hug, will you go take a shower?” I ask. “I can get you some soap and a towel, and I can wash your clothes while you’re in there.”
He thinks about it, then gives me a toothless grin. “Yeah, I can take a shower.”
I walk around the desk and give him a hug, breathing through my mouth.
“Thanks for the candy bar and socks,” he says. “I want to marry you.”
“You’re very welcome. Are you staying at a shelter? It’s been really cold at night.”
He shrugs. “I like my tent.”
“Well come on, then. Let’s get you a hot shower.”
“You should wash my back.”
I lead him to the back of the building, where we have three separate bathrooms, each with a sink, toilet and shower stall.
“You’ll have to handle that yourself,” I tell Ray.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
I open a closet and take out a towel, bar of soap, clean sweatsuit, socks and underwear for Ray. I know all his sizes—we do this about once a month. I’m certain those monthly showers are the only ones he gets.
“Now remember, Ray, when you’re finished, you have to dry off, get dressed in these clothes, and put your used towel and dirty clothes in the metal bin right over there.” I point at it to remind him.
“I got it,” he says, starting to strip off his shirt already.
As I duck my head and leave the room as quickly as I can, he calls out, “You’ll be here when I’m done?”
“Yes, I’ll still be here.”
“Okay, hot stuff.”
I laugh to myself as I walk back to my office. Ray drives me crazy sometimes, but he can be very sweet. His family has no interest in helping him. I don’t know how anyone can look at a human being who needs things as basic as food and clean clothes and turn their back.
When I sit down behind my desk, I grab the collar of my shirt and bring it up to my nose to sniff it. I can’t tell if I smell like Ray, but I definitely feel like I need a shower now.
One of the first lessons Ty gave me when I started this job was that if you’re disgusted by people, you can’t empathize with them. You have to let go of thinking about yourself sometimes and think about what the person you’re helping needs. We don’t judge at Safe Harbor. That’s why we’re able to hand out clean needles to drug addicts. By meeting people where they’re at instead of where we think they should be, we can help them. And if and when they get ready for rehab, a job or housing, we’re there to support that, too.
I open my email and see that nothing new came in when I was gone. I grab my cell phone and see that I have two new texts. One is from my sister.
Julia: Come over tonight if you can. I need adult conversation. Andrew is in San Diego for work.
I write back.
Me: I can, but I have to stop by home first. Is 7 too late?
Julia: OMG anytime works, just please come. I can’t anymore with the Paw Patrol, mac and cheese and legos.
Me: Mac and cheese is delicious, you snob.
Julia: I eat it for lunch every day. My body is crying out for a vegetable. Any vegetable. Let’s get delivery from that Thai place.
Me: Okay, see you in a few hours.
Julia: Great!
There’s no contact name on the next text, just a number, and I have to scroll up to the text I sent last week to figure out that it’s from Olivier.
Daphne, hi. Apologies for taking so long to respond. I was on a week-long trip with my daughter and I suggested we leave our phones at home.
He has a daughter?
Me: I didn’t know you had a daughter.
Olivier: Yeah, Giselle. She’s 16.
Me: Where did you guys go?
Olivier: Paris. She just needed to get away for a bit. We had a great time. Ever been to Paris?
Me: Once, yes.
Olivier: I’m glad my poem gave you a smile. Will you reconsider on dinner?
I think it over, and realize I actually want to. Gah. I’m letting myself be charmed.
Me: If I do, I want to be upfront. I’m not looking for anything serious. I just got out of a long relationship. Can we just hang out?
Olivier: Of course. Just dinner. Saturday night?
Me: Okay.
Olivier: Great, I’ll make a reservation. Send me your address and I’ll pick you up. I’ll let you know on the time.
“Ray! No, Ray stop! Oh shit. Daphne!” Nina