Chapter 8
The next morning, dressed and ready for her day, she poured her coffee into one of her large mugs. It was a routine of her morning that she refused to give up. She had a collection of mugs with different sayings on them. Each morning, she stood and stared into her cabinet, choosing the mug of the day carefully as though it had magical powers. She always set her alarm early enough to sit in her kitchen and inhale dark roasted coffee, sweetened liberally with flavored creamer.
Today’s choice was a blue mug with Here we fucking go again… I mean, Good Morning. Grinning, she savored her first sip, her eyes drifting closed as the warm, creamy deliciousness hit her taste buds. When she finally drained the last drop, she glanced at the clock on the stove and hurried to rinse her cup, eager to start her day.
As soon as she stepped into work, there would be fires to put out, emergencies to deal with, and problems to rectify. She grabbed her coat, looped her purse and computer bag over her shoulder, then locked the doors as she left her apartment. She walked down the stairs and, ignoring the door leading to the outside, unlocked another door that led into her workplace.
Living in such proximity to her job was convenient and cost-effective. Several small apartments were set up for on-site staff when the old school was turned into Bright Futures Home. Two were for the house parents—one on the girls” side and another for the boys” side. An additional apartment was tucked away next to the main building. While she wasn’t considered to be part of the twenty-four-hour staff, the reality was that her presence was occasionally needed at all hours. Plus, it gave her affordable housing, allowing her to save for her eventual dream home.
“Hey, Paula,” she greeted as she entered the lobby. “Anything from the evening?”
Each morning, Paula would receive a report from the night guard as to any new information. The house parents would”ve called Charity if there had been a major problem, but she liked to know everything that happened at the Bright Futures Home.
Paula shook her head, her curls bouncing as she smiled a welcome greeting. “Nope, not here. Can’t say the same about you and Mr. Holy-moly-gorgeous from last night.”
Charity widened her eyes, making a playful face, and shook her head. “I’m not talking about that!”
“Fair enough,” Paula huffed before adopting a more serious tone. “The night guard said it was all quiet.” Her brow furrowed as she looked back down at the paper in front of her. “Although, he noted two teenagers who walked by the front door several times but never approached.”
Charity wondered if it was the two boys from last evening’s pizza theft fiasco. Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug. “Well, hopefully, they’ll muster up the courage to try us out if they need a place.” She walked behind the reception desk and into her office. Whereas her apartment was her calm and organized sanctuary, her office usually resembled organized chaos.
Piles of folders were stacked on her desk. The bookcase to the side held binders filled with information concerning the center, forms, laws, studies, and various needs to run the center.
At the top of the files on her desk was one titled Security system: analysis and implementation. She was grateful for the center”s funding, but there had been a call for more security. Several months ago, someone tried to break in the front door after hours. The evening guard had stopped them, but they ran away. With the call for more electronic security, she’d had no idea how she would be able to afford more. She had applied for another grant but had not heard back. Money was a precious commodity since there was never enough and always a need for more.
It was then that one of the older men who worked at the home had spoken to a friend of his. George told her that he knew of a security company that would take certain cases if needed, and the company could make it happen. She had appreciated George’s diligence in attempting to speak to his friend but promptly placed the idea out of her head, assuming no one would want to donate the money and time to secure a place like the center.
Just when she was out of ideas, she received a call from the man George had recommended. Carson Dyer’s company, Lighthouse Security Investigations West Coast, offered various services, including the study of security system needs and the installation. She listened with interest but needed to make sure Mr. Dyer understood that the center could not pay. Or at least not until she determined whether she could receive grant money for the need.
It was then that he had dropped his amazing offer to her. They did several jobs each year pro bono for the community. After the recommendation had come from a reputable source and they’d completed their own investigation, they wanted to do the work for the center… at no cost.
She was floored at their generosity, especially having looked at the high cost of the system he was proposing. The initial plans were created after she met with Mr. Dyer and a few of his employees. While much of the technical terminology was unfamiliar to her, she was confident they would do an excellent job.
At the sound of a knock on her doorframe, she jerked her head up and smiled at the sight of two of the dearest women she could ever imagine working with—Helen McCabe and Mary Tobiasson. When the center began, she needed the assistance of full-time employees who would agree to live on-site. Having studied other homeless youth centers, the use of house parents was common. What was more difficult was finding individuals who would agree to this type of employment and could also pass the stringent background evaluations.
George McCabe and Robert Tobiasson had been friends since they’d been in the military many years before. Once out of the service, they both worked various jobs before retiring. Robert”s wife, Mary, had been a teacher in the local school system for many years and found retirement too dull. George’s wife, Helen, had been in retail for many years, eventually moving into human resources for a large company. When they heard about the center, both couples applied for the position of house parents.
They were not only employees at the center but had quickly become very good friends and, in many ways, surrogate parents to Charity.
