Every Night (Brush of Love 1)

“I had to fire one of the workers, but I promise you, I’ll get another one on the premises tomorrow so we aren’

t short-staffed.”

I was shocked, I had to admit. This man who wanted to do good was firing people on the first day. Had the man done something wrong? He did have a rule about not coming to the job site on drugs. Had the man been using?

“Was he ...?”

“Yeah. He was high on the site. I am so sorry, Miss Ryan. Out of all the times I’ve employed the homeless community, I’ve only had a handful of moments where something like this has happened, but never has it happened on the first day.”

“Hailey, please. Is there anything we could do for him? You know, to redeem himself?” I asked.

“The agreement I have with them is that they have to attend substance abuse counseling three times a week after work while working with us. They can’t come into work high, and they can’t use drugs on the job site. Those are my only conditions,” he said.

“Well, that makes sense,” I said.

“It’s dangerous for them,” he said. “To be on the job site high. They could injure themselves, injure someone else, get someone killed, or ruin a project, though that’s the least of my worries. Anything can be fixed, in my opinion. But they put people’s lives at risk, and I can’t have that. It’s beyond dangerous. It’s reckless. That’s the downside to what I do.”

“What you do,” I said.

“Yes. You want to help, but when you lay down rules and they agree to them, you have to stick by them. Sometimes, you want to send them home and give them a second chance to come back. But with these guys in here, I can’t take that chance. They have families. Children. Hell, some of the other homeless people I’ve hired have the same thing, whole families on the street who still depend on them somehow.”

“Right,” I said.

“Even something as simple as hammer usage could become disastrous with someone who’s high on the job. I saw a completely sober, professional man slam a hammer so hard and lose his grip that he drove the claw of the hammer into the top of his foot,” he said.

“Whoa.”

“Lost his entire foot that day. And he was sober. And knew what he was doing,” he said.

“Then if he broke those conditions and there isn’t anything else that can be done, you did all you could,” I said.

I could see the shock that rolled over his face, and I wasn’t sure why he was. I mean, he laid down rules that needed to be executed for safety purposes. It’s why I briefed my art therapy students on the toxicity of some of my paints. I tried to use nontoxic whenever I could, but the more vibrant and rare colors were made with things we shouldn’t be ingesting. I had to be upfront about that kind of stuff, and I had a time or two where I caught someone trying to do something stupid on my watch and had to kindly escort them off the premises.

It was just what people like us had to do sometimes. It was those moments where you realized you couldn’t help someone, no matter the opportunity you gave them. It wasn’t personal, but it was simply reality.

That’s the way it was, no matter how much it could hurt.

“You get it?” he asked.

“Of course I do. You think I haven’t had to put an art therapy student in their place from time to time?”

The dubious expression on his face told me everything I needed to know, and I was a little insulted.

“I expected you to be disgusted by me yelling at someone like that. I figured you’d probably fire us all on the spot or something,” he said.

“Do you really think I’m that kind of person?” I asked.

“Half of the nervousness and frustration I was feeling was that I thought that man had cost me this opportunity, to be honest.”

“Mr. McBride, I’m not sure what kind of person you think I am, especially given the conversations we’ve had, but that isn’t the case at all,” I said.

“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” he said.

“I’m a bit insulted, yes. I try to always see the good in people, try to understand, and give people the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t only hire you because you gave me a good deal. I hired you because our values line up and because I trust your judgment. I trust where you draw the lines with your business.”

“You do,” he said.

“Yep,” I said, grinning.