touch by Melissa Haag Page A

every night.  So I’m
used to the prep, serve, and cleanup process.”
    “Leave the rest of those tables for me and come sit.”  She
set the sandwich on the table I just finished wiping down.  “This is for you. 
Let me know what you think.”
    She sat in the chair across from me, dumped the contents of
the tip jar on the table and started counting.  I sat and took a bite savoring
the delicious flavors.  She smiled at my expression.  While I ate, I watched
her count.
    “I have to admit this is more than usual.  Don’t get your
hopes up that it’ll be this much tomorrow.  Someone tossed in a five.”  She
handed me nineteen dollars and some change.  Half of the tip jar for less than
half of the work she did.
    I wanted to protest, but I needed the money.  I knew my
future.  I’d be alone raising kids in just a few short years.  Well, not
alone.  I’d have my mom just like my mom had Gran.  So, I nodded my thanks and
pocketed the money.  Then, I finished my sandwich.
    When I stepped outside, the wind buffeted me and I thought
again of getting a different coat.  In spite of the cold, I looked up at the
overcast sky hoping for snow.  A Christmas without snow just didn’t feel like
Christmas.  The money in my pocket called to me wistfully.  It’d be nice to
earn enough to buy everyone real presents, but we had a standing rule in our
house.  No purchased gifts.  Everything had to be homemade.
    Lost in thought, I didn’t hear someone calling my name at
first.  The second time it rang out, it registered, and I turned around.
    Parked a few feet behind me, I spotted Clavin’s car.  Clavin
himself opened the driver’s side door and struggled to get out.  He looked pale
and unhappy.  Limping toward me in his cast, he wordlessly handed me a note.
    Go to her.  She’s at the Coffee Shop.  She will help you
get the rest you need.
    I read it again.  Say, what?
    Looking up at Clavin, I really studied his face.  The sunken
dark flesh around his eyes, the hollowness of his cheeks, he didn’t look well. 
“Are you having problems sleeping?”
    “Since I last saw you, every time I close my eyes I see…” he
hesitated, closing his eyes briefly.  “Its eyes...”  He shoved his shoved his
hands in his pockets and ducked his trying to keep his ears warm.  He spoke
softly and I had to strain to hear his next words.  “Its horns…”
    So he dreamt of Morik.  But why would Morik send him to me? 
I thought he didn’t like Clavin.  My eyes flicked to his cast.  Wasn’t the idea
to prevent me from picking a boy so Morik would have a chance to spend with
me?  I looked at Clavin again.  Although I’d forgiven him, there was still no
way I would ever choose him.  Maybe Morik knew that.  But it didn’t explain why
he sent him to me.  Did Morik really care that Clavin wasn’t getting any
sleep?  Maybe he felt guilty for walking Clavin in front of a car.
    While I debated, Clavin started to shiver.
    “Fine,” I said with a sigh.  “Give me the keys and I’ll
drive us to my house.”  He handed them over willingly.  I hadn’t thought he
would.  “You really look like crap.”
    Taking pity on him, I helped him to the passenger door. 
“I’ll let you sleep at my house for a while, but I’m kicking you out in an
hour.  Got it?”
    He nodded his agreement, relief plain on his face.
    I parked in front of our house a few minutes later.  Listening
to Clavin’s hobble as he followed me to the door, I dreaded what Gran would
say.  Silence greeted me when I opened the door.  Danielle’s chair sat empty. 
A called out a hello as we removed our jackets, but no one answered.  A first. 
I wondered if they’d gone to visit the widower Gran had mentioned.
    A note sat on the table from Mom and Aunt Grace stating they
went shopping and would be home before dark.  I shook my head at the last
part.  Of course, they would.  She also added a note asking me to take a
picture of myself.