Chapter 31 Grant #2
She looks at me, and I can see her wanting to believe me but not quite able to let herself relax. “I just want this to go well. The shelter needs this.”
“It’s gonna be great. Better than great, because you made it happen.”
Before she can respond, the front doors open and people start to arrive.
First a few volunteers from the shelter, then some of the donors, and then I spot Margo walking in with Noah.
Reese arrives with Callie several minutes later, with Theo and Becca close behind.
Several more of our teammates filter in as well, and Sawyer gives me a nod from across the room, Violet on his arm.
Reese sidles up to me, nudging me with his shoulder. “Nice to see you outside the arena, Parker. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to walk in shoes that don’t have blades strapped to them.”
“Is that a clip-on tie?” I shoot back, earning a few laughs from the people gathered around us. Callie’s green eyes shine with mirth as she adjusts his tie playfully and plants a kiss on his lips.
More guests filter in, and the room starts to fill with the quiet buzz of conversation. Heather is in full hostess mode now, greeting people and thanking them for coming. I watch as she moves through the crowd, smiling and gracious as she makes everyone feel seen and welcome.
Margo appears next to me with two plastic cups in hand. “Sparkling grape juice? I keep telling myself it’s almost as tasty as the champagne.”
I take the cup and salute her with it. “We designated drivers and pregnant women have to stick together, I suppose.”
“That’s the spirit. And is that a new suit? Or does it just look ten times better outside the arena?”
“This is the first time I’ve worn it,” I confirm with a half-smile into my cup as I take a drink.
She looks me up and down appraisingly. “It’s nice. Custom tailored?”
I nod.
“And you’re here early? Helping with setup and contributing to society at large?” She gasps dramatically. “Are you feeling okay? Should I call a doctor?”
“Very funny.”
“I’m just saying, this is quite the transformation. You almost smiled a minute ago, and I thought I was going to spit out my grape juice.”
I shoot her a scowl, just to prove I still can, but it doesn’t last long. “It’s easy to be in a good mood when I’m supporting a good cause.”
“Well said,” she agrees, and there’s a slight softening in her tone. “And Heather really appreciates it. All of you guys showing up—it means a lot to her.”
“Showing up and writing a check is the easy part. She does the real work. The hard work, day in and day out.”
“She absolutely does.” Margo takes a sip and gives me a funny look from the corner of her eye, but doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds. “Try to keep her from stressing out too much if you talk to her before I do. I should go find Noah before he eats all the appetizers.”
She heads off into the crowd, and I go back to watching Heather work the room with that same focused energy she had during setup.
After about twenty minutes of mingling, I see Heather make her way to the front of the room where there’s a small podium and microphone set up. She taps it once, then twice, and the conversations around the room gradually quiet down.
“Good evening, everyone.” Her voice is clear, but I can hear the slight nervous tremble in her tone. “Thank you all so much for being here tonight. I want to tell you a little bit about why New Horizons matters, and why your support is so important.”
The room goes completely silent. Even April, who has been talking Theo’s ear off near the greenhouse windows, turns to watch her mom.
“Almost ten years ago, I found myself in a situation I never thought I’d be in.
” Her grip tightens on the sides of the podium, but her voice stays steady.
“I was a new mother, and I’d just left a relationship that had become unsafe.
I had no money, no family nearby, and nowhere to go.
More than once, my daughter and I spent the night in my car. ”
My chest tightens. I knew some of this from our conversations, but hearing her say it out loud to a room full of people—the vulnerability it takes to open up like this just hits differently.
“Thankfully, someone at the food bank told me about a shelter. New Horizons.” She pauses, and I can see her blinking back tears.
“They gave us a bed, a hot meal, and the kind of safety I hadn’t felt in way too long.
But more than that, they gave us resources.
They helped me find a job, secure housing, and start rebuilding our lives.
They gave us hope when I didn’t think we had any left. ”
Several people in the audience are wiping at their eyes now, including Margo.
