Home With You

by Everhart, Allie

  "Wait." He races up to me. "You can't just leave after that."

  I sling my backpack over my shoulder. "There's nothing else to say. And I need to get back to the tent. I don't want anyone stealing my stuff."

  "Nobody's going to steal it. And if they did, I'd buy you more."

  "Miles, that's one of the reasons I can't trust you. Because you buy me stuff. You can't keep doing that." I unlock the door. "I have to go."

  He moves in front of the door, blocking it. "I'm not him. I get why you don't trust people, but I'm not him. I didn't buy you that stuff to control you or make you stay with me. I bought it because I truly am worried about you living on the streets. It's cold. It's dangerous. And it's not where you should be."

  "Which is why I'm trying to get back on my feet. But I want to do it on my own. I have to prove to myself that I can. Now get out of my way so I can go."

  He steps aside. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?"

  "If you don't understand that, after all that I told you, then you'll never understand me."

  "I DO understand but if you keep doing what you're doing, how is that going to get you off the streets?"

  "I don't know but I'll figure it out." I open the door. "I'm sorry, Miles, but I need to do this on my own."

  He sighs. "Would you at least talk to someone? I don't know if she'd want to. She doesn't like talking about it but she might do it if I explained what's going on."

  "Who are you talking about?"

  His eyes shift to the side. "My mom."

  "Why would I talk to your mom?"

  "She was homeless," he mutters. "It wasn't for very long but long enough that she knows what it's like."

  "Your mom was homeless?" I ask, coming back inside and closing the door. "When?"

  "Back when she was pregnant with me. Her parents disowned her when they found out she was pregnant with no plans to get married."

  "They kicked her out?"

  "Yeah. She had nowhere to go so she ended up on the streets. She was there less than a week but in that week she was almost raped, had what few possessions she owned stolen from her, and had nothing to eat. This woman saw her sleeping on a bench and asked if she could help. If my mom hadn't accepted the woman's help, she probably would've died out there and I never would've been born."

  I stare at him, my arms crossed. "So is that why you did this?"

  "Did what?"

  "Is that why you got so involved in my life after you found out I was homeless? Is that why you bought me all that stuff? Because you're trying to make up for what happened to your mom?"

  "No!" He walks away from me, shaking his head. "Why the hell do people keep saying that? This has nothing to do with my mom! I wasn't even born when she was going through all that."

  "What people?" I walk up to him. "Who have you told about me?"

  Miles turns to face me. "Greg. My friend from back home. He kept telling me to find a girl. I told him I'd already found someone. I mentioned you live on the streets and he gave me this speech about how I'm trying to make up for what happened to my mom. But I swear to you, Raine, that's not what I'm doing. I'm helping you because it's the right thing to do. I'm sure that's why that lady helped my mom, but just like you, my mom told her no at first. She had too much pride to accept help."

  "What changed her mind?"

  "Me. She knew it was dangerous for her to be out there, not able to eat or sleep. She realized she had to accept help if she wanted her baby to survive."

  "I don't need to worry about that."

  "No, but it's still dangerous living on the streets, especially when that asshole who hurt you isn't locked up. He could come after you, Raine. He could try to hurt you again."

  "He doesn't know where I am. And I'm pretty sure he left town. He needed to. He was getting sloppy. Letting himself get too exposed. That girl showing up at the house just proves he wasn't being as careful as he should've been. I'm sure by now he's started up his business somewhere else. Somewhere where nobody knows him."

  "He needs to be found," Miles says, his jaw clenched. "And then he needs to go to prison."

  I grip his arm. "You're not doing anything, Miles. Promise me you won't."

  "Why?" He yanks his arm back and walks to the wall of windows. "So he can go free? After what he did? So he can keep doing what he's doing? That's really what you want? The guy should be charged with attempted murder."

  "That'll never happen. I'll never press charges against him. For one, I can't prove he did that to me, and two, I'm not putting myself at risk like that. He has too many people working for him. People who would come after me if I ever told the police about him."

