“Bossy, are we?” She smirks as she cinches her pink coat across her waist.
“You like bossy?”
She licks her lips. “I like you.”
With that, she turns away and heads out the back door. Leaving my cock twitching and my hope soaring. I might just get the girl.MapleWhen I get back from the soup kitchen, it's after six o'clock. I had a heck of a time with Foodsellers, Inc., promising them I'd send payment as soon as I could, but it was a rough blow to learn that they weren't going to be delivering any more food. That meant me going back to my books and trying to see if I'd have enough cash to get us through the rest of the month.
I promised Foodsellers, Inc., that I'd have their payment come January. I’ll sell the house come hell or high water. Just as soon as Filson checks the boxes off the to-do list. Sounded like it wouldn't take him long and if we could get a buyer and by we, I mean if I could get a buyer, that might mean the house could sell even sooner than I anticipated.
Shame burns in my heart as I walk home, hating the state of my financial affairs, wishing I hadn't taken so much on and had come clean with the bank sooner. Asked for a loan, figured out something.
There are churches in town and organizations that help feed the homeless, but all of the money seems to be going beyond the reaches of Snowy Valley, and the truth is it's not just the homeless population that needs help and a little tender loving care. There are veterans and single parents, victims of domestic violence. and the families who are just a few months behind on rent They all could use extra assistance that the city doesn't offer.
My granny's mission was never to take on all the social justice issues in the town, but she did think if she put in a few long farm tables with a few benches in a low rent building and served soup to those who need it, that maybe, just maybe, someone wouldn't go hungry.
I don't know how Granny did it for so long, except she had a big, generous heart and always gave more than she had. Quite literally. She gave everything to run the soup kitchen and it is her legacy. It’s what propels me now to make the best of the situation.
Still, a little financial guidance could've gone a long way for my granny and for me too, and if I ever am in a position where I'm going to run my own business in the future, I am definitely going to get an accountant.
All of this is weighing heavily on my mind as I walk home. The sky is clear and there is no snow falling but the air is cold and brisk. I walk quickly wanting to get into the warmth of my own home. When I see the house on Jingle Bell Lane, I smile, taking a minute to remember how much I have to be grateful for because even if I'm going to say goodbye to this house at the end of the month, I still have so many memories here. And more memories are being made every day.
Filson stands out front on the steps, a big smile on his raggedy, handsome, bearded face. I've never seen him so happy and I wonder if in part that has to do with me. He calls out hello and I bound up the steps that are freshly peeled and washed.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me.
“Oh, stop,” I say laughing. “I look like I've been working all day.”
“I like it on you.”
“Well, thanks,” I say, finally accepting the compliment. “You look like you've been working all day too.” I look him up and down; work pants and a flannel shirt rolled to his elbows.
I want to stand on my tippy toes and run my hands through his beard. Pull him in for a kiss. But he said he wanted to take this slow and so I'll let him take the lead.
“So I realized,” he says, coughing into his hand. “That I wanted to take you out, but I didn't exactly plan for it. I didn't bring a change of clothes and I'm all dusty and greasy from working today.”
“That's okay,” I say. “We can figure something to eat here.” I bite my lip as something else dawns on me. “Or was this your way of getting out of the date?”
He shakes his head. “No, God no. Actually, I talked to your neighbor. Elsie?”
“Yeah,” I say skeptically. “What did you talk to her about?” She’s the gossip in town and I wonder what she'd be saying to Filson.
“She said there was a wreath-making class tonight down at the community center. Wreaths to give to the families who signed up for donations for their kids’ Christmas gifts. I thought maybe we could go?”