “Good trip?”
Jon opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Surprisingly so.” He turned his attention to Brad. “Need a hand?”
Ken left them attending to the television and went into the bedroom and grabbed his mattress. His buddy at the bank had come through with a brand-new home project that had closed down when the contractor failed funding. He didn’t know anything about it, but that didn’t bother him. He bought it as soon as he saw pictures of the foundation and standing framed out structure. Whatever the status, he could finish construction.
He carried the mattress out to the trailer and set it up against the box springs, then secured them both with nylon rope. Sweat poured down his face, and he used his shoulder to swipe at it. On his way out of the trailer, he grabbed the hand truck. Back in the room he’d used as a bedroom, he secured his dresser to the hand truck using bungee cords.
Soon, they had everything out of the building. They filled holes in the walls, painted the wall where the television had hung, and pulled up the old carpet.
“When’s the floor guy coming?” Brad asked.
Ken picked up one end of the carpet, and Brad picked up the other. “Tomorrow. Eight.”
They tossed the roll of carpet into the dumpster and went back into the building. Jon had removed the sink countertop that held the stovetop and worked at pulling out the cabinet. Brad grabbed a chisel and started pulling up the linoleum.
Ken looked all around. Any evidence that he’d used this area as a living space for the last two years had completely disappeared. He’d refurbished the bathroom yesterday, removing the shower and upgrading the sinks and toilets. Now, the big empty room stood ready for desks and partitions for an apartment building office.
“I think that’s it.”
“We did good work here,” Brad said. “Now it’s time to get us moved.”
