Volunteers

What was meant to be a fun day of giving back to our community was quickly becoming something else--a day full of conflict. I didn’t like that idea at all, but here Starla was, standing on my front porch, waiting for me. 

I tried not to make assumptions that she was there to mess with me, but after interactions we’d had recently, I had zero expectations of it being anything other than her here to gripe at me about something. “What’s up, Starla?” I said, the words practically falling out of my mouth in a sigh.

“Hi, Harlow. Sam and I heard that you are helping some of the kids and elderly people in town with Christmas presents, and we want to help.”

I could only stare at her, my mouth agape, for a few seconds. “You do?” I asked her. It didn’t sound to me