“I’m standing here today because of the work this shelter does,” Heather continues, her voice stronger now.
“And I’m so proud to give back to an organization that saved my life and my daughter’s life.
But there are more women out there who need help.
More families who need safety and resources and hope.
That’s why we’re here tonight—to make sure New Horizons can continue this vital work. ”
The room erupts in applause. People are on their feet, and I’m clapping harder than I have in a long time. Pride and respect for this incredible, brave, resilient woman fill my chest until it almost hurts.
She meets my eyes across the room, and I can still see so much emotion there. I give her a small nod, hoping she understands what I’m trying to convey.
You did good. I’m proud of you. You’re amazing.
She smiles, just a little, then turns back to the crowd as the applause dies down.
“Now, I know that was heavy, so I thought we’d do something fun,” she says, clasping her hands together and smiling even wider, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“We’ve set up a karaoke machine in the corner, and I’d love for some of you to share your talents with us.
Who knows? Maybe we’ll discover Denver’s next great singer. ”
There’s polite laughter, but I can see people exchanging glances, and I can’t blame them for not wanting to be the first to volunteer. The silence stretches out, and Heather’s smile becomes a little more stiff and a little more desperate.
“Come on,” and there’s an edge of panic creeping into her voice now. “It doesn’t have to be good. It’s all in fun. Anyone?”
More silence. More uncomfortable glances.
I can see the exact moment she starts to spiral, wondering if this whole idea was a mistake, if the event is going to fall flat, if she’s failed somehow.
Fuck that.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I start walking toward the front of the room.
“I’ll do it.”
Every head in the room turns to look at me, and Heather’s eyes go wide with surprise.
Behind me, I hear Reese’s voice, loud and shocked. “No fucking way.”
“Language,” Noah hisses, no doubt thinking of the handful of kids in the room.
“Did Parker just volunteer to sing?” Theo asks, sounding just as shocked as Reese.
“I need to record this,” Sawyer mutters.
I ignore them all and walk up to the karaoke setup, taking the microphone from Heather’s hand. Our fingers brush for just a second, and she looks equal parts grateful and mortified—probably on my behalf.
But I give her a small nod and turn to the screen to pick a song.
I scroll through the options, looking for something upbeat. Something that will hopefully get people engaged. I finally land on something by Bruce Springsteen—I’ve heard it at enough sports bars to know the melody, even if I can’t recite a single lyric to save my life.
The music starts, and I bring the microphone up.
I’m not a good singer. That becomes immediately clear within the first few lines. In fact, I’m actually terrible. My timing is off, I’m missing half the words, and the noises coming out of my mouth aren’t anywhere near whatever key the song is supposed to be in.
But I’m committed now, and there’s nothing to do but follow through until the end.
I throw myself into the song like I’m not making a complete fool of myself in front of a room full of strangers and my teammates. I even add a few of my signature dance moves, which makes April giggle from across the room and gets a few more people smiling.
Somewhere around the chorus, a few brave souls in the crowd start singing along. They’re probably hoping to drown me out, but I’ll take it. By the second chorus, half the room has joined in, and people are swaying and clapping along with the beat.
It doesn’t matter that I’m butchering the song. What matters is that people are having fun and that Heather’s event isn’t falling flat.
When the song finally, mercifully ends, the room erupts in applause and laughter. I give an awkward sort of bow and immediately hand the microphone to the event coordinator before anyone can convince me to do an encore.
“That was amazing!” a middle-aged woman says as I pass her on my way back into the crowd. “So brave!”
I grunt noncommittally and keep moving.
But before I can get very far, someone else is already stepping up to take the microphone—a younger guy in a button-down who looks far more comfortable with the prospect of singing than I was. I’ve successfully broken the ice, and the karaoke portion is officially underway.
I catch Heather’s gaze from across the room. She’s still standing near the podium, and the look on her face is something I’ll remember for a long time. Gratitude, yes, and plenty of it. But also something deep and intense that makes my chest feel tight.
She mouths two words. “Thank you.”