First (Wrong) Impressions: A Modern Pride & Prejudice (10 page)

“Thirty? Pfft, seriously? I had a drunk driver a month ago who only got twelve.”

“No idea. Like I said, he’s just an acquaintance; I know him a little through work. Will you do it? I said I’d ask.”

“Has he asked anywhere else?”

“Yeah. No one wants to take on community service right now.”

Lizzy looked around her office. The grey concrete floor was scuffed and chipped, and the walls were a dingy grey, as opposed to the off-white they used to be. The bathrooms needed a major scrubbing and could use some painting. Plus, the donation sorting area could use some organizing.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But tell him I don’t tolerate three-hour lunches and I report time accurately. He checks out for fifteen minutes, I record it all.”

“I’ll tell him,” Denny said, with some relief.

“What’s his name?”

“George Wickham. Can he drop by the day after tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“And, Lizzy? Thanks, I owe you one.”

Lizzy hung up as Luke walked in. “Who was that?”

“Denny. A friend needs to finish off some community hours.”

Luke sat at his desk. “I thought you hated community hours.”

“I hate sorting donations more.”

“Very good point.” After a moment he added, “Melissa and I chose the pastor for the project.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Liam Collins. He’s an ordained minister with the United Church.”

That perked Lizzy up. They were bringing in a pastor to work with their clients for a month, to see if it was worth taking one on part-time. Part of the role would be to determine the spiritual needs of the community, and the United Church of Canada was quite liberal. If Lizzy were to go back to church, it would be one of her first picks. “What’s his inner city experience?”

“He’s been setting up a program in Vancouver, but they bought a new building that ended up with foundation problems. So while that’s being taken care of, he came back to Edmonton to visit his parents and heard about the pilot.”

“Oh, he’s from the city?”

“Apparently. And since he has a job on hold, he asked to do this for free.”

Lizzy sat up. “Free?”

Luke nodded, a faint smile on his face. “Free.”

“I like him already.”

“There is one small problem.”

“Which is?”

Luke grinned. “He’s gay.”

“You’re gay,” Lizzy said, making a face. “That isn’t a problem.”

“You don’t understand. He’s gay in the way that Lydia is hyper.”

“Oh, God. Seriously?”

Luke smirked. “He probably prances.”

Lizzy laughed. “Well, maybe the volunteers will see the Pastor title and let it be. When do we get to meet him?”

“Thursday.”

“That’s when my community service guy is coming by. Busy day!”

****

October 7

The months leading up to Christmas in the inner city were prime fundraising time. Donations increased, appeals began, and the rush was on. Since the biggest groups got the most—both stuff and funds—Lizzy got the trickle down, which wasn’t a bad thing; she didn’t have a lot of storage space.

Groups like The Seed had to rent sea containers to deal with the level of donation they received. So Manjinder and Sally would get in touch with Lizzy whenever they had too much, or had something they knew Lizzy needed. The agencies generally called Lizzy or Luke to let them know they were coming, though, so when Lizzy unlocked the front door and walked inside, she wasn’t expecting to see Luke standing next to several hundred pounds of sugar.

“Sugar?” Lizzy exclaimed. “We got sugar?”

“Anonymous donation,” Luke said, signing for the delivery.

“Does the invoice say where this came from?”

The driver ripped off the top copy and handed it to Lizzy. “Nope. I was given a shopping list today by my boss and asked to pick it up and drop it off.”

“Billed to Frances Price at a Calgary address,” said Lizzy. “Why would someone from Calgary donate sugar to us?”

The delivery guy gave her a big grin. “Early Christmas gift.”

Luke smiled. “Wait until you see the kitchen, Lizzy.”

“There’s more?”

The driver laughed. “Lots more. Good day.”

Lizzy stood on the main floor and stared at the fifty pound bags of sugar in stacks before her. Eight hundred pounds of sugar. Lord in heaven, she’d need to get some plastic storage bins, or she’d be overtaken by mice within a week.

Wow. Sugar.

Lizzy couldn’t remember the last time she had a major sugar donation. Her weekly sugar budget was only twenty dollars, and she heavily rationed it so that there was some every night. The addicts used a lot of it, especially when they were coming down. It wasn’t good for them, but neither was the meth, crack, and oxy that they smoked, injected and snorted into their bodies.

