Twelve
Saylor
Every piece of clothing had been washed and hung up on a rack, according to size and gender. The children’s clothing was in the right corner, where I intended to get some colorful artwork to brighten the area up. Maybe even add some toys and books to keep them entertained while their parents looked for what they needed.
The adult clothing took up the entire left side. There were more women’s clothing than men’s. A very meager amount of coats and jackets. That was something I needed to work on this summer to prepare for next winter. I had made a note in the back of my binder to focus on that once I had everything else completed.
“What all did you toss? There were more shoes than you have piled up over there,” Sister Mena said, standing behind me with her arms crossed over her chest.
I hadn’t gotten to organizing the shoes just yet. That was on today’s agenda once I put the shoe racks together I’d ordered off Amazon. They’d come in a million pieces, but I was good at following directions.
“I only threw away the shoes that had holes or were so worn that they were falling apart.”
Calm down, Mena. You know it looks good in here. I saw your eyes widen when you walked in this morning before you could put that unimpressed scowl on your face.
“If you had ever been without shoes, you would know that to have soles on your feet is a blessing. What you might find to be garbage, there are those who would be happy to have them.”
Oh, how I did not miss your condescending tone, Mena.
“Yes, well, seeing as how most of them had cobwebs or dry rot, it seems they weren’t being snatched up. No one was going to take the shoes I got rid of.”
“Someone will dig them right out of the trash and wear them. You wait and see.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I leveled my gaze on her. Done with this complaining and bitching. “Well, this isn’t a dumpster. It’s a clothes closet with free clothes provided by the church for those in need. It shouldn’t resemble a dumpster or give items meant for a dumpster to anyone. That would tell those who are in need of help clothing their families and themselves that we think so little of them that we expect them to take trash and be happy about it.”
Mena opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. For a moment, I thought I had her. I’d finally said something to shut her up.
“I couldn’t agree with that statement more.”
Father Jude’s voice sent a small tingle down my spine. I turned around to find him smiling approvingly as he surveyed the place. At least someone liked it.
“This looks amazing,” he said, turning to look back at me. “Your thirteen- and fourteen-hour days have paid off.”
He’d been paying attention to how long I stayed.
No, before you go getting any ideas, Saylor, he is the priest. He pays attention to everything happening under the church’s authority.
But, Lord, he was beautiful. I mentally shook myself and landed a hard slap on my right cheek.
Stop it. He’s married to God.
“I have a lot more to do, but it does feel good, seeing it come together already.” I told him.
He started to say more when his eyes swung over to the windows, and I held my breath as he studied them. I had hoped this would go unnoticed. Seemed Father Jude was observant. Which I appreciated, but wished perhaps he could not see everything.
“Did you clean the windows? They look new,” he said, still staring at them. “I don’t think I ever realized the tinting before. Huh,” he added before looking back at me.
Sister Mena’s attention was now on the windows. Great. She’d probably remember some tiny chip or crack that was now gone.
I’d already called and yelled at Gathe over the tinting. It wasn’t something that was obvious or that noticeable, but the previous windows had been basic. I had wanted him to keep it as normal as possible in appearance. But the supplier they used only had the tinted ones in this size premade. It would have taken weeks to make new ones, and Gathe had refused to wait weeks.
“They look new,” she said, walking over to look closely at them.
Walk away, Mena. Let that shit go.
I hated lying, but before Mena figured it out, I was going to have to use the excuse Gathe had given me if this happened.
“They were filthy, so I cleaned them. Then, I decided to add tint to help with the cooling this summer and lower the cost of the electric bills during those months.”
Father Jude’s expression made me feel even worse about the lie. He was impressed. Again. By something I hadn’t done.
“You tinted them?” Mena asked, sounding as if she was about to call bullshit on my bullshit.
I nodded. “Yes. I went online and watched some YouTube videos, then bought the tint. It’s a thin film that sticks right on.”
Gathe had better be sure about this. I should have Googled it to make sure.
“Hmph,” Mena said, then thankfully walked back over to the counter, where she had been going through some paperwork.
“That’s smart, and again, wow,” Father Jude said.
Those green eyes of his flashed something so brief, yet it made my heart stutter a bit, and the place between my legs decided to remind me of its existence. As if I needed reminding.
The bell above the door rang, breaking the spell he’d had me under. Quickly jerking my gaze off his, I looked to see who it was, finding an older woman with a humped back. She wore mismatched slippers and a ratty cotton dress with a terry-cloth belt tied around her waist, which looked as if it had come from a bathrobe. She swung her eyes from Mena to me, then to Jude.
“Hello. Welcome,” Father Jude said as he walked over to the lady.
“Yer the priest then?” Her voice crackled from years of cigarette abuse. There were deep wrinkles around her lips as she frowned, scanning Jude from head to toe and back again.
I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. I knew exactly what she was thinking.
