Page 60 of Feeding Hope
“Okay, good.”
As soon as some of the volunteers inside saw them wheel in the first pallet of supplies, more people came out to help unload and some stayed inside the massive warehouse-like space to place things on the shelves.
When they got down to the bottom layer of food and boxes, Wayne had to put a gentle restraining hand on George’s arm. “I got this, boss.”
“Boss?”
George started laughing. “You’re calling me boss?”
Wayne climbed up into the bed of the truck and reached for one of the trays of water from the back of the bed. “It’s the truth. You and Maybell are the bosses here in more ways than one.”
“Well,” George reached up and took hold of the tray, “if anyone’s the boss around here, it’s Maybell.”
One of the college kids who was volunteering tried to hide a smile.
George smiled at the idea, the love for his wife evident on his face. “Did you know that we met here?”
Wayne paused halfway to the back of the bed, a tray of water bottles in his hands. “Really?”
George reached up for the tray, but one of the college kids got to it first.
Wayne noticed that everyone tried to keep George and Maybell from lifting anything that might put a strain on their bodies. He saw George take a handkerchief out of his back jeans pocket and wiped his forehead with it while Wayne moved to pick up another tray.
“We were both going through tough times back then.”
One of the volunteers came to grab the next tray and Wayne felt into an easy rhythm as they cleared the rest of the donations from the back of the Gladiator truck while they listened to George.
“My brother had just died and I wasn’t coping well. I was barely eating as I’d just lost my apartment and my latest job. People were trying to tell me that I had to pull myself together and get my life back on track, but I wasn’t listening.
“If someone gave me money, my first instinct was buying a cheap bottle of something from the liquor store. I didn’t want to be clearheaded. It hurt too much to think.”
Wayne handed the last water bottle tray to the volunteers and sat down on the open tailgate.
George leaned against the back of the truck as he continued to talk. “Maybell was everything I wasn’t. She had goals. She had dreams. She was looking forward with hope. I don’t remember how I got here. I can only guess that I stumbled down the drive,” he gestured over at the single car width drive that let people in and out of the delivery area, “and passed out by the door. I came to with Maybell standing over me.”
“Your guardian angel?” Wayne had the image in his heart of Maybell reaching out to help George up and onto his feet.
The smile on George’s face only grew as he shook his head. “She told me to get up on my damn feet and help her open the trash bin.”
Startled, Wayne took out his own handkerchief and wiped at his neck. “Huh.”
George nodded. “She was more of a Valkyrie than an angel.” He lowered his hand to his side. “She was magnificent.”
They both turned when they saw someone step out of the doorway.
Maybell walked in their direction. “I hear someone is telling stories about me.”
Wayne threw George under the bus, gesturing at him. “He was telling me how you two met.”
“What exactly?” She had a dubious sound in her voice as if she was expecting him to embellish the tale.
George held out his arm and Maybell stepped into his half-embrace, leaning her cheek against his chest. “I told him the first thing you ever told me.”
Her curious look turned to a wistful one. “I had a feeling that if I was gentle with him, he might curl up and ignore me.”
“Ignore you?” George shook his head. “Hardly.”
Maybell lifted her hand and put it over his heart. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too pushy.”
