"Actually, you never said that. And I don't know why you would. We had a great time last night. And that kiss...I don't know what to say other than—"
"We're not talking about it. About any of it. It never should've happened."
"What shouldn't have happened?"
"All of it. Dinner. Going to your apartment. What happened afterwards. None of it should've happened." She turns and walks down the street.
"Raine, hold on." I catch up to her. "Why are you acting like this? I know you had fun last night. And I know you felt something from that kiss."
She stops and turns to me. "I don't want to do this, okay? I'm trying really hard to get my shit together, which means I don't have time for friends or boyfriends or anyone else in my life."
"You don't have time?" I ask, challenging her because time is really what she has the most of right now.
She sighs. "Yes, I have time if we're talking actual minutes on a clock. What I meant is I don't have time for THIS. For dating and relationships and whatever else it is you're looking for."
"I'm not asking for anything other than time with you." I smile. "For minutes on a clock, which you just said you had plenty of."
She stares at me, her arms crossed. "You want more than that. You know you do. Saying you don't is a lie."
"Okay, yeah, I would like more than that. I'd like to take you out. Go on a date. But I'll take what I can get. And if all I can get is time with you in the alley—a few minutes, an hour—I'll take it."
"No." She turns and starts walking back.
"No?" I keep pace with her. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I don't want to see you anymore. I want you to leave me alone. No more dropping by. No more gifts. No more food. Just leave me alone." She stops when she reaches the alley. "Just go. And don't come back."
Those are her words but her eyes tell a different story. They tell me she wants me to stay. So why is she telling me to go?
I don't want to leave. Just being around her, even when she's mad at me, makes my damn day. Work was shit and I hated every second I spent there. The only thing keeping me going was knowing I was going to see Raine tonight.
"Miles," Gladys calls out.
I look behind Raine and see Gladys waving at me. I walk over to her.
"How was the mac and cheese?" I ask, noticing she already ate it all.
"Heavenly," she says in a dreamy tone, her hands clasped over her chest. "The best meal I've had in a long time. Probably not since George was alive."
"Was George your husband?" I ask, sitting beside her.
"Yes." She smiles. "My sweet George. My love. Oh, how I miss him."
"Tell me about him," I say, turning to her.
She smiles even more. "Where do I start? There's so much to tell."
"I've got time." I glance at Raine and see her walking toward me.
"He doesn't have time," she says to Gladys.
"And how would you know?" I ask.
"You have to work at night. That's why you're always at the coffee shop with your laptop."
I turn back to Gladys, lowering my voice. "Don't tell her, but I don't go to the coffee shop to work. I go to see a certain girl. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Menacing stare."
Gladys winks at me. "I think I know who you're talking about."
"Do you have any tips to get her to talk to me?"
"Real funny, Miles." Raine stands in front of me. "Just go. It's getting late and I'm sure you have law stuff to do."
"The law stuff can wait," I say, although it really can't. I open the sack of food. "Ham or three cheese?"
"What?" Raine asks, confused.
"That's what's left. I'll take whatever you don't want. Gladys had the bacon."
"Which was scrumptious," she says, clapping her hands together.
"I'm not hungry," Raine says, walking to the tent. She goes inside and zips it shut.
"Guess I'll have the ham," I say to Gladys, taking it out.
She leans over to me and lowers her voice. "Give her time. She's been through a lot."
"What do you mean? What happened?"
She pats my arm. "Let her tell you."
"Does she even like me?" I ask with a laugh. "Because she's not making me feel too welcome here."
"She won't let herself have what she really wants. It's because she's been hurt. Had things taken from her."
"What things?"
"Just be patient. It'll take time and patience to win her heart but once you do, it'll be worth it. She has such a kind heart." She sits back. "Shame that he broke it."
"Who? Who broke it?"
She smiles. "Eat your dinner. It's getting cold."
She's not going to tell me about Raine. She wants Raine to be the one to tell me about her past. I want that too but I don't think she will. I can't even get her to talk about last night.
"So tell me about George," I say to Gladys as I dig into my mac and cheese.
Raine is just a few feet away and I know she can hear us but she refuses to come out of the tent. But that doesn't mean I'm leaving. The alley is a public place. She can't kick me out. And she can't keep me from talking to Gladys. So I remain there for two hours, listening to Gladys talk about George until her eyelids droop and her head nods forward.
"You should get to sleep," I say, helping Gladys up from her chair.
"Yes." She holds onto me as she stands, then pulls me in for a hug. I wasn't expecting it and stiffen up slightly when she does it because she smells like she hasn't showered in awhile. But it's not right for me to reject her. She can't help how she smells. So I relax and hug her back.
"You're a good young man," she says. "I knew it when I saw you." She lowers her voice to a whisper. "Don't give up on her."
She pulls away and kneels down to get in the tent. I unzip it for her and see Raine lying on the sleeping bag. She looks like she's sleeping but she could be faking it so I'll go away. I get the sack of food and leave it in the tent, then zip it up.
As I'm leaving, I hear the paper sack rustle. Raine's eating the food I brought. She wasn't asleep.
