arms over his chest, attempting to look intimidating. “They didn’t do shit for me when I lost my job, my house, or my life. Why should I trust them to house and feed me?”
I stifle a sigh. He has to be the stubbornest man on the planet. He could have a warm bed to sleep in and round-the-clock medical care, but he won’t budge. When he left the Army, things were in a constant state of flux for benefits and support. How he got lost in the shuffle, I’ll never know, but after a few calls and a push from a friend higher up in the food chain, I’d secured him a spot at the local VAs assisted living facility. All he had to do was show up.
“Consider it,” I urge.
“No,” he fires back. “Are we playing, or do you plan to sit there all night, gabbing and clucking at me like ladies at a beauty parlor?” Greg has always been blunt and to the point since the day we met. If he’s ready to move on, you can either comply, or he’ll just get up and leave. There is no middle ground with him.
“Fine. But this conversation isn’t over. Poker or Gin Rummy?”
Pulling out a worn deck of cards from his other jacket pocket, he opens the box and shuffles the deck, his fingers nimble for his age. Without so much as another word, he deals out a hand and lays the cards down in front of me.
“Poker. And the bet is more of those burgers.”
Greg cracks the first smile of the night. And true to his word, he earns himself at least a dozen burgers over the course of our playing time. I’m not what you would call a card shark, but I’m decent. Greg, however, is a pro. If I hadn't called off the last game when I did, I’d be buying stock in Whataburger to pay off my debt to him.
“Giving up easy today, kid?” he teases.
I motion to the setting sun outside the booth’s window and say, “It’s getting late.”
“Past your curfew, eh?”
“I don’t have a curfew,” I mumble back.
“Neither do I, so why the rush? I need to earn some more burgers before you start trying to beat me.”
“It’s been a long week,” I lie. Greg is still a capable guy, but I’d rather that both of us weren’t out on the streets this late at night.
Nodding, he gathers up the cards and pops the deck back into his pocket before we shove out of the booth.
“Don’t forget what you owe me, Grace. Extra cheese, and maybe some fries.”
I laugh at his demands. He knows I’ll get him whatever he wants, and that’s how our relationship has been since he rescued me. He may grumble about being able to take care of himself, but if he really needs it, he’ll give in soon enough. Blankets, coats, and gift cards, or cash for food, are just drops in the bucket to what I’d like to do for him. I just wish he’d be more open about the VA. But hopefully, I can convince him to go there soon.
“I won’t forget.”
“Don’t be late.”
“I guess we’ll see what happens,” I throw back over my shoulder. “Maybe I’ll have a date next Friday night.”
“Yeah, me,” he scoffs. “But if you do find yourself a man, he better come with you. I’m going to have some questions for him.”
Yeah, right. There has never been a man in my life, and I doubt there ever will be. No one wants to be involved with a workaholic who can never make plans.
Chuckling, I shake my head. “See you next week.”
He follows closely behind me until I reach my car and unlock the door. Satisfied that I’m safe, he turns, heading toward his tent home, but stops and waits until I’m inside my car. The engine of my Volvo starts up on the first turn of the ignition, and with a wave, I pull out of my parking spot. Standing on the corner, he watches until I disappear around the corner.
Most nights, I’d listen to music during my drive, but silence is more fitting for my current mood. The banter between Greg and me as we played earlier runs through my thoughts instead.
How many other veterans like him are on the streets right now because they fell through the cracks?
It breaks my heart to know these men and women put their lives on the line to protect our country, and we’ve failed