A quiet Thanksgiving takes an unexpected turn for Emma when she decides to volunteer at a local shelter. Amid the bustling crowd of helpers, she spots a familiar face—someone she never expected to see there. As the day unfolds, her assumptions are challenged in ways she couldn’t have imagined.
Emma sat at her desk, her eyes glued to the computer screen as she wrestled with the baffling new software. The program seemed determined to outwit her, throwing up error messages and refusing to follow any logic. Her frustration bubbled over.
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She glanced up and saw Tom sitting across from her, typing away effortlessly.
Of course, he’d already mastered it. Yet, instead of admiration, Emma felt her blood boil.
He was the most selfish, self-centered, and insufferable person she’d ever known. She clenched her jaw, remembering all the times his mistakes had unfairly been pinned on her.
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After another thirty minutes of struggling, Emma pushed her chair back and glared across the desk. “Tom, I need your help with this program,” she said, her jaw tight with annoyance.
Tom didn’t blink. He stared at his screen as if she hadn’t spoken.
Emma leaned forward. “Tom!” she said again, louder this time.
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He finally looked up, smirking. “Oh, darling. I didn’t even notice you there,” he said, his tone dripping with mock sweetness.
Emma clenched her fists under the desk. “I need your help with this program,” she said.
“Didn’t you once say you’d never need my help?” Tom asked, leaning back in his chair and grinning.
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“Will you just help me?” Emma asked, her patience wearing thin.
Tom tilted his head as if considering it. “Maybe if you say the magic word.”
Emma glared. “Now.”
He cupped his ear. “What was that?”
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“Please,” Emma said through gritted teeth.
Tom’s grin widened. “Now that’s the spirit.” He paused for effect, then added, “And my answer is… no.”
Emma’s jaw dropped. “What? Are you serious?” she said, but Tom had already turned back to his computer.
After an exhausting hour and a half, Emma finally managed to figure out the program. She let out a long breath of relief and noticed the clock.
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The day was nearly over. Across the desk, Tom was already zipping up his bag, looking ready to bolt.
Jeff strolled over, smiling. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” he asked.
“Thanksgiving. You know, a family holiday,” Tom said with a grin. Emma glanced up, her brow furrowing in surprise. “Which is why I’m planning to call up those twins I know. Should be fun.”
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There it is, Emma thought, rolling her eyes. Much more his style. Jeff burst into laughter, clapping Tom on the back.
“What about you, Emma?” Jeff asked.
Before she could answer, Tom jumped in. “Oh, Miss Goody Two-Shoes here is probably cooking a massive feast for ten people. Except it’s just her and her boyfriend, because who else would bother showing up?”
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Emma bristled. “You know what? Exactly. At least I have someone who cares about me. You’ve got no one.”
“Wrong,” Tom said, smirking. “The twins seem pretty interested. I’ll send you a picture.” With that, he and Jeff walked out, leaving Emma alone.
She sighed, shutting her laptop and gathering her things. She had lied earlier, and the truth stung.
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Her boyfriend was no longer in the picture. Her friends were happily married with their own families, and she couldn’t bear to be the odd one out.
Her family was miles away, and the idea of traveling alone felt unbearable.
On Thanksgiving morning, she stared at her quiet apartment. She had no plans, but sitting at home all day wasn’t an option.
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If she couldn’t celebrate, she could at least make the day better for others. She grabbed her phone, searched online, and found a shelter nearby. Volunteering sounded like the perfect solution.
After pulling on a sweater and tying her hair back, she headed out.
When she arrived, the shelter was a whirlwind of activity. Volunteers moved quickly, unpacking boxes of food, chopping vegetables, and stirring large pots. Laughter and chatter filled the air, mixing with the clatter of dishes.
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Emma approached one of the men. “Hi, I’m here to help today,” she said, her voice hopeful.
The man barely glanced at her. “You’re not the only one, sweetheart. Everyone shows up on Thanksgiving to feel helpful,” he said with a shrug. “We’ve got more than enough people, so you might as well head home.”
Emma frowned. “But I’m ready to work. Just give me something to do.”
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“There’s no work left. Everything’s covered,” he replied, waving her off as he walked away.
She glanced around, unsure where to go next. That’s when her eyes landed on a framed photo on the wall.
Her breath caught as she read the caption: “Volunteer of the Year.” The smiling face in the photo was Tom!
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Her jaw dropped in disbelief. This had to be a joke. Before she could process it, she spotted him in the crowd, giving instructions. Her surprise deepened.
“Oh! Emma!” Tom called out, waving like they were old friends. He walked over, wearing an apron that looked slightly out of place on him. “What are you doing here?”
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“I… came here… and… they said there’s no work, but I… wanted to volunteer,” Emma stammered, still trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
“Hey, Sam!” Tom called out to the man she’d spoken to earlier. “She’s with me. I’ll find her something.”
