“Young lady, you got to deal with what God gave you. That face of yours is a blessing and a curse. Some people will love you for it. Some people will hate you for it. You mind none of them. Find someone that notices your insides.”
A wave of nostalgia hits me at the recollection. I miss her so much the feeling has three dimensions.
Grant murmurs something that gets swept away in the hum of air-conditioning and music. I look over and he smiles softly. The smile of someone who understands pain and disappointment. The smile of someone who doesn’t judge you for your past, but values you for it.
I can’t be enjoying his company. It’s not good for either one of us. And yet, when he’s sweet like this…it’s the worst temptation. “Did you say something?”
“I said blessing…but you’d still be beautiful without it.”
The shelter is at full capacity the shelter director, an attractive woman named Dr. Maria Lopez, tells us while she gives us the tour.
The closer we got to our destination, the more Grant shut down and started brooding. I’m getting a pretty clear idea about his childhood and it’s not a nice one. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out his father must’ve been abusive.
From the outside the renovations are noticeable. A fresh coat of paint. Thick, expensive picture windows. All the new light fixtures to keep the street well-lit at night in case there’s trouble. It’s not uncommon for the abusive spouse or boyfriend to track the victim down, Dr. Lopez tells us.
Inside the beds have all new mattresses and the rooms are clean, freshly painted in soothing colors. The kids have more than enough toys to play with and books to read.
The women and children that happen to be there in the middle of the day, who are not at work or school for personal reasons watch us curiously as we move from room to room. One little boy waves and we wave back.
“Our major expenses these days are keeping up with the rising cost of medical and security,” Dr. Lopez tells us.
Grant nods with a deeply thoughtful look. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You already do so much, Mr. Hendricks. We’re all so very grateful.”
“No need to thank me.”
A photographer for the shelter’s PR company takes Grant’s picture, careful not to include any of the women and children in residence. The turmoil of emotion is there, behind every smile he gives. I wonder if anyone else notices what a great job he does pretending he’s this easygoing guy. How lonely it must be for him not to have anyone to share this burden.
“We received two new residents from another shelter last night. A nineteen-year-old woman in her third trimester and a mother of five,” Dr. Lopez informs us.
Grant nods and listens attentively but I don’t miss that his hands are shaking, that he has to shove them into his pants pockets to hide what’s going on with him. It looks like PTSD even though I’m no expert.
Instinctively, I loop my arm around his and pet his bicep over his shirt. He stiffens at first and then almost simultaneously relaxes, accepting my touch.
Dr. Lopez’s speech falters for a beat, her gaze falling where I’m touching him. Then her warm eyes find mine and a genuine smile spreads across her face.
By the time the tour is over and Grant has handed over signed Titans memorabilia that can be auctioned for fundraising, he’s a block of ice. We step outside Dr. Lopez’s office and a little girl with curly pigtails, no older than six, runs up to him and holds something out. Grant crouches down to her level and murmurs a hello. The little girl is suddenly shy.
“That’s Ashley. She and her mother have been here too long.” Dr Lopez sighs. “She hasn’t spoken since…she arrived,” she finishes, catching herself. I look at the hard lines on Dr. Lopez’s face, the tinge of blue under her eyes from one too many sleepless nights. This woman is a saint.
Ashley hands Grant a pencil with a plastic unicorn head on top. He doesn’t want to take it but she pushes it into his hand. The backs of my eyes sting as I watch the torn expression on Grant’s face take shape. Ashley smiles, a gap where her front tooth should be, and runs away, leaving Grant staring at the pencil.
The Hello Kitty rubber band…the heart-shaped glasses…and now a unicorn pencil to add to his collection. I chew a hole through my cheek trying to stop the tears from falling.
“I’m so happy he finally found someone.”
My attention jerks back to Dr. Lopez. She smiles. “He’s such a good man. I always wondered why he didn’t have someone to love him the way he deserves. I’m so happy to have met you.”