Home With You

by Everhart, Allie

  "Water is fine. I could use one right now. I haven't drank anything all day."

  He grabs a bottle of water and hands it to me. "I left you a water bottle in the tent. I thought maybe you could find a place to fill it when this runs out. Or I can bring you more."

  "I'll give it to Gladys. She never drinks enough water. Is there just the one?"

  "Yeah, but I can get another one."

  "Don't worry about it. I don't need it."

  He takes the case of water into the tent, then sits down by the zippered part, holding it open. "Want to join me?"

  "If I do, will you bring me my backpack?"

  "I will, but can I get you a new one? That one reeks. I think there's stuff growing in it."

  He's right. It stinks like garbage and rotting food but it's all I have, and now I'm embarrassed by it. I should've tried to wash it but I didn't know how or where to do it.

  "Raine, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I know you can't help that it's like that."

  He gets it. He actually gets it. He could've made fun of my backpack and left it at that, but he realized his mistake and apologized. I have to give him credit for that.

  "Thanks," I say. "For apologizing. Since you did, I guess I could sit with you a minute. Make sure the tent works."

  He smiles as I get in. He leaves the zipper undone, causing the sides to flap around in the wind.

  "We might have to close this a little,” I say, reaching up to zip it halfway.

  "I knew it," he says, shaking his head.

  "Knew what?"

  "I knew once we were in here, you'd try to take advantage of me."

  I laugh. "Believe me, that's not what I'm doing. I'm just trying to keep the wind out." I scoot away from him, to the other side of the tent. "There. Is that better?"

  "I was kidding." He turns to face me, his legs crossed in front of him. "You don't have to be that far away."

  I scoot toward him a little and cross my legs like his. "So what do you want to talk about?"

  "Would you let me get you a new one?"

  "New what?"

  "Backpack. You can have the old one but I'm worried you'll get sick eating anything you put in there. And if your friend is old, it could be even worse for her. Old people don't have great immune systems."

  I hadn't even thought about that. I could be making Gladys sick and not even realizing it. I found that backpack a few months ago on the street. I have no idea who it belonged to, but I took it because I needed something to carry stuff in.

  "Okay, fine," I say, "but it has to be cheap. Or get a used one. There's a thrift store a few miles from here. You could get one there."

  "I'll get a new one. They're cheap. In fact they're on sale now that the stores are clearing out the back-to-school stuff. Should I get one for your friend too?"

  The fact that he's considering Gladys makes me like him more. Maybe he really is just trying to help us without any ulterior motives. I wish I could believe that but I can't. Everyone has a motive.

  "One is enough," I tell him. "Gladys and I can share."

  The wind blows into the small opening I left in the tent and I shiver.

  "Want me to close it?" Miles asks.

  "You really trust me enough to do that?" I tease.

  "I think I could escape if I really needed to." He zips it all the way closed. "Oh, I have something for you."

  "What is it?"

  "Found it in your backpack," he says, reaching in the pocket of his coat. "Actually, you should be the one to take it out."

  He takes off his black puffer jacket and hands it to me. "It's in the right side pocket."

  I reach in and pull out my knife. "Oh. Thanks."

  "I thought you might need it. I didn't want to take it out myself and have you think I'm pulling a knife on you."

  "Good idea." I smile. "You're not scared I'll use it on you, are you?"

  "I wasn't, but just to be sure, I'll buy you an apple fritter in exchange for my safety."

  I laugh. "Deal."

  "And this time I won't eat half." He gets serious. "I wish I hadn't done that. If I’d known—"

  "Don't," I say, interrupting him. "Don't treat me differently because I'm homeless. If you do, we're done. I won't talk to you anymore."

  "Are you saying you'll talk to me after tonight?"

  "Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

  "How do I make it a yes?"

  "You don't. I make my own decisions."

  "Doesn't mean I can't try to persuade you. I'm a lawyer. Persuasion is what I do."

  "Lying is what you do. Everyone knows lawyers lie to get what they want."