“And the Vat’ken thinks that’s a good idear?” She had to tilt her head back and shift her body to look him in the eye due to the severity of her curved back.
Jude chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, lucky for me, the Vatican doesn’t make that decision.”
She scrunched her nose. “I ain’t a Cath’lick. Reckon I don’t know the works of it.”
Jude held out his hand. “I’m Father Jude.”
The lady looked at his hand, and then her gaze swung over to me. She studied me, then grinned, showing several missing teeth. “I might not know lot of things about the Cath’licks, but I know that priests don’t have relations. No screwin’ for them. So, seein’ somethin’ as pretty as you makes me wonder ’bout that. Been in here many a time and not once met the priest.” She glanced at Sister Mena and sniffed. “But then it was always jest one of yous here.”
Jude cleared his throat, lowering his outstretched hand when it was clear she wasn’t going to shake it. “I hate that I missed you in the past. The church keeps me busy. How can we help you today?”
Good save, Father.
The woman’s cloudy eyes began to slowly scan the room. I stepped back to get out of her way so she could see everything. A low whistle between her teeth followed.
“This still the free clothes place?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jude replied.
She shuffled forward, her eyes darting around to all three of us as she did so. “Smells nice.” She continued farther inside.
“Each rack is organized by size,” I told her.
She swung her eyes to me. “That so?”
I nodded.
“What if’n I don’t know my size?”
I studied her for a moment. She’d be a small if it weren’t for her humped back. Maybe even an extra small.
“Why don’t you come with me to the ladies’ mediums?” I told her. “Are you looking for something specific? A dress, pants, shirts, all three?”
She walked beside me as I led her to the correct rack. “I could get all three?”
I nodded, not sure if there was a limit, but not caring. I’d pay for the extra if Mena had a fit. And if she tried to say something in front of this lady, I might possibly run and tackle her to the ground.
“It all clean?” she said, lifting her gnarled hand to touch a powder-blue maxi dress that had a bright yellow sunflower on the side of it. “That’s nice.”
I took the dress from the rack and held it up to her. The stretchy fabric would work perfectly over her back.
“Definitely your color. Matches your eyes,” I told her.
“All right then,” she replied. She looked through the other items before stopping at a skirt with tropical flowers covering it. “This my size?” she asked.
I took the skirt and showed it to her. “Sure is, and I know just the top to go with it,” I replied, going to pull out the sleeveless yellow knit top that I’d hung up yesterday. I turned to show her the two put together.
“That’s real pretty,” she said, studying the outfit.
“I think so too,” I agreed, draping it over the arm that held the dress. “What about shoes?” I asked, not sure if she preferred to wear slippers or not. The sole of one looked to be coming off.
“I know my size in those. It’s an eight,” she told me.
I wished I’d had the shoe racks done, but I did have the shoes in size order even if they were still in piles on the floor. Going over to the women’s, I found the eights and scanned them before picking up a pair of tan leather sandals that slid on, a pair of Birkenstocks, and a pair of navy-blue lace-up tennis shoes before turning to show them to her.
“Which style do you prefer?” I asked her.
She reached out and touched the Birkenstocks. “These look comfortable,” she said. “But they might not do well in the rain.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Remembering a pair that I’d cleaned up yesterday, I turned back around and put the tan sandals and tennis shoes back, holding on to the Birkenstocks, and grabbed yellow rainboots. Standing back up, I showed her both pairs. “Why don’t you take both? You can wear the boots when the weather is bad.”
She lifted her eyes to mine. “I can get both?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
Come at me, Mena. I will take you down.
The small smile that pulled at her weathered cheeks made my chest feel warm. My eyes stung, and I blinked the emotion away fast. There was no way I was gonna cry and ruin this for the woman. The last thing she wanted was me tearing up. She’d think it was pity and not realize that it wasn’t that at all.
“Well then, do you want me to bag this up for you?” I asked, glad the reusable tote bags I’d ordered had come in yesterday.
She nodded her head. “I reckon so.”
I wished we had panties and bras to offer her, but I hadn’t gotten to that yet. Next time. She would be back.
I went to get a bag from behind the counter, ignoring Mena’s eyes following my every move, then put the hangers in the empty laundry basket I had placed back there. I folded each piece carefully before putting them in the tote.
Handing it to her, I smiled. “I hope you enjoy your things.”
“Darlene,” she said.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Darlene,” I replied.
She nodded once and glanced around at Mena, then Jude, who had remained quiet while I helped her.
“Have a blessed day,” Mena told her.
“This is a nice place, Father,” she said. “I might’n come to church now I got somethin’ to wear. ’Specially if the one talking’s got a face like yers.”
Jude laughed. “My face is there to see Monday through Friday at seven a.m., Saturdays at five p.m., and Sundays at eight, ten thirty, and five. And the Lord doesn’t care what your clothes look like. He just wants you to come.”
She nodded, then turned and walked out the door with her bag tightly grasped in her arthritic hand.