to forget them living in that big, empty mansion, making weekly stops at the food bank, and pretending like nothing had changed.
Poverty, like loneliness, leaves a mark, even now, when everything comes quick and easy for us.
“You shouldn’t give those people charity.” He takes another sip. “They’ll only resent you for it later.”
“Those people.” I huff before taking a hit of vodka. “What do you know about it, Ross Perot?”
“I know what I hear.”
My eyebrows quirk, but I’m not listening to his arguments against doing good. It’s the same logic that keeps any progress from being made, that keeps old grudges alive. “It’s the same as I do for my friends in Harristown.”
“They’re your people. They get it.”
“You’re too young to talk so old.”
“Why?” Blue eyes cut up to mine, and I see sincerity there. He really wants to know. “Why waste your valuable time helping people who don’t like you?”
I think about my answer. I have a clear memory of the Christmases I spent alone with only a maid to open presents with me. She said I reminded her of her son, who she lost after her divorce. Even when she smiled, her eyes were sad.
“I guess it’s for Erin.”
His chin jerks back with a frown. “Who’s Erin?”
Shifting uncomfortably, I confess something I’ve never told anyone. “Our last housekeeper.”
“What?”
“She got married right out of high school, never went to college.” I think about the fragments of her past I managed to uncover. “After her divorce, she couldn’t bounce back. She left after Dad died and Winnie moved in full-time. I never saw her again. I found out later she killed herself.”
“Jesus.” His lips press into a frown. He reaches out and grips my shoulder. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault. Life sucks. Some people can’t hack it.”
“Maybe…” My brow furrows. “Or maybe she just needed someone to care. Someone to point her in the right direction.”
He releases me, standing and fishing out his wallet. “Sounds like she needed more than that, my friend.”
“I don’t know.” I stand, reaching for my wallet, thinking about his words.
“Water under the bridge.”
My mind is far away as I remember searching for her years later, the devastation I felt when I found out she died alone, by her own hand. She’d been kind to me, and I wished I’d been able to help her. I felt so powerless. I hated it.
Now I have money and power, and dammit, I help them. It’s not charity, it’s taking a minute to care. Even small changes can make a big difference, and some people just need a road map. They need the tools we’ve been given since we were kids.
“So I’m headed to El Paso for a few weeks.” Rich’s hands are in the pockets of his jeans.
We’re out on the sidewalk, strolling toward the Foster building, a twenty-story high rise where I occupy the top floor. It’s almost eight, but the sky is light. Heat simmers from the concrete, and the nonstop wind flaps my blazer open.
It smells like dry air and brown brush and dirt.
It smells like Texas.
“Doesn’t your uncle still live out there?” I squint up at the sun winking past the high rises. I remember spending a weekend in the desert with Rich’s family when we were kids.
“Yeah, Skeeter’s in Sunset. Close to the river, view of the mountains.”
“Sounds nice. So you’ll stay with him?”
“I’ll probably crash there a few nights. His place is big enough so we won’t see each other. He doesn’t like to be around people.” We stop at his Tahoe, and he props an arm on the side. “What about Angel? Are you ever going to put a ring on it?”
My conversation with her last night is on my mind. “I’m ready, but she’s hesitant.”
He adjusts his cap, hazel eyes teasing. “She heard about that incident with the furries?”
“Idiot.” I shake my head.
“What’s the matter? Cold feet?”
“I don’t know. I’m meeting her family tomorrow.”
“Hey!” He holds up his fist for a bump. “That’s progress. Why didn’t you say so?”
“Your big mouth never gave me a chance.”
He makes a lunge like he might pull me into a head-lock, and I throw up an elbow, which he blocks. “Let me know how it goes.”
“I will.”
Our fake tussle turns into a bro-hug, and we say goodnight. I continue up the street, wrestling with my one-track mind. Pulling out my phone, I shoot her a text. A horse walks into a bar…
It doesn’t take a second for the gray bubble to appear with the