Sam barely glanced up. “Do what you want, just keep her out of the way.”
Tom turned to Emma and motioned toward a bag of potatoes. “You can peel these. That should keep you busy.”
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“Okay…” Emma mumbled. Tom started to walk off, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Wait! What are you doing here?”
Tom turned back. “Helping people. Doing a good deed.”
“You?” Emma asked, still stunned.
“Yes, me,” he said with a smile and walked away.
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Emma sat on a small stool, peeling the potatoes, her hands working automatically while her mind spun.
Tom, a dedicated volunteer? That didn’t add up. Something about this didn’t feel right. She decided she needed answers.
Setting the peeler down, she scanned the room until she spotted Tom talking to another volunteer.
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Emma positioned herself nearby, staying out of his line of sight. That’s when she noticed it—a slip of paper sticking out of his pocket.
That paper might explain everything. Acting quickly, Emma walked past Tom and the girl, pretending to trip.
She “accidentally” bumped into him, grabbing the paper with a quick swipe.
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“Oh, sorry!” she said. Tom barely noticed, already turning back to his conversation.
Emma moved to a quiet corner, her hands trembling slightly as she unfolded the slip of paper. Her eyes scanned the words quickly, and there it was.
A community service form, complete with Tom’s name at the top. It detailed court-ordered hours he had to complete.
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A smile spread across Emma’s face, filled with triumph and satisfaction. Of course, he wasn’t here by choice. He was still the same selfish jerk she knew from work.
Emma walked up to Tom, her grin wide as she waved the slip of paper in front of his face. “I know why you’re here,” she said.
Tom’s eyes widened, and for the first time, he looked genuinely rattled. “Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice low.
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“Does it matter?” Emma replied. “It’s proof you’re not as good as you pretend to be.”
Tom’s expression hardened. He grabbed her arm and quickly led her toward the door, away from the bustling kitchen.
Once outside, he turned to face her. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Only Sam knows,” he said, his voice tinged with urgency.
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“What did you do to get community service?” Emma asked.
“That’s none of your business,” Tom snapped.
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Then I might just tell everyone. Maybe I’ll share it at the office too.”
Tom hesitated. “Public urination,” he mumbled under his breath.
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Emma burst into laughter, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath. “Seriously?”
Tom glared. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay? If people find out, I’ll have to find another place to volunteer.”
Emma wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “Fine. I won’t. It’s enough knowing you’re still a jerk.” She turned to leave, but Tom’s voice stopped her.
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“And you’re better? You’re only here because you had no one to spend Thanksgiving with. Admit it,” he said.
“At least I’m here by choice,” Emma shot back.
“You’re here because you’re desperate. That’s not a choice,” Tom replied, shaking his head as he walked back inside.
Emma stood outside, staring at the ground, her mind spinning. Tom’s words had hit a nerve.
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She didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. If she had someone to spend Thanksgiving with, she wouldn’t be here.
Taking a deep breath, she walked back inside. She spotted Sam stacking boxes and approached him hesitantly. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
Sam glanced up. “Sure.”
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“Is Tom really the best volunteer here?” she asked.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. He’s been coming every week for years.”
“For years?” Emma repeated, her eyebrows rising. “I thought he was here because of… well, you know.”
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Sam laughed. “Oh, no. When Tom was a kid, he spent a lot of time in shelters. His mom was a single parent and couldn’t always afford food. He’s doing well now, but it wasn’t always easy. He helps here because he remembers what it’s like.”
Emma blinked, surprised. “I had no idea.”
Sam smiled. “Don’t tell him I told you. He’d be mad.”
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As Sam walked away, Emma felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t known any of this. For the first time, she saw Tom in a different light. She even felt a little sorry for the boy he used to be.
Sge walked up to the serving station where Tom was handing out plates of food. Without saying a word, she picked up a tray and started helping.
“Sorry,” Emma said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you earlier.”
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Tom glanced at her briefly. “You talked to Sam, didn’t you?”
Emma shrugged, not denying it. Tom smirked. “Doesn’t change anything. I’m still not helping you at work.”
“Do you always have to be such a jerk?” Emma asked.
“I earned everything I have. No one handed me anything. You’re smart enough to do the same,” Tom replied, handing out another plate.
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Emma paused, surprised by his words. “You really think that?”
Tom didn’t look at her but gave a small nod. “If you tell anyone, though, I’ll deny it,” he said.
They both laughed, the tension between them easing as they worked side by side.
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Plate after plate, they handed out warm meals, offering cheerful “Happy Thanksgivings” to the smiling faces in line.
It wasn’t the kind of holiday Emma had planned, but it felt unexpectedly fulfilling.
She glanced at Tom, still surprised by the softer side she’d seen. At least now, she had plenty of material to tease him about at work—not that she ever would. Probably.
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