Why is she being this way? Why won't she let me help her? Or at least just talk to me?
Gladys said Raine's been hurt. What did she mean by that? Emotionally hurt or something else? She said he broke her heart. Who was she talking about? What happened to her?
13
Raine
Miles is really getting on my nerves. He doesn't give up. It's been over two weeks since that night he showed up here with dinner, and every night since then, he's been back with enough hot food for the three of us. He pretends to be visiting Gladys but we all know he's here to see me. Or annoy me, which is what he's doing by continuing to come here when I've told him not to.
"Hey, Raine," he says, walking into the alley with two pizza boxes and a six-pack of soda.
I love pizza, especially fresh, hot pizza that hasn't been in the garbage. The smell alone is making my mouth water. I really want a slice but taking one would just encourage Miles to keep coming back, which is the opposite of what I want.
"Hey." I give him a wave before disappearing in the tent. It's where I hang out when he's here. He stays for at least an hour, talking to Gladys, listening while she tells him about George. She tells him stuff she hasn't even told me, like how she and George tried to have kids for years but couldn't, and how she wanted to be an actress when she was younger. She talks to Miles more than she talks to me.
I'm sure Miles would rather be doing something other than coming here every night, and yet every night he's back. There's no way he's going to keep doing this. I give it another night or two before he finally gives up and realizes I'm not the girl for him.
"Do you talk to your mother much?" Gladys asks Miles.
My ears perk up because Gladys usually does all the talking and Miles just listens.
"We talk when we can," he says. "She's a night nurse so it's hard to catch her when she's awake. She's usually sleeping when I'm able to call a
nd I don't want to wake her up."
"But you get along well?"
"Yeah, we get along great. She's my hero."
I smile hearing him say that. I wish I could say the same for my own mom.
"She struggled as a single mom," he says, "but I always had what I needed. She put me first, sacrificing her own needs for mine. I wish she'd done more for herself." He pauses. "How's the pizza?"
"Wonderful," I hear Gladys say. "Why don't you see if Raine would like some?"
"I would but I'm afraid she'd bite my head off just for asking. She's been in a really bad mood lately."
"I noticed that too," Gladys says. "But she loves that sweatshirt you gave her. Sleeps in it every night."
Why is she telling him that? And why are they talking about me? They never talk about me.
"I'm glad she likes it," Miles says. "I'll bring by more tomorrow. I have some just like it I never wear. Or maybe I'll buy her a new one. What's her favorite color?"
"I think she'd like pink," Gladys says, excitement in her voice.
I burst from the tent. "Pink? Since when do I wear pink?" I look at Miles. "You're not buying me anything. And I don't want more of your sweatshirts. And I don't wear that one you gave me every night. Just when it's cold and I need something warm. And I haven't been in a bad mood. I'm just resting in the tent. That doesn't mean I'm in a bad mood." I stop to take a breath.
Gladys and Miles are looking at me like I've lost my mind.
"What?" I ask, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of them.
"You shouldn't listen in, dear," Gladys scolds.
"I wasn't trying to, but you guys aren't exactly quiet."
"We'll try to keep it down," Gladys turns to Miles. "So how was work today?"
"The usual." He takes a bite of pizza. "Hours of boring meetings."
I stare at them as they continue their conversation as if I'm not even here.
As I turn to go back to the tent, Miles says, "Want some pizza?"
I turn back, my stomach growling. "I guess I could have some."
"Here." He holds up the box that hasn't been opened. "It's all yours. There's soda in the bag." He points to a plastic sack next to Gladys.
"Here you go, dear." Gladys hands me a soda.
"Thanks." I take the soda and pizza and go back in the tent.
"Some girl at work wants to go out," I hear Miles say, and the pizza I was holding slips out of my hand and lands on my jeans.
"Shit!" I say, louder than I intended.
"You okay in there?" Miles calls out.
"Yeah. Fine," I call back.
"Do you like this young lady?" Gladys asks Miles.
"I'm not sure. I don't really know her."
"Is she pretty?"
"Very. She works for the real estate firm in my building. I see her in the lobby in the mornings. She's always asking me to meet her for drinks after work but I tell her I have plans."
"Miles, you don't need to miss out on a lovely lady to come here every night."
"But I have a lovely lady right here."
"Aren't you sweet?" Gladys says, and I picture her patting his arm.
"And I'm sure Raine would miss me if I didn't show up every night."
I roll my eyes, even though it might be a tiny bit true. I admit I'm getting used to Miles' nightly visits, maybe even looking forward to them, but they can't continue. And I'm sure they won't. He'll eventually make friends and have a social life and stop visiting the homeless old lady in the alley.
He'll probably go out with that girl. The one he was talking about. Why does hearing him talk about her make me so angry? I don't care if he dates her. I don't even know her. Maybe they'd be a perfect match. And she's not homeless, so she's a better choice than me.
"I'm getting tired," I hear Gladys say.
"Need some help?" Miles says.
"Yes. Thank you."
I hear Gladys walking toward the tent and unzip it for her.
