Gregg Mathews woke up with a splitting hangover. He and his driver, Bert, had partied far too long and too hard last night. They had met up the Mendez twins at the Silver Slipper Lounge last night and began sharing shooters with them. The twins drank them under the table. At least that is what he thought had happened. Things had gotten rather blurry after the second hour of melon ball shooters. He did remember how pissed he was when the twins had waved goodbye as they walked without so much as a kiss goodnight — much less a roll in the hay or even a little feel.

He moaned as he tried to sit up and the hammer of Thor struck his temples. Shit, I can't believe we fell for those two and their lines of crap again.

This is the third time those twin bitches had come on to Bert and him rubbing their legs and whispering in their ears, and the third time they had consumed all of the liquor the guys would to buy them only to run off leaving the men with near blue balls.

He looked at his clock, Damn. I'm going to be late for church. I hate that.

People would look at him and his drinking ways on Saturday night and wonder about why he always went to church on Sunday morning. Gregg had tried to explain it once to friends when he'd been married to his first and only wife. Actually it was her friends as he had few of his own as he was rather socially backward. And it was in the days he was an electrical engineer flying for NASA on shuttle missions, before he became a junk man, a garbage collector. He'd tried to explain to them that he believed in God because one could not go into orbit and see the millions of points of light so brilliant in the jet black background and look at the beautiful blue Earth rotating slowly beneath without believing that some force and purpose had created all of it.

Most, including his ex-wife, simply tolerated his opinion and his display of faith on his sleeve. He'd become more inward pointing and withdrawn as she and her friends seemed to constantly poke fun at his faith. His wife was also constantly on him to work longer hours, go for promotions, and make more money.

His wife finally came home one day and announced she was tired of him and had found a man of means to "keep her in the manner she wanted to be kept."

He didn't fight the divorce since she asked for nothing. Her new man would provide what ever she needed and wanted.

His life went further down hill as NASA ended the shuttle missions about six months after his divorce.

That's when he decided to become a garbage collector. Collecting other people's junk could keep him close to God and pay the bills.

Gregg had simple needs and lived in an efficiency apartment in a cheap, but nice part of town. He drove a small hybrid pickup truck that was six years old. It was more than he needed and he loved the little truck. He rarely went out because he was shy and had few friends other than Bert, his driver. He had clean clothes but didn't go for current trendy fashion, settling on comfortable and practical clothing. He rarely drank other than immediately before Bert and he had to make another junk collection run.

Gregg had tried to ask a few women at church to go out but they all seemed to be busy or "seeing someone" when he asked them out. The women saw a dead end in him. After all, he was just a garbage collector.

On this Sunday, Gregg collected himself together, took three aspirin and dressing in his best suit made it to church just in time for the morning service to start. The first song had already started as he looked for a seat. He found one next a woman about his age with a beautiful little girl sitting next to her in the pew. He'd never seen her here before. He would have noticed. She was a beauty. He nodded and smiled at her. The woman looked at him and seemed to inspect him. She finally smiled back and graciously shared her hymnal so he could join in the song being sung by the congregation.

After church, he hesitantly approached her and introduced himself. "Hi my name's Gregg Mathews. Thanks for sharing your song book with me. I was late arriving. It was my own fault. Are you new here? I've not seen you before." With that outburst Gregg ran down. He'd spent his entire vocal ammunition in one great cannonade.

She replied with her hand extended, "My name is Stephanie Sizemore. And this is my little girl Suzy. Say hello to the nice man Suzy."

As Gregg was shaking Stephanie's hand, Suzy looked up into his eyes with the most beautiful, innocent, dark brown eyes he'd ever seen. "Hello Mister, I'm Suzy."

Gregg relied, "Hello Suzy, I must say you and your mother are both beautiful."

He suddenly stopped with his brain in a panic, what the hell did I just say? That's so unlike me. Shit, she probably thinks I'm hitting on her. Shit.

He stammered, "I ... I'm sorry Ms. Sizemore. I never say things like that. I must apologize for my outburst."

She laughed at his awkward apology, "Gregg, may I call you Gregg? Don't be embarrassed. That was a sweet thing to say. Suzy and I are honored you think we're beautiful. Don't we Suzy?"

Suzy looked up and shook her head yes.

She continued, "Gregg, please call me Stephanie. I just moved here and this is our first Sunday in town."

Gregg said, "I'm very pleased to meet you Stephanie. If there is any thing I can tell you about the town or if you need any help just let me know." Reaching in his suit coat pocket he pulled out one of the dog eared business cards Bert had forced him to buy when they started their business.

Stephanie scanned the card, "You're a garbage collector? I've got my trash being picked up by Waste Management Inc. I've never heard of Clear Sky Junk Removal. Is that your business?"

"Yes, my partner Bert and I opened it a few years ago."

"Does your route come by my house?" She asked as she stated her home address.

Gregg smiled and laughed, "No Stephanie I'm afraid our routes are far from your home."

Stephanie asked Gregg if he knew a good restaurant for a Sunday meal, since she had not yet unpacked the entire kitchen.

Gregg replied, "Oh yes, the Gravy Bowl is a great family style restaurant with great food. I can rarely go there because it is family style and it's far too much for one person."

Stephanie suggested, "Well, why don't you show us the way there and join us for lunch. The three of us certainly qualify for the family portions!"

Gregg readily agreed because he very much wanted to spend more time with this woman.

At lunch Stephanie told him some of her story. Her husband had been killed in Afghanistan. She couldn't make do on the stipend the government gave her, so she'd found employment at a local electronics manufacturer.

She asked Gregg more about his business but Gregg only told her that Bert and he would be leaving the next morning for a four-day trip on a new route that was scheduled to bring in six hundred pieces of junk. The stuff was valuable because of the precious metals contained in the junk and he and Bert split the profits. Bert was the driver and Gregg was the collector.