A round serving tray slammed on the table in front of her, jarring Grace from her daydream.
"Wake up," her manager said crossly. "Break�s over. Table five�s food is ready and table two is ready to give their orders."
Grace wordlessly stood up, picked up the tray, and walked to the kitchen; her daydreams still fresh in her mind. Getting the food for table five, she carried it over to them, thankful that they didn�t complain about the service. The old couple at table two was not as friendly.
"It�s about time," the man said. "We�ve been waiting for fifteen minutes."
"The service here is decidedly less than stellar," his wife added.
"I�m so sorry," Grace said sincerely. "We�re understaffed today. Would a free piece of pie for each of you help?"
The couple grudgingly accepted then Grace took their orders. On the way back to the kitchen, she heard crying from the employee lounge. She walked into the small room and slowly closed the door behind her. A middle-aged woman in a waitress uniform sat on the threadbare couch, sobbing. Grace sat down next to her.
"What�s wrong, Barbara?" she asked gently.
Barbara slowly looked up at her, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Murray left me," she said quietly. "He...he ran off with that tramp he works with." She started sobbing again.
Grace gently took the older woman�s hand. "What are you going to do?"
"I..." Barbara swallowed hard. "I�ll divorce him." Fresh tears flowed as she sobbed into Grace�s shoulder.
Grace comforted her for a few minutes then finally remembered the orders she had yet to give. She told Barbara to call her whenever she needed to talk, then went to the kitchen.
After her shift, Grace drover her old clunker to her apartment building. As soon as she stepped into her drafty apartment, she went straight to her answering machine. There was only one message.
"Gracie, it�s Mom. It�s going to be a little crowded around here, so it would probably be best if you didn�t come home for Christmas. I�ve already sent your gift by Fed Ex. Call me."
How did that line from "Batman Returns" go? Grace thought. Oh yeah..."The party never stops on Selina Kyle�s answering machine."
Feeling very sorry for herself, Grace headed for her room and grabbed her scrapbook. Before she went back to the main room, she looked at her framed poster of the Eiffel Tower.
"Someday," Grace sighed.
She carried her scrapbook to the couch and sat down, flipping through the cutout pictures from magazines. Lovely houses during all four seasons, exquisite crystal goblets and fine china, and smiling families. The pictures never failed to cheer her.
A knock at the door interrupted her reverie. Setting aside the scrapbook, Grace got up and went to the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw her neighbor, Mrs. Bates. She opened the door. "Mrs. Bates, are you alright?"
The seventy-year-old woman smiled. "I�m just fine, dearie, but I wondered if you could help me. The drugstore said my prescription is ready, but my car�s in the shop, so I�m unable to get it. Could you pick it up for me? I already told them you were coming for it."
Grace thought about the freezing weather outside then thought about Mrs. Bates being without her pills. The decision was clear. "Sure, I�ll go."
The little woman�s smile was beatific. "You�re an angel, Grace."
Grace smiled. "I just like to help people."
Half an hour later, Grace was driving home from the drugstore when her car suddenly stalled. She managed to steer it onto the side of the road then decided the best thing to do was call for a tow truck. Grace dialed the number on her cell but there was no answer, and she didn�t know who else to call.
"I guess I�ll just have to wait."
Jareth shivered in the doorway of an apartment building. Seeing his breath and the gently falling snow had lost their novelty after two days. Now, he was cold and miserable, with no sign of any real generosity. True, some people did give him money, but it was never more than a dollar, and those that gave always had a look of disgust on their faces. Once or twice, a child tried to give him money, but their parents always pulled them away.
Finally, Jareth decided to wander the city. He would have a better chance of finding her then. For hours and hours he walked, stopping only for meals in soup kitchens. The people who worked in those places were kind enough, but they all seemed eager to get home. The only real goodness he saw was in the other homeless people. They made a place for him at their tables and talked to him as if he was one of them.
It was around seven that night when Jareth found himself wandering again. The neighborhood he was in was not the best, and it was deserted. Jareth turned a corner, then stopped short at what he saw.
A woman was sitting in a car parked at the curb. Her eyes were closed as if she were asleep. What Jareth could see and she couldn�t was the group of young thugs approaching the car.
