“I think I can help ya. I have customers ta tend ta, but later I’ll be home. Come by after ya rested. Ya ate anything ta day?” The elderly woman's faded blues seemed kind and caring.

My face flushed, too embarrassed to say. But I had to admit that my stomach was starting to gnaw at my insides.

“Ya gotta keep your strength up.” She reached in her box shaped purse. I had a hunch by its worn edges that it was her only bag, meaning she didn’t have a flushed bank account. She pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it to me. I gaped looking at the money in shock.

“I can’t take this!” my gaze lifted back to her, gently pushing her hand away. “Thank you, but I don’t feel right taking your money. I can’t pay you back.” Taking an old woman’s coins was beyond freeloading. It was downright deplorable.

“No worry, Chile. If ya insist on makin’ it up, I have a small garden ya can help me with.” When she smiled, her faded blues beamed against her caramel skin.

“Okay. Sure. Eh…” I wrinkled my nose. “Hmm… I don’t know how to garden.”

“No worry, Catin. It’s like beans and cornbread.” She laughed as her round body jiggled.

“Do you live around here?” Why was I entertaining the thought? I knew I wasn’t going.

“See down da road? Saint Anne Street?” she pointed.

Cuffing my hand over my brows, I stretched my eyes. I drew back, “Oh, yeah,” I nodded.

“My little house is right down there. It's the fourth house on the left. Right next ta the vacant house at the end of the street.”

“Okay, thanks! What time?” I made myself smile. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the woman’s generosity. I just never had anyone take an interest in me.

She patted me on the back as she gathered to her feet. “Come at six, this evening.”

“I guess. Thanks.” I kept a tight smile.

“By the way, I’m Florence Noel. All my friends call me Ms. Noel.