“Come on,” Luke said, grinning.

She followed him into the tiny kitchen. Boxes were stacked on the counters two and three high, and the entire floor was stacked hip-deep with boxes, except for a small path to the main floor.

“What is all this?”

“No idea.” His smile was wicked. “Shall we open our presents?”

Donation unpacking could be a scary task. Once, she’d got a donation of used teabags.

Used.

Tea.

Bags.

Seriously.

In the first box, Lizzy found tea bags, but they weren’t used. Dozens of cartons of individually-wrapped tea bags of all varieties. Strawberry vanilla, to mint, to green matcha, to morning black chai. There were plenty of the herbal remedy kind, too, for everything from an upset stomach to a head cold. Since she didn’t give out over-the-counter medicines, those would be useful.

“Coffee filters!” Luke exclaimed, and pushed the box of industrial-sized filters behind him. “Those’ll come in hand. Jesus have mercy.” Luke had opened the next box.

“What?” she asked.

“Nutella.”

“No way!”

She crawled over and looked inside the box. Jars upon jars of Nutella, peanut butter, and jam. “We can make sandwiches for the coffee bar!”

Lizzy’s heart started pounding with excitement when she opened the next box, filled with individual packets of salt and pepper, perfect for meal-time. Boxes upon boxes of plastic forks, knives, spoons, and bowls, instant individual packs of soup, first aid items, pregnancy tests, and condoms.

“Oh my god,” Luke exclaimed. “Lizzy!”

He held up a shiny, new coffee urn. The portable industrial kind that caterers use, which could withstand constant use. “There’s two.”

“One for tea and one for coffee,” Lizzy said. “Wow. How could this Frances Price know what we needed?”

“It’s on your blog.”

“Yeah, but no one buys everything on my list. Good Lord; she must have been at the breakfast.”

“That makes sense,” Luke said, unpacking a food processor. “Oh, this thing is just cool.”

The doorbell rang and Luke jumped up, while Lizzy stayed on the floor, stunned. Who would donate all this to her?

Several can openers, a new set of knives—good knives, the kind you see on TV—and… Oh God. Lizzy dumped the contents of a brown envelop on the floor. Gift cards poured out. All of them for $100 or $250 at the bulk grocery store she ordered her supplies from. Lizzy’s heart pounded in her chest and she struggled against tears. Thousands of dollars’ worth of groceries lay in the plastic pile on the floor. Maybe there really were guardian angels.

She heard male voices, so she stood up and brushed herself off in case the mysterious donor had arrived to claim credit. She wiped her eyes and tried to force a smile. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy; good Lord, she was over the moon. It was…overwhelming.

“Hey Lizzy!” Charles held a large takeout cup and a plastic box with a small cake. “Darcy told me the good news. Congratulations!” He looked around. “Whoa. What’s all this?”

“How did you know about it?”

Charles seemed confused. “I was referring to your new kitchen.”

“What!” Luke and Lizzy exclaimed.

“They haven’t called yet?” Darcy asked, appearing behind Charles.

“Who?”

Darcy winced. “You were supposed to be contacted already.”

“What are you talking about?” Lizzy demanded.

Charles grinned. “The committee! They voted and they’re giving you fifteen thousand for a new kitchen!”

Lizzy stared at him. “What?”

Her lower jaw began to tremble and her hands shook. She began to chant: Do not cry, do not cry.

“The committee sent out an email yesterday. They’re going to cover your kitchen reno.” Darcy cleared his throat.

“That’s why we brought cake!” Charles said, and thrust it into Lizzy’s hands. “Congrats! You got it!”

“I haven’t been down to my office yet.” Lizzy’s hands shook so much that she was in danger of losing the cake. She’d gotten the money? All of the money? And she did it herself? They were going to get a new kitchen?

Oh God, a new kitchen!

She looked at the gift certificates. She could use them for food while the reno was happening. She could buy sandwich stuff and cases of fresh bananas. She could buy milk and mustard and butter and she could make meals. She could have a new kitchen. And she wouldn’t need to shut down her hot meals because her stove and freezer and fridge were on life support. And… and…

“Lizzy, let me take that.” Luke took the cake from her. “You okay?” He had a laugh in his voice.