  "I'm not that kind of lawyer."

  "Who was that woman you were with? Is she a lawyer?"

  "Yeah. Lisa. She's making me do research on a case she's assigned to. We were out talking about it when we saw you. I'm really sorry for the way she treated you. If it helps, she's like that with everyone. You should see how she treated the girl at the coffee shop we went to."

  "Do you like working there?"

  "I thought I would, but I'm starting to regret taking the job."

  "Why?"

  "I think they do whatever it takes to make the most money instead of doing what's right."

  "All lawyers are like that."

  "A lot of them are, but some really do want to fight for what's right."

  "So what are you going to do?"

  "Keep working there and hope it gets better. Today was just a shitty day." He smiles. "Until I saw you."

  "Yeah, right. That was the worst part of my day. I didn't want you to find out that way. Actually, I didn't want you finding out at all but I figured you would if you worked around there."

  I look down at my pocket knife, running my fingers up and down the smooth case. I'm relieved to have it back. It's the only thing I have for protection.

  "Do people ever bother you here?" Miles asks, watching my fingers move across the knife.

  "In the alley? No. We're pretty much on our own here, which is why we like it."

  "How about during the day, when you're on the streets? Do people bother you?"

  "Not really. For the most part, people ignore me. If they talk to me, it's to tell me to get a job."

  "I meant are you safe? Big cities can be dangerous, especially at night."

  "I haven't had any problems. Sometimes a guy will harass me but that happened even before I was homeless."

  He's quiet a moment, then says, "How did it happen?"

  "What?" I slip the knife in my pocket.

  "How'd you end up here?"

  "Long story."

  "You don't want to tell me?"

  "No." I feel my muscles tense and my throat go dry as the memories come back. I quickly shut them down. "I really don't."

  He nods. "Understood."

  I look to the side, then back at him. "What happened to your dad?"

  He looks confused. "What?"

  "Your dad. You said you never knew him. Did something happen to him?"

  "He knocked up my mom and left town."

  "Had they dated long?"

  "Maybe a few weeks? I'm not really sure. My mom doesn't like to talk about it."

  "So you know nothing about him?"

  "No. And I never want to meet him. I'm better off without him. How about you? You mentioned your dad but not your mom. Did something happened to her?"

  "She's an addict. Took off one day and we never saw her again. For all I know she's dead. I was so young when she left I don't even remember her."

  "Did your dad do drugs too?"

  "Not that I know of. I'm not even sure where he is anymore. He moves around a lot. Has a hard time keeping a job. He's a drinker. And a gambler." I half smile. "My family has a problem stopping once we start. It's a Brockton trait."

  I wish I hadn't said that. Why did I say that?

  "Brockton. Is that your last name?"

  "Yeah, but don't go looking me up online," I say in a joking tone, although
I'm not at all joking.

  "Why not? Are you hiding some deep dark secret?"

  "Just don't, okay? I'm not kidding."

  "Raine, you're freaking me out a little here. What exactly aren't you telling me?"

  I should just tell him. He's going to look me up when he gets home and then he'll know. Maybe knowing this will keep him away from me, which is not what I want but it's for the best. For both of us.

  "Raine, what is it? You can tell me."

  "I was arrested."

  "For what?"

  "Breaking and entering. Attempted robbery."

  "Was this recently?"

  "No, I was nineteen. My friend and I broke into a neighbor's house. I don't even remember doing it. I was too out of it."

  "Drugs?" he asks, looking at me.

  I don't look back. I'm too ashamed. "I was an addict, just like my mom."

  "What kind?"

  "Pain meds. The kind people get hooked on. I'd been in a car accident that year and hurt my back. The doctor wouldn't give me anything for the pain but my friend did. He gave me pills and I took them, never thinking I'd get addicted."

  "Doesn't sound like much of a friend."