  "You don't know that," Miles says, still facing the window.

  "You don't know Rob. He can persuade anyone to do most anything, especially the weak and the desperate. If I pressed charges against him, he'd hire someone to come find me and kill me."

  "What if he already has?" Miles turns to face me. "He knows you're alive. You weren't there when he got home that day. You were supposed to be dead, your body still in the house, but it wasn't. He knows you're alive, which means he could have people looking for you."

  I shudder at the thought. "He wouldn't do that. He doesn't need to. I'm not a risk to him. I've kept quiet all these months. He won't waste time and money coming after me."

  "You don't know that for sure, which is why you shouldn't be living on the streets."

  "I'm not going to be there forever. It's only temporary. And if Rob really wanted to find me, he would've done it by now." I walk to the door. "I'm going home."

  Miles sighs. "Would you at least have dinner with me?"

  "Not if we're going to spend it talking about this."

  "We won't. I promise." He walks over to me. "What do you say? You do kind of owe me after using me the way you did."

  I smile and set my backpack down. "Okay, I'll go."

  "We need to go now. I'm starving." He walks over to the counter to get his keys. "Grab your sweatshirt. It's cold out." He gets his leather jacket from the closet. "Or you could wear this."

  "The sweatshirt's fine," I say, pulling it on.

  We leave the apartment and walk down to the street.

  "Where are we going?" I ask.

  "The Italian place. The one by my office. You're good with that, right?"

  "Um, not really. That place is too fancy. I'm not dressed right."

  "Neither am I but they know me and know I work at the law firm next door so they won't say anything about how I'm dressed. They want our business too much."

  "If you go there for work I don't think we should go there." I walk faster down the street, leaving Miles behind. It's much colder than it was earlier and this sweatshirt isn't enough to block the frigid wind.

  "Why would that matter?" Miles asks, racing to catch up to me.

  "You really want them to see you with a homeless girl?"

  "They don't know you're homeless. And if they did, I wouldn't care." He quickens his pace. "Why are you walking so fast?"

  "Because it's cold."

  "Raine, stop."

  "I can't," I say, continuing to walk. "If I stop I get colder."

  "Would you just stop?" I feel his arms go around me and my feet lifting off the ground.

  "Hey! Put me down," I say, laughing as he continues to hold me.

  "Will you wear my jacket?"

  "Yes. Now put me down."

  He slowly sets me on the ground, then helps me into his jacket, which is way too big but makes me instantly warm. He turns me around and leans down to kiss me, his warm lips covering mine.

  "What was that for?" I ask.

  "I wanted to kiss you."

  "Miles, you can't do that. I told you we can't be anything more than friends, and I told you why. You can't keep trying to date me."

  "I'm trying not to," he says, taking my hand as we continue to walk. "But I'm having a hard time following that rule."

  "You need to, because nothing's going
to happen between us."

  "I'm pretty sure it already has."

  "That was sex. That's different."

  "I wasn't talking about that," he says, giving my hand a squeeze.

  He means we've already developed feelings for each other, and although it's true, I'm trying to deny it. I can't get involved with him, or anyone, right now. It's not what I want but it's how it has to be.

  We get to the restaurant, which is dark and elegant with white tablecloths and candles on every table. I feel completely underdressed but Miles seems perfectly comfortable, walking straight up to the hostess stand, his hand still wrapped around mine.

  "Table for two," he says to the thin brunette.

  She smiles at him. "I've never seen you at dinner before."

  "I thought I'd give it a try."

  Her eyes go to me. "You look familiar. Do you work at the firm?"

  "No," I say, pulling Miles' jacket tighter around me.

  "I know I've seen you before. You must work downtown."

  I don't answer.

  "We'd really like to get seated," Miles says to her. "We're starving."

  "Certainly. Right this way."

