1990
The girl sat alone at the table in the corner, the one next to the bathroom that was usually empty. She wore a grey wool hat pulled down over her ears. Her long, blonde hair fell in a tangled mess past her shoulders. She was maybe nineteen and rail-thin. Her hands shook when she lifted the cup.
“Should I ask her to leave?” Sarah asked. She eyed the girl sideways.
Marnie fixed her apron around her ample hips. “No. Let her sit a bit longer,”
It had been the same every morning for the past week. The girl came in about five minutes after the coffee shop opened. She ordered a small coffee, her head bowed, her shoulders hunched, and rooted around in her bag for the two dollars and fifty-four cents that it cost. She sat at the corner table for about an hour. She always used the washroom before she left.
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked. “The other customers don’t seem happy that she’s there.” Marnie knew that already. They grimaced when they saw the girl and avoided her table. She had overhead their grumbling whispers: ‘that homeless girl in the corner’; ‘she’s probably high’; ‘what’s someone like her doing here?’.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Ok-aa-yy,” Sarah said. Her perfect black ponytail swayed as she strolled away.
Marnie grabbed a napkin, took a cookie from the glass case and went over to the girl’s table. “Hi there.”
The girl glanced up. She shifted in her chair. “Ok, I’ll leave,” she said. Her voice was quiet.
“No, I don’t want you to leave. I came over here to give you this.” She laid the cookie and napkin on the table. The girl looked from the cookie to Marnie and back. Her hunger was evident in the way her gaze lingered on the cookie.
“I can’t pay for it.”
Marnie smiled. “No charge.” She turned and walked back to the counter.
Sarah stared. “Why did you do that?” she asked, low enough so the customers would not hear her.
“The girl looked hungry.” She washed her hands and set a new pot of coffee to brew, moving with efficiency.
The girl came every day for the next week. And every day, Marnie brought her over a cookie. Exactly fourteen days after she had first laid eyes on the girl, when she brought over the cookie, she asked, “Is it ok if I sit with you?”
The girl nodded. Sitting across the table from the girl, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Lori.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marnie.” Lori nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you from around here?” Lori shook her head. “Me either. I moved here when I was just a bit older than you. That was…” Marnie paused and tapped her fingers on her chin, “about thirty years ago now.” Lori said nothing, just stared at her, arms still crossed. “You know, I was a lot like you back then.” Lori remained silent. “I’d just left home, and I ended up here, all alone.” She stood. “I’ve got to get back to work. Go ahead and eat your cookie.” She gestured to the cookie on the table. Lori nodded, broke a piece off the cookie, and put it in her mouth.
Lori continued to come into the coffee shop every morning, and every morning, Marnie would sit with her. They got to know each other bit by bit. She told Lori about her life, how her husband had died ten years ago, and since they hadn’t had any children, she had lived alone since then. She learned that Lori’s mother had kicked her out when she turned nineteen, saying it was time for her to fend for herself.
“It doesn’t matter. Anywhere is better than there.” Lori’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears and secrets. “So, I came here. I thought I’d be able to find a job in the city.” She paused to take a bite of her cookie. “I ended up sleeping at the homeless shelter a couple of blocks away. Turns out nobody wants to hire a homeless person.”
The next morning, Marnie said, “I have an idea. What would you think about working here?” Lori’s mouth moved, but no words came out. “There’s an apartment upstairs. It’s tiny, only a bachelor. But it’s empty right now. I can rent it to you, if you want.”
“I don’t have any money.” Lori dropped her gaze to the table. Her voice was a whisper.
“I can take the rent out of your pay. You won’t have a lot of money left. But enough for groceries at least.”
To the dismay of Marnie’s other employees, Lori moved into the apartment and started work the following day. From the very beginning, she was a model employee and tenant.
2002
“Are you ok? You don’t look well.” Lori looked drawn and paler than normal.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m ok.” Lori smiled and pressed a hand to her stomach.
Marnie gasped. “Are you…?”
Lori grinned and reached out her hands for Marnie’s. “Yes! Phil and I found out yesterday. I wanted you to be the first to know.”
Marnie smiled through her tears. “Oh, sweetie, that’s wonderful. You and Phil will be amazing parents! I’m so happy for you.” They had been trying to get pregnant since they got married a year ago, with no luck, until now. She’d started to worry as month after month passed and Lori grew sadder.
“Thank you.” Lori beamed. “And we want you to be godmother!” Marnie was stuck for words, an unusual occurrence for her. Lori continued, “You’ve been there for me since I first met you in the coffee shop. You’re more of a mother to me than my own mother ever was. You’re my best friend!”
“I would be honoured to be godmother.” Marnie’s heart swelled, and she gently folded Lori into a hug.
2007
The shrill ring of the phone startled Lori.
“May I speak to Lori Crystal?”
“This is Lori.”
“Lori, this is Paula. I’m a nurse at Ravenwood Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Marnie Bliden.”
Her stomach dropped. “Is she ok? What happened?”
“She’s ok, but she had an accident and fell. She’s got a broken hip. She’s going into surgery now.”
“I’ll be right there.” She was out the door before the call ended.
One week later, Marnie was released from the hospital into Lori’s care. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said as Phil helped Marnie into the house.
“You know I love surprises. What is it?” Marnie asked, attempting to smooth her grey hair away from her face.
“You’ll see in a moment.” She paused outside a closed door in the house and gripped Marnie’s hand, trying to control the flutters in her stomach. “Ok, remember how we discussed that you’ll stay in the spare room while you’re here for your recovery?” Marnie nodded. “Well, Phil and I talked, and we want you to move in with us. Permanently.” She turned the knob and pushed the door open wide. “We redecorated the room for you. What do you think?”
Tears trickled down Marnie’s wrinkled cheeks. “It’s beautiful.”
“And? Will you move in with us?”
“Yes! Absolutely.”
2012
Tears flowed down Lori’s face as the casket was lowered into the ground. Her friend, her rescuer, her mentor was gone. What would she do without her? Phil stood next to her, sombre in his black suit, and Chelsea, their daughter, stood on her other side, her sweet face tucked into Lori’s side. She wished she could sob like Chelsea, but she had to be strong today. Strong for Chelsea, who cried so heartbreakingly for her ‘grammy’. Strong to show respect for her friend, Marnie.
At the reception, an elderly man in a grey suit walked up to her and held out an envelope.
“Mrs. Crystal, I’m Marnie’s attorney. She instructed me to give you this on the day of her funeral.” Lori took the envelope. The man put his hand on her shoulder and said, “My condolences. She was a fine woman.”
She found an empty table in a secluded corner and opened the envelope with trembling hands.
Dear Lori,
Thank you for being in my life.
Family is not always those you’re related to. It’s those that you love, that you can count on, those that are there for you.
You gave me family. You became the daughter I never had and my best friend. Phil became my son. And Chelsea, sweet little Chelsea, became my granddaughter.
All those years ago, you thought I rescued you. Really, you rescued me.
I love you.
Marnie