rights at the office—look at what I did this Christmas! I genuinely wanted to do something positive. And while it’s not all tinsel and snowflakes, as Hunter said, I find I’m okay with the profanity and vicious comments. This is life. This is real.
“First timer?” the woman next to me asks.
I turn to her with a nod. “Can you tell?”
She offers a warm smile. “Your eyes went wild when that man kicked your table.”
“It startled me, but I’m okay.”
“It’s nice to see someone who’s still excited to volunteer, especially here. You can get jaded after a while. I’m Sheryl, by the way,” she says as she picks up a tray and moves it over.
“Katie.” I give her a small wave. “How long have you been volunteering?” I ask her as I place a piece of chicken onto a man’s plate.
He bows his head in thanks.
“Twenty-three years. I’ve been called every name in the book and had my heart broken at seeing good men on the way to reformation turn around and throw it away after one night on a bender. It can make you feel like all this effort is for nothing.”
I didn’t think of how the volunteers might become attached to the men.
“If it brings sadness, why do you keep doing it?”
She says hello to a gentleman who comes for some string beans. They exchange pleasantries as he walks along. “It’s the human experience. For every man who falls off the wagon, there are so many more who are redeemed. While I’ve seen some men fall, I’ve seen many more rise.”
I smile in understanding. “Will all of them sleep here tonight?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have the capacity for everyone. Some will get turned out to the street.” She motions her tongs toward the door. “Do you see that man in the blue sweater?”
I look over to where she’s pointing at Hunter. He’s standing at the door with another man, shaking hands as he enters. The man is wearing a parka and snow hat yet looks frozen to the bone. Hunter rubs his back and helps him find a place in line.
“That’s Hunter. I work with him,” I tell her.
“He’s a good guy. He called yesterday and said he was donating a hundred coats and blankets to the shelter. He even brought some hand and foot warming inserts to give out.”
Her words baffle me.
“Hunter did that?”
“Yes. That kind of generosity is astounding. It’ll help a few of the men stay alive.”
I glance over at him. He’s currently trying to calm another man who seems to be having a fit, probably about the long line for food. As he gets the gentleman to settle down, eliciting a smile from him even, I find my heart beating rapidly.
“He’s full of surprises.”
The woman beside me nudges my arm. “Are you two an item?”
I look over at her and shake my head, going back to serving the people in front of me. “No. He’s not …” I’m about to say my type, but that’s not entirely the truth.
He’s handsome, charming, funny, and as I’ve learned today, giving. He’s attentive—that’s for sure—and the man can kiss.
It all seems so foolish—to be yearning for someone who, just days ago, I saw as the opposite of what I wanted. Afraid and shy, I looked at the world through rose-colored glasses, imagining Branson as my prince. But the real hero of my story is Hunter.
Even as I think this in my head, I know it’s crazy. Crazy to go from wanting one man to the next so quickly. Crazy to abandon my feelings so hastily.
And yet maybe there is a chance Hunter and I can be something more.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking is probably wrong,” she says.
I look at her with a tilt of my head.
“From the way he’s staring at you right now, I’d say he’s more than just a friend.”
When my eyes meet his from across the room, it’s with a fiery power and a deep conviction. As his caramel ones stare at mine, I see confirmation. There is most definitely something brewing between us.
I lift a hand and wave to him. He runs his fingers over his jaw and smiles back. A man shoving his plate toward me, waiting for his dinner, interrupts our moment.
I get right back to work, serving and smiling, all while chancing casual glances at Hunter. And every time I search for him, he’s staring at me with a grin.
As the hours pass, I continue to serve food and prep the table