“And this store has every right to donate its inventory. We’re sending those twelve turkeys to the community food pantry.”
Applause broke out.
Walter approached the grandmother.
“What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Margaret.”
“Margaret, we’ll prepare groceries for you and your grandson, free of charge.”
She covered her mouth. “Thank you.”
Beatrice crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous. I’m calling my husband.”
“Excellent,” Walter replied. “I’ve been meaning to discuss him.”
“Oh, this should be interesting,” I whispered.
Walter regarded Beatrice sternly.
“Since you’re so concerned about money, let’s talk about yours.”
She glanced nervously at the crowd.
“Perhaps it’s time your husband learned what living without my money actually feels like.”
“What?”
“I pay your mortgage, cars, vacations, even your restaurant’s losses. That ends today.”
“You can’t discuss our finances publicly!”
“You had no trouble discussing Margaret’s.”
I smiled. “Perhaps luxury vacations aren’t what you should spend money on.”
Someone snorted.
“But our trip next month!” Beatrice protested.
“Cancel it.”
“Our cars?”
“Pay for them.”
“And the restaurant?”
“We’ll discuss its finances separately. I’m done covering losses without accountability.”
Beatrice looked horrified.
I whispered, “Well, that’s one expensive shopping trip.”
Walter showed her his phone. “Recognize this?”
“Because charity needs organization! You can’t simply hand food to everyone who asks!”
Noticing a banquet brochure in Beatrice’s cart, I suddenly had an idea.
“Actually, Walter, I have an idea.”
I leaned closer and whispered my suggestion.
Walter smiled. “Now that could be interesting.”
Beatrice frowned. “What are you planning?”
“You’ll find out tonight,” I said.
Walter addressed her.
“The banquet will go ahead, but Rachel will help organize it.”
“Her? Absolutely not!”
“Then I’ll explain to the board why I withdrew my recommendation.”
“You’re blackmailing me!”
“I’m giving you a chance to prove you care about charity.”
Beatrice glared at me. “Fine. But no public humiliation.”
“Then you’d better behave.”
She hurried away to telephone her husband.
Looking at her banquet brochure, I noticed her smiling photograph dominating the cover.
“Compassion Begins With Us,” I read aloud. “Quite a slogan.”
Walter chuckled.
“Especially after this morning.”
“Trust me, tonight’s going to give it a whole new meaning.”
He smiled. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”
Beatrice returned, visibly irritated.
“Are we done here?”
“For now,” I said.
She’d tried to demonstrate her importance by hoarding twelve discounted turkeys. By evening, she’d regret that shopping trip.
That afternoon, Beatrice posted online:
Caption: Tonight, we celebrate generosity, compassion, and exciting new beginnings!
I showed the post to Mom.
“The turkey woman?”
“Yep.”
“What’s happening tonight?”
“She’s learning humility.”
Mom grinned. “Can I come?”
“Doctor’s orders say rest.”
“Doctors ruin everything.”
By five o’clock, I’d arrived at Beatrice’s restaurant with Walter’s permission to coordinate the charitable activities.
Daniel, the restaurant manager, greeted us near the kitchen.
“Beatrice ordered champagne towers and imported desserts,” he said.
“And the charity contribution?”
“A percentage of tonight’s proceeds.”
I looked at Walter. “Seriously?”
He sighed. “Daniel, can your kitchen prepare two hundred meals with extra staff?”
“Absolutely.”
“We’ll pack grocery boxes too.”
Walter agreed to finance the supplies and transportation.
“One more thing,” I told him. “Introduce me to your biggest donors. I want to fund something beyond tonight.”
He smiled. “I know just the people.”
I personally telephoned Margaret.
“Rachel? Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor.”
“A favor? After what you did for me?”
“It’s a little unusual.”
“Well, now you’ve got me curious.”
I explained my proposal.
Margaret hesitated.
“Will that woman be there?”
“Yes. But it’s entirely your choice.”
After another pause, she agreed.
“All right, honey. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, Margaret.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t expect me to wear anything fancy.”
I laughed. “Deal.”
Beatrice’s introduction to practical generosity was approaching.
By seven, wealthy donors were entering the restaurant.
Beatrice appeared in a sparkling designer gown.
“Welcome!” she announced. “Tonight is about giving back!”
I almost choked on my water.
She spotted me and approached. “Rachel. I hope you’ve finished whatever Walter asked you to organize.”
“Almost. Everything’s coming together.”
“Good. Just make sure nothing interferes with my speech.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And please don’t embarrass me in front of my guests.”
I smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
Satisfied, she headed toward the stage.
While she worried about delivering her speech, I anticipated what would follow.
Walter tapped the microphone.
“Good evening, everyone.”
Beatrice hurried forward.
After thanking the donors and praising the foundation’s mission, Walter announced:
“Tonight, we’re introducing a more hands-on approach to generosity.”
Beatrice straightened, apparently expecting an appointment.
“Our wonderful hostess, Beatrice, will personally lead this activity.”
Guests applauded.
Her smile weakened.
Walter gestured toward me. “Rachel, please explain.”