  "He thought he was helping me. He said he took them himself to help with a shoulder injury. Anyway, we broke into the house to get more drugs and got caught. He ended up getting convicted and I ended up being let go. The news did a story on it so now my name is linked with that online." I look at him. "You know how hard it is to get a job when someone looks you up online and the first thing they see is a story about your drug addiction and arrest?"

  "So that's why you're on the streets? No one will give you a job?"

  "That's part of it. I don't want to get into the rest."

  "Maybe some other time."

  I stare at him. "Other time?"

  "Yeah. Maybe when we get to know each other better you can tell me more."

  "Wait, I'm confused."

  "About what?"

  "Why you'd still want to see me. This is when you say 'nice meeting you but I have to go' and then run out of the tent, far away from the homeless drug addict."

  "You're not an addict. That was your past."

  "Doesn't matter. You still shouldn't be here. Not after what I told you."

  "And yet here I am." He smiles and it makes me smile back.

  "You make no sense."

  "Neither do you." He keeps the smile going. "So how about tomorrow night?"

  "What about it?"

  "You want to have dinner with me?"

  I study his face to see if he's kidding but I don't think he is. I think he's serious. "You want to have dinner with me?"

  "Isn't that what I just asked?"

  "Well, yeah, but I don't understand. I'm homeless. And a former drug addict."

  "Yeah." He nods. "I got all that. I'm a very good listener."

  "And knowing that, you still want to go out with me?"

  "I do. Do you want to go out with ME?"

  Do I? I'm not sure. I mean, I do, but I feel like it's a trick. Like he's got a motive or this is all some big joke. Why would he want to go out with me?

  "No," I answer.

  "Why not?"

  "Because it doesn't make sense. Lawyers don't date homeless people."

  "And you polled every lawyer on the planet in order to know this?"

  "I don't need to. I just know it to be fact."

  "A fact you made up. Not an actual fact."

  "That doesn't change my answer. I can't date you."

  "What if it's not a date? What if we're just having dinner? I'll even let you pick the place."

  An actual dinner? With food that didn't come from the garbage? I'd love that, but what about Gladys? I can't leave her all alone eating scraps while I'm having dinner at a restaurant.

  "Only if Gladys can come," I say.

  "Great! I'll get to meet her. So what time? Six? Or maybe six-thirty in case I have to work late."

  "You're really taking us to dinner?"

  "If you both agree to it. It'll be my first dinner with friends since I moved here."

  Friends? He thinks we're friends? We barely know each other.

  "It'll depend if Gladys is feeling okay," I say. "She's had a bad cough so I'll have to wait and see."

  "I'll come by at six-thirty tomorrow. If you go, great. If not, we'll reschedule. Does that work?"

  "Yeah." I reach over and unzip the tent. "I should go check on Gladys. She's probably wondering where I am." I get out of the tent. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

  I wish he didn't have to go but I'm sure he'd rather be home than sitting in a tent in the alley.

  "Are you kicking me out?" he asks.

  "No. But don't you want to go home?"

  "Not really. I'm tired of being alone every night. Why don't you come back out here and we'll talk some more?" He reaches in his wallet and hands me a ten. "Can you get me coffee while you're in there? Get one for yourself too. I'll stay here and watch your stuff."

  "Um, yeah, okay." I take the money and go inside the coffee shop. Gladys is still at the table, looking at one of the books she took from the bookcase. "Gladys, you okay?"

  She smiles up at me. "I'm fine, dear. Should I go?"

  "No. Stay here where it's warm. You want a coffee?" I show her the ten. "I have money."

  "Where'd you get that?"

  "I'll tell you later. I'll get your coffee. I'll be right back."

  I go up to the counter and order three coffees. It's great to order something and be able to pay for it. It feels like forever since I've been able to do that. I probably shouldn't have accepted the money from Miles, or the stuff he left outside, but I'm not going to worry about that right now. I need to take care of Gladys. I need to make sure she gets better. And a new tent and blankets will help me do that.

  Why is Miles doing all this? I can't figure it out. Does he really like me or is it something else?

