She raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
I nod. “I ran into a homeless kid, and, well, I helped him out a little.”
Her other eyebrow shoots up. “Oh. That was nice of you.”
I shrug. “I wanted to do more. He wouldn’t let me.”
Her gaze softens. “Paul, I’m all for you helping people in need, but are you sure you aren’t doing it because of Trey? Trying to make up for what happened?”
“No, of course not. But it doesn’t matter, does it? The boy needed help regardless. And I already know that nothing I do will make up for what happened to Trey.”
She nods, her eyes filling with tears, and I reach over to take her hand and give it a squeeze. She wipes her eyes with her other hand and sniffles. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry.” She takes a deep breath and gives me a small smile.
We continue to eat and she updates me on life as a real estate agent. I tell her how the fire station is coming along, and then she hits me with, “So, are you seeing anyone?”
I groan. “No.”
She sighs. “Paul, I hate that you are alone. Have you tried? You’re a great guy, there’s no reason for you to be without someone.”
“There’s every reason,” I tell her. “I don’t want to be with someone.”
She eyes me. “Look, I get that it's hard. Trust me. I didn't think anyone could love me enough to see past my mistakes either. But then I met Colin. He showed me that I was worthy of a second chance. And so are you.”
I shake my head and bite my lip. She squeezes my hand. “Well, when you change your mind, there’s some nice single women I know from work that I can introduce you to.”
I sigh and change the subject.
We talk a little bit more about the wedding and I leave thirty minutes later, saying goodbye with a kiss to her cheek this time. “Say hi to Colin for me,” I tell her.
“I will,” she says, and we part ways.
* * *
It’s a week later and I’m sitting on my sofa drinking my tea and reading, when I hear a knock on my door. It’s after ten pm and I have no idea who would be knocking at this hour, or honestly, who would be knocking, period. I’m not exactly popular.
Standing, I make my way to the door and peek through the peephole. My breath leaves me when I see the red-haired boy from the other day on my front porch. Did he walk the whole way here? Fuck.
I unlock the door and fling it open. He blinks at me as he sways slightly, his hand on the door jamb. Is he drunk? Or high? Or both? Shit.
“Evening, gramps,” he slurs. His pupils are dilated and his eyes bloodshot. His forehead is sweat-slicked and his face flushed. Fuck, what the hell is he on?
“Get in here,” I say, and grab his arm, yanking him inside before closing the door behind him.
The minute he steps inside, he vomits on the floor and then blinks at it like he isn’t sure how it got there. I grab his arm and drag him over to the kitchen where I push him down on a chair before reaching under the kitchen sink and sliding on rubber gloves, then grabbing the paper towels and some of my disinfectant spray before moving to clean up the mess. At least it landed on the tiled entryway and not on my carpet. As it is I have to hold back my gag reflex as I work.
“Nice place, pops,” he says, gazing around, his eyes lidded. His hiccups loudly and then belches.
I toss the soiled paper towels in the trash and immediately take it out to the garage. When I return he’s still at the table, his hand in front of his face, staring at it like an infant discovering their fingers for the first time. Fuck, he is plastered.
I grab another paper towel and get it damp, then make my way over to him and reach for his face to wipe off the vomit. He jerks back as soon as my hand moves in his direction.
“Hey, easy,” I say. “I just want to clean you off.” To my relief, he sits still and lets me clean his face, his green eyes locked on me. I toss that paper towel in the trash and then grab a glass and fill it with water and bring it to him.
He blinks at it for a while before his gaze meets mine. “You are awfully nice for an old guy,” he slurs. He takes the water and downs it, placing the glass back on the table. “That was refreshing. Is there more?”
“Yes, I haven’t run out of water yet.” I get him another glass and hand it to him.
