Chapter 7.

"Some people are so poor, all they have is money."
-Patrick Meagher

On the day before her birthday, Callie looked through the old cupboard that hung above the "kitchen" sink, and sighed in frustration. It was nearly bare. All it held was a can of tomato soup, and can of applesauce, and a half-empty package of crackers. She and Brandon weren't starving by any means; she brought pizza home from work almost every day. But there was something about not having enough food that made one feel hungrier. She remembered that gnawing, insecure feeling from her childhood all too well. Absentmindedly, she grabbed the box of crackers, and nibbled a few. They were stale, and she washed them down with tap water. It was Tuesday. They just had to make it to Friday, payday.

Brandon had left for work a little while ago, and she was on her way out the door herself, for the lunch rush. she grabbed her jacket and locked the door, just as the mail carrier went by. Living under the radar, they rarely got mail, except for bills, but Callie saw the mailman tuck something into their box. Curious, she hurried to it, reaching inside. There was their electric bill, under the name Brandon Adams, and something else addressed to her. Probably junk mail. She glanced down at her phone, and sighed. Time was getting away from her, and she didn't want to be late for work. She stuffed the envelopes in her bag, and went on her way.

That evening, when Callie's shift at the restaurant ended, she was tired, but happy. She'd made some good tips that day, although they'd most likely go toward the electric bill. Thinking about that particular bill, she remembered the piece of mail that accompanied it. She reached into her bag as she walked down the sidewalk, headed toward home, and took it out, studying it in the dim streetlights. It had no return address, and what's more, the typed label was addressed to Ms. Callie Jacob. Not Callie Adams, the name she was going by. She was almost afraid to open it, not knowing what it meant, but her curiosity got the better of her. She slit the envelope open with her fingernail, and pulled out a greeting card. It was pink, with a picture of colorful balloons and the words, Happy Birthday on the front

"Who is this from?" she asked herself quietly. She opened it, her hands shaking, and her eyes went wide. Tucked into the card were two crisp fifty dollar bills. She fingered them carefully, as if they might disappear into thin air. One-hundred dollars. It felt like a fortune. She removed the money, and studied the interior of the cards. It was printed with the phrase "You are loved," but there was nothing else; no handwriting, no way of knowing who sent it. Looking around, and suddenly feeling nervous about carrying so much money through the streets, she shoved the card back into her bag, and turned around, changing directions.

Callie walked to the motel where Brandon worked, and let herself in. A little bell tinkled overhead as she swung the door open. She looked around for Brandon, dying to tell him about her mysterious gift. Incidentally, she heard him before she saw him. She went to the dining room doorway, and looked in. Brandon was there, playing his heart out at the piano. He was in his element. She smiled as she watched him for a few moments, enraptured by the music, and how into it he was. To her, Brandon was sexiest when he was playing the music he loved so much. Their shared love of music was what brought them together. She remembered the exact moment she realized she'd fallen for him. It was back home, one evening, after they'd went to rescue Jude from their previous foster home. Brandon stayed in that night. Somehow, they ended up playing a duet with his keyboard and her piano. The connection between them was something she'd never experienced before. It was magical, as if they were under a spell.

Callie sighed, continuing to admire Brandon from afar. Seeing him in there, and thinking about how much she loved him, their money problems didn't seem to matter as much. As long as they had each other, they were rich.

"Can I help you, miss?" a voice asked from behind.

Callie spun around, coming back from her thoughts. A plump, older woman stood in front of her. "Oh, no. But thanks. I was just looking for Brandon... but I see he's busy."

"So, you must be Callie?" The woman asked.

Callie nodded timidly. "H- how do you know my name?"

The woman smiled and laughed. "You're all Brandon talks about, honey. My husband and I feel like we know you already. I'm Ruth. My husband, Joe, and I own the place."

"Nice to meet you," Callie said, shaking her hand. There was something about Ruth that made her feel comfortable.

"Well, Brandon will be done in about a half an hour. You're welcome to wait for him. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to walk home alone in the dark."

"Thank you," Callie nodded. "I'd like that."

Ruth lead her to a counter lined with bar stools. "Have a seat, honey. Would you like anything? Something to eat or drink while you wait?"

Callie's stomach told her she was hungry, and the smell of food cooking was tempting, but she didn't dare spend any of the cash she had on her yet. "Thanks, but I really can't right now."

"It's on the house," Ruth told her. "You look like you could use a hot meal. You're too skinny."

Callie laughed at the older woman's comment. She didn't consider herself too skinny; she actually thought of herself as fairly curvy, if not average. But maybe she had lost some weight over the last few weeks? "Well, in that case, okay," she nodded. "Thank you."

Brandon left the dining room of the motel after his set ended, to find Callie at the bar, eating french fries and a BLT. "Callie?" he asked, going to her. "What are you doing here?"

She turned to him, and let him wrap her in a hug. "I was waiting for you. I need to talk to you about something, and I thought we could walk home together."

"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned.

Callie shrugged, smiling. "Yeah... I guess so." She picked up half of her sandwich and handed it to him. "Listen. Sit down and eat this, and I'll tell you all about it."

Brandon sat down, but refused the sandwich. "No, babe. You eat it. It's yours."

"Oh, will you just take it?" Callie groaned playfully. "You need to eat too."

Reluctantly, he took the food from her, eating it slowly, savoring it. He didn't realize how much he missed bacon. "You know this is a four dollar sandwich, right?" he whispered.

"Ruth said it was on the house," Callie explained. "I felt weird about taking it, but she's so nice."

"She is," Brandon nodded. "Joe is too." He looked up and saw his boss a few feet away. "Joe!" he called, getting the man's attention. "Come here for a minute. I want you to meet Callie."

"So, this is the famous Callie?" Joe asked, shaking her hand. "Brandon wasn't lying when he said you're beautiful. Nice to meet you, sweetie."

"Nice to meet you, too," Callie smiled, bashfully. She wasn't used to being showered with so much attention, but she felt proud that Brandon had been bragging about her. It meant he was thinking of her when they were apart.

After Joe left, Brandon led Callie to a back room, where he'd hung up his jacket earlier. "So, what's going on?" he whispered.

Callie reached into her bag, and retrieved the birthday card. Holding it between them, she flipped it open.

To Be Continued