I Remember (Remembrance Series) by Cynthia P. O'Neill Page B

sign this, so I can show proof of the deliveries? I need to head back to Orlando and to my family.”
    “I’m sorry, Jerry. I didn’t mean to keep you. What’s in the bag?”
    “Mr. Gregory was concerned you might be too tired to fix anything to eat, so he had me drop by a food service and pick up a few meals for both of you to enjoy.
    Once he was done, he turned toward the front door to leave. “Please hold on while I get you a tip for doing all this,” I said, reaching for my purse.
    “No need. Mr. Gregory already took care of it—with a very generous tip. Ms. Jordan?” he said before closing the door, “Please don’t be mad at him. This is just the kind of man he is.”
    “Have a safe drive home, Jerry, and thank you for the delivery and the insight.” I waved goodbye as he pulled away from the driveway.
    Mom came around the corner. “What was that all about?
    “We received a couple more deliveries, another floral arrangement and some food.” I moved Gregory’s arrangement to the center of the dining table. It seemed like every known spring flower, including a few roses, were in the arrangement and it made the house smell heavenly.
    As I spread them out a little, I noticed a card was attached and I opened it.
     

     
    “That’s so generous. Who sent these?”
    “Gregory.” I handed her the card to read.
    “Did you tell him where we lived?”
    “I never told him. Apparently, he did some calling around and found a floral shop that was delivering to our address and requested his courier make the delivery. The courier assured me that Gregory has no knowledge of our whereabouts; he even had him sign a statement that the address wouldn’t be revealed to him.
    “I feel a bit overwhelmed by all that he has done and I asked the courier why he would do this for us. He told me a wonderful story of how Gregory helped him and his family and basically stated that this is just the way he is, very generous toward everyone.” I shrugged my shoulders.
    “Fascinating. He sounds so much like your father, but be careful.”
    “I will, Mom.”
    We headed to the kitchen and started removing the lids from the food containers and were overwhelmed by how much food he sent.
    Mom and I looked at each other in amazement. There was enough for several meals and everything looked and smelled delicious.
    We grabbed plates and took small samples of everything, wondering which would taste best and also sit well on our empty stomachs.
    Between bites, Mom told me that Aunt Melinda and Uncle Tom would be arriving earlier than expected. They would drive up from Clearwater tomorrow to be with us and help with whatever was needed.
    I looked forward to having them here as a distraction for both of us.
    When I got up to put our plates in the dishwasher, I noticed an envelope had been left in the bag with my name on it. I took it back to the dining room and sat down to open it.
    The note read:
     

     
    “Are you going to call him later?”
    “Probably…Why?”
    “Please tell him he didn’t need to do all this, but it is appreciated and ask how we can ever repay his kindness.”
    “What did the note say?”
    “He’s concerned for both of us. His family had to deal with the loss of his grandmother recently and he thought food and flowers might help. He reassured me that he has no clue where we live and will respect our privacy. And he wants me to give him a call.”
    “Mom?”
    “Yes, Jordan.”
    “I don’t know if this is the right time to discuss this or not, but I want to move back here, for a while; not permanently, just until both of our hearts heal, if that’s okay?”
    Relief swept across her face. “I was hoping you would but I didn’t want to ask, knowing how the commute is already wearing you out. I would welcome the company as we both learn to adjust.” She wrapped her arms around me in a warm embrace.
    “I called Alley and left a message on the answering machine about Dad. Knowing her, she’s probably at a