  She leads us to a table along the windows, then stops suddenly and looks back at me, like she suddenly remembers how she knows me. She turns back and walks us to a table near the restroom.

  "Is this all you have?" Miles asks. "I don't want to sit by the restroom."

  She glances at me. "Sorry, but we had a lot of reservations tonight."

  "What about that table up front? The one by the windows?"

  She looks annoyed that he noticed that and called her on it.

  "I thought this one might be better," she says, faking a smile. "It'll give you more privacy."

  "I'll give up privacy to not sit by the bathroom," Miles says, smiling back. "We'll take the table up front."

  She clears her throat. "Of course. Right this way."

  We follow her back to the table. She sets the menus down, then quickly walks off.

  "She knew," I say to Miles as I open the menu. "That's why she put us back there."

  "I know." He picks up his menu. "But I fixed it so we're good."

  "She's telling the waiter," I say, watching her whispering to him.

  "Just ignore them and figure out what you want to eat. They have really good lasagna. I usually don't get it because of the carbs but I think I'll splurge tonight."

  "Watching your weight?" I ask in a teasing tone.

  "I don't watch my weight but I watch what I eat. I work out a lot and I don't want my diet ruining all my hard work in the gym."

  I assumed he worked out to get a body like that but I don't know when he has the time. He's always at work or hanging out it in the alley with Gladys and me.

  Gladys. I almost forgot to check on her.

  "Can I use your phone?" I ask Miles.

  "Sure. Who are you calling?"

  "Zoe. Oh, wait, I don't know her number."

  "I do." He scrolls through his phone, then hands it to me.

  "Hello?" Zoe answers.

  "Zoe, it's Raine. How's Gladys?"

  "Much better. I've been giving her hot tea and my homemade chicken soup." She laughs. "The girls love her. I keep telling them to let her rest but then find them in her room. I might have to hire Gladys as their new nanny."

  "Is she getting any sleep?"

  "Yes. She napped when the girls did. When she woke up, she had dinner in her room and then read a book to the girls. You should see her with them. It's really amazing how quickly they bonded. They're going to be sad when she leaves."

  "When is she coming home?"

  "I'd like her to stay until she's better, which could take a week, maybe longer."

  "That long? And she's okay with that?"

  "I haven't asked her yet. I'm sure she'll argue with me but I don't want her going back out in the cold until her health has improved. Truthfully, I don't want her going back there at all but I don't know what to do. The shelters are full and I promised my husband this was only a short-term stay. I was thinking maybe I could put a request up at my church. See if someone would let her stay with them, at least for the winter months."

  "Meaning she wouldn't be coming back? But I—" I decide not to argue with her about it because having a warm home to stay at is better for Gladys than being on the street. But I'll miss her terribly and don't know what I'll do without her. She's what's been keeping me going all these months. She's like family to me and I don't want to lose her.

  "Raine, I know you don't want Gladys to go but—"

  "She can't stay out in the cold. I know. I'll just miss her."

  "What about Miles?"

  "What about him?"

  "I'm sure he'd let you stay with him for more than a night or two. He really cares about you, Raine. We had a talk and well, I don't want to share too much but you need to know he really does care about you. He might even love you."

  I glance at him across the table. "It's not like that, Zoe. We're just friends."

  "He could help you, Raine. Just talking to him, I know he'd do most anything to help you. You just need to let him. Are you still at his place?"

  "No, we're out having dinner."

  "But you're going to stay with him tonight, right?"

  "Probably. Hey, I should go. I don't think the restaurant approves of cell phones." I glance around, noticing the dirty looks I'm getting. "Tell Gladys I said hi and that I hope she gets better soon."

  "I will. Tell Miles hi for me."

  "Okay. Bye, Zoe." I give Miles his phone. "She said to tell you hi."

  "How's Gladys doing?"

  "Good. It sounds like she never wants to leave."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She loves Zoe's girls and they love her. They don't want her to leave."

