Page 81 of Fake it For Good
I found Mrs. Drummond and told her Cane’s plan. She was on board with it. Cane and I sorted the gifts with Mrs. Drummond popping in to help decide which kids got what. I did feel like Mrs. Claus. The kids had no idea what was coming. I knew they were going to be overjoyed. Poor Mrs. Drummond was going to have a hard time getting them to sleep tonight.
We got the kids situated in the playroom with Cane sitting on the floor with them.
“Are you sure you don’t want to do this?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Nope. I want to have the best seat in the house to see this.”
We started the process, calling out name after name. I was having a hard time staying focused on the kids. My eyes kept going to Cane. He was loving it. I was glad he got to see how happy this made the kids. It made me think I should put together a video to send out with the pictures of the kids receiving the donations. A picture was not really worth a thousand words. A ten-second video would be more effective.
After the toys were handed out and the kids were all busy doing their thing, Cane and I went to the kitchen with Mrs. Drummond. “Thank you both for coming today,” she said. “Cane, your incentive worked. This was our best toy drive by far. With your second donation, we’re going to have more than enough. I’m going to reach out to another home and see how they’re sitting.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” I said. “I’m so glad the kids are going to get the Christmas they deserve.”
We hugged and walked back to his car holding hands. “This was a good day,” he said.
“I agree.”
“Should we go by your place and get you a change of clothes?” he asked.
“Please,” I replied.
I kept my eyes on him, watching him and trying to make sense of it all. He was too good to be true. There had to be a fatal flaw. I just wondered what it was. After packing a quick bag, we headed back to his place.
“You’re being awful quiet,” I said.
“I want to ask you something, but I’m not sure if I have any business asking,” he said.
“That sounds very serious,” I said, laughing. He didn’t say anything, which made me nervous. “Cane, what is it?”
“Mrs. Drummond thought I knew you lived there,” he blurted out.
I sighed and looked out the window. “I did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I don’t usually go around telling people my story.”
“Am I just people?” he asked softly.
“No, but it’s just weird.”
“How is it weird?” he asked.
“When people find out about my history, they always get really weirded out,” I explained. “They feel pity. They feel awkward. It’s a conversation killer.”
“I wouldn’t feel awkward,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me, but you can. I’d like to know where you came from.”
I blew out a breath. “My parents were addicts,” I said. “I don’t remember much of my life with them. From what I have been told, CPS had been to the apartment a couple of times. Apparently, one night the cops were called out because my parents had gotten into a fight. The cop told my parents they weren’t fit. CPS was dragging their feet. The cop encouraged my mom to give me up. I guess they listened. The following day, they took me to a fire station. My parents were so high, they didn’t realize the program that allowed you to leave your kid was meant for babies. Anyway, they signed away their rights. I went into the system. I bounced around for a bit and ended up in Mrs. Drummond’s care.”
“How old were you?” he asked softly.
“Six.”
“Wow,” he said. “I don’t know what to say.”
“And that’s exactly why I don’t bring it up,” I said, laughing. “What can you say to that?”
“No, I mean, I have a lot to say, but I don’t know if any of it is appropriate.”