"You going to sleep already?" I ask Gladys as she comes in the tent.
"It's been a long day. You go out and talk to Miles while I rest."
"I'm sure he's left by now. He has to work."
"I didn't leave," I hear him say.
I peek my head out of the tent and see him standing there. "Why haven't you left?"
He shrugs. "Wasn't ready to. Gladys and I usually talk longer. It's too early to go home."
"Don't you have stuff to do?"
"Yeah, but I don't want to do it. You want to come out here and keep me company?"
I feel a quick, but hard, push on my butt that practically launches me out of the tent. I look back and see Gladys smiling, her eyes closed.
"Gladys, did you just push me?"
She yawns. "Goodnight, dear."
She did! She totally pushed me!
Before she can do it again, I grab the box of pizza and my soda and crawl out of the tent.
"I should let her sleep," I say to Miles.
He zips the tent closed. "How do you like the pizza?"
"It's good, but you don't have to keep bringing us dinner." I sit on the milk crate, leaving Miles the lawn chair.
"It's better than eating alone," he says.
"But that's not why you're doing it." I flip open the pizza box and take a slice. I bite into it, slowly savoring it. A couple weeks ago, before Miles started giving us food, I would've inhaled this pizza without even tasting it. I was always starving and never got enough food from the trash to feed both Gladys and me. I'd give her most of it and tell her I'd already eaten, knowing she needed the food more than me.
Miles reaches to get his soda from the ground. "You seem to think you know a lot about me."
"I know you don't come here every night to talk to Gladys." I take another bite of pizza.
"Then why do I come here?"
I glance at him. "Don't make me say it."
"Go ahead. I'm curious. Why do I come here?"
"To annoy me."
He turns to me. "I annoy you?"
I sigh. "No. Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's just that I told you there could never be anything between us and yet you keep coming back. So it's not you, specifically, I'm annoyed with, but the fact that you won't listen."
"So we can't even be friends?"
Grabbing a napkin, I wipe my hands and reach for my soda. "Why would you want to be friends with me? Do you really like hanging out in an alley?"
"I'd rather take you out somewhere but you refuse to go with me."
"Going out means going on a date." I take another slice of pizza, then close the box, wanting to save it for later.
"It doesn't have to be a date. We can just go out as friends."
I point to myself. "You really think I want to go out like this?"
"What? I think you look great."
"Are you kidding? My clothes are dirty. My hair's dirty. I can't shower."
"If you don't mind me asking, what do you do about that? The shower thing. Do you have someplace to go?"
I hate talking about this. It's embarrassing and just another reminder of how different we are and why he needs to find someone else.
"The bathroom in the coffee shop."
"There's a shower in there?"
"No." I grab another napkin and wipe off my hands. "I just use the sink and paper towels. Washing my hair is hard because the sink is so low and it's really small but it's better than not washing it at all."
"What about Gladys?"
"She does the same. I help her with her hair but she only washes it once a week."
"And you said Zoe washes your clothes?"
"Only if we ask her to. But I feel bad when she does it. She has enough laundry to do with all her kids' clothes. We usually just wash our clothes in the bathroom."
"I could take them."
"Take what?"
"Your laundry. I have a washer in my apartment that barely gets used. All my work clothes go to the dry cleaner so I really don't use my washer mu
ch."
"You're not doing my laundry."
"Then you can do it. Just come over and use my machine. I'll give you a key. You could use my shower too if you want. You could go while I'm at work. Might as well have someone using the place while I'm gone. Gladys could go there too."
"We're not doing that," I say, kicking around the loose pieces of concrete under my feet.
"Why not?"
"Because it's wrong. And I told you, we don't take handouts."
"Would it be a handout if you were a friend and I asked you to housesit?"
"No, but that's different."
"How is it different? We're friends. And I'm asking you to housesit."
"We're not friends. We barely know each other."
"We know each other better than most people do. I consider you a friend. And Gladys and I are definitely friends. I feel like I know her whole life story."
I smile. "She likes talking to you. She never talks that much to me."
Miles sets his soda down. "She loves you like a daughter."
I nod. "I know. Which is why it's gonna be hard when I leave."
"Leave?"
My eyes go to his. "I'm not going to be here forever. I told myself six months and I'm out of here."
"How long's it been?"
My shoulders fall. "Six months. I haven't been able to find a job. People don't hire the homeless."
"You're not homeless. You're a camper, remember?" He smiles.
"Employers don't see it that way."
"Where'd you used to work?"
"In high school, I worked fast food. Then after I graduated I waitressed for a few years."
"You didn't work after that?"
"I did, but I didn't really get paid."
"What'd you do?"
"I um, took care of the house I was staying at."
"So you were a maid?"
"Not really." I look down.
"I don't get it. You took care of a house and didn't get paid?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I say, setting my empty soda bottle down. "You should get going. Don't you have work to do?"
"I do, but I'd rather stay here with you."
"Well, I don't have anything else to say, so unless you just want to sit here in silence, you should probably go."
He tips his head back and looks up at the sky. "I hate my job."
Home With You Page 12