  9

  Miles

  Today was another shitty day at work but I didn't care because I knew when it was over, I'd get to see Raine. Right at five, I race home to get ready. It's not a date but I still want to look good. I'm driving instead or walking so I go to the underground parking garage to get my car. As I'm leaving the garage, the thought hits me that my car has a better place to stay than Raine does. It's a heated garage with lights and security, sheltered from the wind and rain and snow that will soon be falling. My car lives the life of luxury compared to Raine, which is wrong in so many ways.

  I want to help her, and I tried last night, but she got mad at me. I get that she doesn't want handouts. When I first met her, I could tell she's strong and independent, but it's getting colder now and I couldn't let her live in that beat-up tent that didn't even close.

  During my lunch hour today, I went and bought her a new backpack, then I filled it with more food, all stuff that wouldn't go bad. She'll probably yell at me for it, but if she does I'll tell her it's for her friend, the old lady she keeps talking about.

  When I get to the coffee shop, I park on the street and get out of my car, then realize I forgot to bring the backpack. I'll have to give it to her later. I walk around the building to the alley.

  "Raine," I say when I see her. Damn, she's beautiful. She's standing by the tent, her dark hair down around her shoulders, her eyes brighter and more alert than they were last night. It's probably because she actually got some sleep in a tent that stayed closed and with blankets that kept her warm. I don't have much money but didn't even hesitate when buying her that stuff. I didn't care what it cost. I just wanted her to be safe and warm and to have food in her stomach.

  She's wearing jeans and the same sweater she's had on every time I see her. I wonder if she has other clothes. There weren't any in her backpack or in her old tent.

  "Hey." She walks up to me. "About tonight. I have to cancel."

  "Why?" I ask, unable to hide my disappointment. I really wanted to spend time with her tonight. I've been looki
ng forward to it all day.

  "It's Gladys. She's not feeling well and I don't want to leave her alone." Raine turns from me and walks away. She seems just as disappointed as I am but she's trying to hide it.

  "Dinner won't take long," I say, walking up to her. "We'll go somewhere close by. If your friend is sick, she should eat to keep her strength up."

  Raine turns to face me. "I gave her the food you left last night. She's resting now."

  "What if I got us some food and brought it back? We could still have dinner. We'd just have it here."

  "In the alley?"

  "Sure. Why not?"

  "There's not even a place to sit."

  "Raine?" An old woman peeks her head out of the tent, coughing really hard. It's the same lady I saw at the coffee shop the first night I went there. The one who was talking to Zoe.

  "Gladys, just wait there, okay?"

  "Hi." I walk over to her. "I'm Miles. Raine's friend."

  Gladys looks up at me and smiles. "Aren't you a nice looking young man?" She winks. "I see why Raine is so smitten with you."

  "Gladys!" Raine says, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks.

  "Smitten, huh?" I smile at Raine.

  "She's kidding," Raine says. "Gladys, what are you doing up? I thought you were resting."

  "I was, but then I heard talking and wondered who was out here."

  "Need some help?" I ask, offering Gladys my hand.

  "Thank you." She takes both my hands as she struggles to get out of the tent. It's hard for someone my age to crawl out of a tent. I can only imagine how hard it must be for Gladys, who is probably in her seventies.

  Gladys looks like someone's grandma with all-white hair, a round face, and a kind smile. She's wearing green polyester pants and a dingy white button-up shirt with two cardigan sweaters layered over it, one pink and one yellow.

  "How are you feeling?" I ask, helping her to the lawn chair that's set up next to the tent.

  "A little better," she says, coughing as she sits down.

  "Gladys, it's cold out," Raine says. "You should really stay in the tent."

  Gladys ignores her, her eyes on me, still smiling. "Raine said you like to work on your computer at the coffee shop."

  "I wouldn't say I like to," I say with a laugh. "It's more like I have to. My job doesn't always end at five. Sometimes I have to bring work home."