Lizzy swallowed against the tightness in her throat, plus all of her pride, and whispered, “Thank you,” to Darcy.

“I had nothing to do with it,” he said. “The committee voted.”

“New kitchen. New supplies. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Who cares?” Luke said, getting down plates. “It’s cake time!”

“Do you know who donated this?” Charles asked.

Lizzy passed him the invoice. “Someone named Frances Price.”

Charles made a strangled sound and coughed. He shot a look at Darcy, who patted him on the back. “Sorry, swallowed my gum.”

“Do either of you know who that is?” Luke asked.

A smile tugged on one side of Charles’s mouth. “Darcy, you know her?”

“Never heard of her,” Darcy said. He cleared his throat again. “I have a flight to catch. I only wanted to congratulate you, Lizzy. You really did impress everyone there.”

“Excluding you, of course.” But she said it with a smile and hoped there was laughter in her voice.

“You impressed me, too.” Then Darcy did something she didn’t expect. He held out his hand.

Out of reflex, she shook it. His hand was warm and his handshake firm. “You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Thank you.”

He looked at the donations, gave a little smile, and walked out. Lizzy watched him go.

Luke turned to Charles. “Want to help us unwrap our gifts?”

“I’d love to!”

And so the three settled down to unwrap what turned out to be over ten grand in useful, needed donations—which would grace the new kitchen perfectly.

A new kitchen!

Chapter 11

October 8

Thursday turned out to be a rather huge day.

It started with the merger announcement between The Faith and Calgary’s Lighthouse of Hope. Lizzy enjoyed The Faith’s independence, but even she had to admit that combining forces with another agency in the province was good business and an excellent use of limited resources. The Faith didn’t have an accountant on staff; Ed did their books and then they hired a firm to look after everything. The Lighthouse had someone on staff who could take over, thereby saving money and, incidentally, Ed’s sanity.

And because The Faith had three executives—Lizzy, Luke, and Melissa—they were able to offer more assistance and leadership to the Lighthouse, who only had an Executive Director and a bunch of part-timers and volunteers. Melissa would retain control over The Faith for the time being, too, which suited Lizzy just fine.

Then, Pastor Liam Collins pranced into The Faith promptly at eleven. Lizzy was only there to introduce herself and catch up on a pile of paperwork before George Wickham arrived. She hated coming in before noon, but had to catch a glimpse of this new pastor of theirs.

Pastor Liam seemed short for a man, but maybe that was because Lizzy had been around Luke, Darcy, and Charles and had grown used to craning her neck. He sported khakis, a black turtleneck, an Argyll-pattered sweater, and comfortable shoes. He had thick, black glasses that made Lizzy wonder if they were meant for fashion as opposed to function. His brown hair was cropped tight, but still stylish somehow.

“Luke, I am so very happy to meet you! And you, Melissa. Oh, and you must be Elizabeth,” he said by way of introduction and continued before anyone could reply, “I am absolutely thrilled with being able to work here for the next month. How God lays things out for us, so that His work can be achieved to the greatest advantage. When Catherine de Bourgh, my main patron for God’s Refuge in Vancouver, announced that we needed to close for two months to fix the foundations in the new building, I was devastated. How would I help the good and noble people that are in need of a hot meal and God’s love, I asked? Let’s also not forget the small things, such as paying my rent, which I assure you is not cheap in a city like Vancouver.”

He took a breath.

“But then! God and Catherine de Bourgh smiled upon me. The foundation would continue to pay my salary, even though I wasn’t working, allowing me the time to come home to visit my parents. Then, arriving here and discovering that you good people needed assistance! Oh, my blessings are great, indeed, are they not?”

“Indeed they are,” Melissa said, and Lizzy knew her well enough to know that she was teetering dangerously close to laughter, but she had a better poker face than most. Lizzy, for her part, had to look away, pretending to hear something in the kitchen. Luke remained silent, smirking.

Pastor Liam prattled on about his job in Vancouver and the fabulous work his organization was doing. He was very proud of both his position and his humility.

“I’ve been so fortunate to be the pastor of such a forward-thinking church. Just preaching was never what I really wanted to do, as I’ve always wanted to help. Get my hands dirty, you know?”