Love for the Holidays Box Set

And Good Will To All-8

At eight-thirty that evening, Mack arrived for his shift, carrying a warm casserole in a ceramic dish which he placed on the desk before me. I took in his attire. He wore the black beanie on his head, and one of my older pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved sweater underneath his old jacket. He was clean-shaven and appeared rested, for a change.

“What’s all this?” I asked, indicating the food.

He blushed and stammered, “I…I wanted to do something to say thank you, so I made you a meal. I thought you might be hungry.”

I was touched, and I could feel my heart melting even more toward him, in spite of myself. I needed to be careful. “Thanks, man. This smells great. Since when do you cook?” The only thing he could do when were kids was microwave popcorn.

“I learned over the years, kept it up until I became itinerant.”

Curiosity ate at me. I wanted to know more about his life the last twenty years—aside from being homeless—but it could wait.

“Huh.” I set my papers aside and removed the glass cover. The aromas wafting up were amazing. “God, this smells heavenly.”

His face reddened even more. “Thanks. Hope you like it.” Mack stood there fidgeting for a minute until he said, “I’m gonna get the rest of the stuff from the storage room and put it in my car to take to the house in the morning, if that’s okay.”

I thought about refunding his p*****t for the unit, but decided that might hurt his pride.

He looked down at his hands and added, “Oh, and I borrowed a pair of gloves I found at the bottom of your closet.”

I inspected them and saw they were the old gray pair I kept for emergency purposes. “No problem. Glad they’re being used. Now you go ahead, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

After giving a little wave, I watched him walk out the door into the fading sunlight. I used a thick paper plate and the serving spoon he’d also brought to dish out the casserole. Oh, man, it tasted so good! I had two helpings while working on the computer. By the time Mack returned, it was time for me to go home, and the dish was three-quarters empty.

“This was wonderful, thanks. Feel free to cook anytime you want to. I won’t complain.”

He gave me a shy smile.

“You hungry?” I asked, indicating the rest of the food.

“Oh, no. I ate before I left the house. That was all for you.”

“Well, then I’ll take it home and have the rest for breakfast.” I took the dish and spoon with me to the door. “Goodnight, Mack. Oh and hey, Jenna and her husband Jerome have a Christmas Eve party every year, and you’re invited. I can work until the party’s over, then you can come back here and relieve me, if you’d like to go. I think it would be good for you to reacquaint yourself with folks here, maybe meet some new people. Up to you, though.”

I caught the look he gave me. It was hard to decipher, but he seemed stunned that someone would consider him worthy of an invitation to…anything. Maybe all those years moving around and living out of his car had made him insular, since common human kindness appeared to be such a novelty in his world.

He swallowed. “Thanks.”

I nodded, and left it at that.

When I got home, I noticed the smell of a clean house. It wasn’t that I was a slob or anything, but I didn’t tidy the place as often as I should. It was spotless. Dishes and laundry were done, the furniture dusted, floor swept. Did he do all this before or after he slept? I’d have to thank him in the morning.

I took a shower and then got ready for bed. The house felt different to me, now that someone else was living here, breathing the same air. The new ‘Mack’ was intriguing. Maybe I would do what Jenna suggested and call Cecil to cover for me, and go to the party with Mack. The evening’s festivities would be a first—for both of us.