Page 40 of The Reverse Cinderella

Max smiled. “Come and see it. You’ll understand that there is no need to worry.”

“Fine. Tomorrow,” Piaget decided to go and see this place. “But tonight you’re staying on the couch so I can sleep in peace.”

“Okay,” Max agreed. “I can do that. Just for you.”

“Good.” Piaget leaned her head on him again, closing her eyes. “That makes me happy.”

“Well,” Max’s voice rumbled in her ear. “Anything to make my girl happy.”

After Max cooked her breakfast in the morning, they went to see the local men’s shelter where he had been staying. It was run by a group of volunteers with some funding from the city and a few church groups. Piaget was pleasantly surprised to find it clean, despite the run down, old building that it was housed in. Cots lined different rooms for people to sleep in. There were eighty beds which the staff confided, really weren’t enough for this part of town. There was a cafeteria where three meals were served each day. There were washrooms and showers.

It was painted a depressing hospital green. Everything was old. The cots, the tables, the chairs.

But it was clean, and while some of the inhabitants looked a little shady, they all seemed to brighten up when they saw Max.

He knew so many of them by name. He knew their stories. Max introduced her and they spent the better part of an hour greeting people and asking how they were.

It made Piaget both proud of Max and sad that these people had fallen on such hard times. She found out that the shelter was always in need of donations and decided that while Max might not have need of her fundraising skills, these people certainly did. She would make a few enquiries today from her old acquaintances to see if she could help some of the shelters around the city. It would be her surprise gift to Max.

Finally, Max needed to get to work and she had classes so he left her at the bus stop to catch the bus to campus. As she rode the bus, Piaget realized that she had a voicemail from her mother. She wondered what her mother could possibly want and listened as Judith Forrester announced that she was going to drop in on Piaget later that afternoon. She was going to inspect Piaget’s apartment and then perhaps they could catch dinner. She announced a time then hung up.

Piaget stared at her phone. In the entire year that she had been living in the Elm street apartments, her mother had never once indicated any interest in seeing where she lived. There was probably some ulterior motive involved but Piaget couldn’t think of what it might be. Well, she wouldn’t have to wait very long, she reflected. It was a good thing that she wasn’t scheduled to work at the café later today. If she had been, she would have had to reschedule with her mother and Piaget knew the hard way that Judith liked things on her timetable.

In class, Piaget found herself doodling Max’s name again. She really had to find out his last name. Sighing, she pulled herself out of her schoolgirl crush and concentrated. Adam found her in the hall and grinned happily.

“I heard from a little birdie last night that the two of you patched things up,” he practically jiggled for joy.

Piaget shook her head but she smiled. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for him.”

“I still want an invite to the wedding!” Adam called as he headed down the hall to get to class.

“We’re not that far yet!” Piaget yelled back happily.

Piaget made sure to catch the early bus back after classes. She frantically cleaned the apartment until everything was hidden and what was visible was shining. Her mother wouldn’t look in the oven anyways so that was where most of the mess went. And since Piaget rarely cooked using the oven, she felt pretty safe about using it as a storage compartment in emergencies such as this.

She knew her mother would look down her nose at the place. While it was run down and tired, it didn’t mean that it couldn’t be clean.

Piaget wondered if she should have called her mother to ask why the visit. She might have saved herself and her mother the aggravation of the inspection and distain. Judith Forrester did not frequent that neighborhood. Nor would she normally deign to do so. It simply wasn’t in a neighborhood that was acceptable to a person of her social standing.

So it was with some surprise and suspicion that Piaget went to meet her at the entrance of the park. She came out a couple of minutes early to make sure she was there when the car arrived. It didn’t do to be late when it came to her mother.

The black town car was there, perfectly on time. The driver opened the back door and helped Judith out. She looked around with distain and Piaget took a bracing breath before doing the customary greetings and air kissing of both cheeks.

“I don’t know how you can live here,” her mom said, looking around as they walked through the park. “It’s filthy and it’s not safe.”

It was true that there was a little bit of garbage on the ground, things were tired and worn looking. There was a piece of cardboard in a broken window that hadn’t been fixed the entire time Piaget had been here. The lighting was spotty at best at night. The park itself was a little overgrown and not well maintained. But in the months that Piaget had lived there it had become home. Besides, it was all she could afford which really meant that she couldn’t afford it at all but it was better than the slums. Piaget was just about to protest her mother’s opinion when suddenly her mother gasped and pointed into the park.

“Is that a homeless man?” her voice dripped distain.

Piaget didn’t know what came over her. She just couldn’t help herself. Piaget followed her mother’s pointing finger to see that she was pointing at Max. That’s when Piaget got really angry and she didn’t know why. Her mother was right, he was homeless. That was an indisputable fact. He was there, ripped jeans, a couple holes in the hem of his black tee, hair a little long, talking to old Ed who sat on the bench. Piaget just didn’t like the way her mother had said it, so judging, about such a nice, smart, charming man. A man who bothered to talk to old Ed when so few did. A man who made sure other people were taken care of. A man who walked Piaget home on dark nights through the half-lit park. Her mother didn’t know him, how dare she look down on him? Biting her bottom lip, Piaget marched across the brown sparse grass, hooked her arm through his and walked a startled Max straight back to her ever-immaculate mother who stared in a horrified fascination that Piaget would bring this specimen of human failure to her.

“Max, this is my mother, Judith Forester. Mom, this is Max,” Piaget smiled brilliantly. “He’s coming with me to Tricia’s wedding.”

Her mother simply looked at Piaget nonplused. Max held out a hand. “How do you do?”

“Quite well, I’m sure,” she looked down at the dirty callused hand proffered to her and simply chose to ignore it. “Darling, could I speak with you a moment?”

Piaget continued smiling determinedly. “Max and I met in a college bar on fifth. He’s been simply wonderful. I’ve never had to worry about my security at night because Max has been so kind as to walk me home. Isn’t it fortunate that he lives so close to my building?”