“Did you tell her that her sick grandson wasn’t your problem?”
Beatrice hesitated. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
“Actually,” I interrupted, “those were your exact words.”
“She’s lying!”
I turned toward the customers. “Did anyone else hear that?”
Three shoppers raised their hands.
Walter sighed. “Beatrice, I’m disappointed.”
“Over a turkey?”
“No, Beatrice. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation.”
She stiffened. “What conversation?”
“About how you treat people. This isn’t the first time, Beatrice.”
The grandmother, Margaret, looked astonished.
“My son kept making excuses for you,” Walter continued. “And I let him.”
Margaret shook her head slightly. “Goodness…”
“Last month, I warned you that running our foundation would require more than hosting expensive parties.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So this wasn’t exactly her first warning?”
“That has nothing to do with this!”
“It has everything to do with this. You want to run a charity, yet you can’t spare one turkey for a sick child.”
“Exactly,” I added. “You had twelve. She only needed one.”
Walter addressed the manager. “Please put those turkeys back in the refrigerated section.”
“You can’t!”
“They haven’t been purchased.”
“I have every right to buy them!”
“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.