  He smiles. "I thought that might happen. Gladys told me how much she loves kids."

  "She can't stay there," I say, sounding angry. Because I AM angry. Zoe can't take Gladys from me. I need her.

  Miles reaches across the table for my hand. "Nothing's been decided. She hasn't even been there a day."

  "I know, but Zoe's already trying to find Gladys somewhere to live. She said she's going to post something at her church."

  "Would that really be a bad thing?" he asks.

  I sigh. "No. It's good. It's what needs to happen. She's too old to be on the streets. She needs a real place to stay. I just...I just don't want her to go."

  Miles gives my hand a squeeze. "Let's worry about that when it happens. But whatever happens with Gladys, you're not alone. I'll still be here."

  I look away, taking my hand from his and placing it under the table.

  He sits back and picks up the menu. "I think I'll get the broiled cod with polenta."

  "What about the lasagna?"

  "Too much fat."

  "You said you were splurging."

  "Changed my mind. I'm trying to win over this girl, and since my attempts to be nice to her don't seem to working, I'm going for pure physical attraction. Maybe I could win her over with my abs."

  I smile. "You don't have to do that. Have the lasagna."

  "Nope." He sets his menu down. "I'm going with the cod."

  I put my menu on top of his. "I DO appreciate everything you've done for me. I just can't accept your help anymore."

  "Which I don't get, but let's just agree to disagree." He smiles. "Or maybe my six-pack abs will make you change your mind."

  The waiter arrives. "Can I start you with any drinks?"

  "Just water," I say.

  "Same for me," Miles says.

  The waiter looks from Miles to me, then back to Miles. "Working late?"

  "No. Why?"

  He shakes his head. "I thought she was a client. Never mind."

  "Why'd you think she was a client?" Miles asks. "I'm just curious."

  "I've seen you here with some of the lawyers. I assumed you work at the firm next door."

  "I do. But
I don't usually work the weekends."

  He nods. "So what can I get you?"

  Miles motions to me. "Raine, go ahead."

  "I'll have the lasagna," I say, not looking at the waiter.

  "I'll have the cod," Miles says. "Actually, forget that. I’ll have the lasagna, and we'll start with a salad."

  "I'll get that right in," the waiter says, then hurries off.

  "What the hell was that about?" Miles asks.

  "He knows me," I say, before taking a sip of my water.

  "How does he know you?"

  "He's seen me on the street. He was tossing a donut in the trash a few weeks ago and I took it. He saw me."

  "And he thought my firm is representing you? For what?"

  "Who knows? Maybe he thinks I'm trying to sue someone to get money. People always assume homeless people are trying to scam people out of their money."

  "If he really thinks that about you, we should leave. I don't want to be giving this place my money. We'll go somewhere else."

  "Just forget it. We're already here and I'm really looking forward to the lasagna. I haven't had Italian food since...well, since Rob took me." I take my cloth napkin and lay it over my lap. "He took me to places like this all the time. Trying to impress me, I guess."

  "That's not what I'm doing," Miles says. "Raine, look at me." I do and he says, "I'm not him. I'll say it over and over again if that's what it takes for you to believe me. I'm not him and I never will be."

  I want to believe him, and for the most part I do. But there's still a part of me that doesn't. Even if it did, I still want to do this on my own. I let guys mislead me one too many times. But it's not going to happen again.

  20

  Raine

  "Thanks for dinner," I say to Miles as we're leaving the restaurant. "I'm so stuffed I may not need to eat for days. Aren't you glad you got the lasagna instead of the cod?"

  "I am, but now I'll have to put in more hours at the gym, not just for the lasagna but for the cheesecake. But it was worth it. That cheesecake was amazing."

  We shared the cheesecake after finishing off enough lasagna to feed six people. I was going to save some of it to take home but it was so good I couldn't stop eating.

  "What now?" he asks, taking my hand.

  "Hey. No holding hands.”

  "I have to. It's dark out."