Endless Chain by Emilie Richards

thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for enough good people to do nothing.”
    “Amnesty International,” he said, as she silently read the words. “Once I join enough organizations and buy enough T-shirts, I won’t have to give sermons.”
    For a moment she didn’t know what to say, but his warm smile—all too rare when last she’d seen him—made him more approachable. “I like it.” She stepped away from the door and motioned him inside. “Please come in.”
    “I don’t want to bother you. I just thought—”
    “No, please come in and meet my roommate and her children.”
    As he stepped inside, she saw the trailer through his eyes. It seemed more cramped, dilapidated, even more crowded with furniture Adoncia thought she could not afford to throw away. The last occupants had knocked a hole in the paneling, which Adoncia had covered with festive strips of adhesive-backed paper. The curtains had been intended for different sized windows and pinned to fit, since Adoncia had no sewing machine.
    Elisa made the introductions and explanations, and Sam gravely examined Maria’s hand, despite the fact that it was now sticky with melting ice cream.
    “You were obviously a very brave girl,” he said.
    She thrust out her cone, to give him a friendly lick.
    Adoncia blocked the thrust. “Father Kinkade will not want a bite,” she told Maria.
    “Just call me Sam,” he said.
    Another knock sounded, and this time Adoncia went to answer it. Diego stepped inside, sweeping Adoncia close for a kiss. He was medium height, with a wide-shouldered square body and muscular arms. His round face was brightened by a shy smile, and his short black hair stood out from his head like burrs on a chestnut.
    He released Adoncia and grabbed Fernando, who had run straight for him. He lifted the little boy off his feet, tossing him in the air to the sound of frantic giggles. Rapid-fire Spanish ensued.
    “I should go,” Sam said. He looked uncomfortable. Elisa wondered what made him feel most out of place. The obvious poverty here? The crowded room? The people who were now chattering eagerly in a language he did not understand?
    “I’ll introduce you to Diego first.” She waited for a break and made the introduction. The two men shook hands; then Sam said goodbye to everyone and started for the door.
    Elisa went with him, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind her. Outside, where it was a little quieter, she let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
    “You must have come for a reason,” she said. “Your Sundays are busy. You must have finished with church only a short time ago.”
    “I wanted to talk to you, but I should have called first. I was just heading back from the nursing home and thought I might find you here.”
    “Nursing home?”
    “I went after church to check your references. I’ve been too busy to do it before.”
    “We can talk right here if you’d like.” Happy shrieks from inside drowned out the last word.
    “Have you had lunch?” he asked.
    “No, but we ate a late breakfast.”
    “Do you have time to get some coffee, then?”
    “Plenty of time.”
    “I can wait if you need to do anything first.”
    “I’ll just tell Adoncia. I won’t be a moment.”
    “They seem very happy together. Already a family.”
    Elisa thought he sounded wistful, and that surprised her. She thought of the struggles Adoncia and Diego faced, and Sam’s words surprised her even more.
    “I’ll be right back,” she said.
    He nodded and started toward a mud-splattered SUV parked just in front.
     
    Elisa had expected coffee at Arby’s or McDonald’s on West Reservoir Road, where nearly all Woodstock’s fast food restaurants congregated. Instead, they started back toward the church in Toms Brook.
    “I can’t think of any place where we won’t be constantly interrupted except my house.” He glanced at her. “Do you mind? The choir is practicing for a concert, and there are at