Seeing the women standing at the door with their arms crossed, she tilted her head to the side. “And what brings you to my door so early?” She leaned forward, and her muscles tensed. While the two women’s countenances didn’t give evidence of a problem, Charity tried to be prepared for anything in dealing with teenagers every day. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
“No,” they said in unison as the two women walked in and sat down in her office. “We just wanted to check on you. We didn’t see you later yesterday and hoped that maybe you had a date.”
Barking out laughter, Charity shook her head. “A date?”
“Well, Paula mentioned…” Mary’s words faded as she sighed.
“I’m not sure I remember what those are.”
Mary and Helen shared a look before returning their worried expressions to her.
“That is exactly what we’re talking about,” Helen said. “You can’t devote everything to your job.”
Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
Neither woman cracked a smile, and then Mary added, “We may live and work at the center, but we are both married and have had our share of living.”
Charity opened her mouth, but Mary threw her hand up, palm out, halting the words ready to burst forth from Charity”s mouth.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Helen exclaimed. “We’re not implying that you need a man, or a woman for that matter, to be fulfilled.”
“Absolutely not,” Mary agreed. “We just mean that we have something else in our lives besides our work. And that’s all we want for you. Go out with friends. Have a date with someone. Go for a walk or a run that doesn’t just involve looking for kids in need and trying to help everyone.”
She understood their words came from a place of love, but she had no idea how to pack anything more into the twenty-four hours of each day. Last night flooded her mind, and her cheeks pinkened.
Mary leaned forward, her eyes eager. “What’s that look for?”
“Well, I did go out to eat last night.” Both women’s eyes lit up. “Granted, it was by myself.”
“Good for you,” Helen said, her smile wide.
Before they had a chance to grill her further, Paula popped her head through the doorway.
“Sorry to barge in, but a new teen has just walked into reception.”
She stood and grabbed her tablet. “Sorry, ladies, but you’ll have to hear the rest of my story later.”
“We’ll hold you to that!” Mary said before she and Helen headed down the hall.
Stepping into the reception area, she smiled at the sight of the younger boy from last night. Quickly scanning the lobby to see if the older brother was with him, the young boy appeared to be alone. “Hi,” she greeted with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”
His lips were tightly pressed as his gaze darted around the room before returning to land on her.
“Would you like to sit and talk for a little while? I promise it will just be you and me. This is a safe place for you.”
He shrugged, then jerked his head up and down. “We can talk. Yeah. That’d be okay.” His eyes widened as he sucked in a quick breath. “But I don’t want this gettin’ back to nobody.”
She nodded her affirmation. “Just you and me. I have a small conference room right here that we can go in.”
He ducked his head and followed her into the small room. There was a table with four chairs, and she let him pick where he was most comfortable sitting. He opted for the chair in the corner, away from the visibility of the door. She kept the door partially open for safety reasons and then slid into a seat across from him.
“I’m going to let you tell me what you want to tell me,” she said. “I’m not going to ask you for more than you want to say.”
His gaze roamed around the room, looking at everything except her.
“I really would just like to get to know you better.” She waited patiently, knowing that sometimes it took a lot of silence to build trust before one of the young people explained their needs.
Finally, he looked at her and sighed. “Thank you,” he whispered.
She continued to wait patiently but nodded. Often, adults fill the silence with too many words for kids. She had found that most kids just wanted to be heard, not lectured to.
“You didn’t have to give us your dinner. We had the pizzas. I’m sorry you went hungry.”
“I had already eaten my dinner,” she explained. “What I gave you was extra.”
He nodded, seeming to give great thought to her words. “It was nice of you to do that.”
She remained silent, a soft smile on her face.
With trust building a little more, he continued. “I was scared. I thought if that man caught us, we’d surely go to jail.”
She nodded encouragingly. After a moment, she asked, “Did you have any questions for me? Are you interested in seeing what we might be able to do for you?”
He hesitated, and she could feel emotions pouring from him. It was tangible, a feeling radiating from him so hard she wanted to reach out and take his hand. But she held back, giving the power to him.
“I wouldn’t want to be here without my brother.”
“Your brother seemed good to you last evening when he helped you over the fence. He didn’t just run away and leave you.”
The young man’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. “He’d never leave me. He always says, ‘Whatever happens, we do it together.’”
“It’s really nice to have somebody like that in your life. Someone who will help you. Reach out and hold your hand when you need it.”
He offered a tiny smile for the first time, and she felt that straight to her heart. “By the way, most people around here call me Charity.”
She waited, and after another moment, he said, “My name is Ramzi.”
Smiling, she stuck out her hand. He left her hanging for a moment and then, blushing as he dipped his chin, put his hand in hers. She gave it a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Ramzi.”
Taking a chance, she pressed forward as easily as she could. “Last night, you mentioned that you’d only get a few bites before having to give it up?—”
He immediately stiffened, and she tried a different tactic. “I assumed you were sharing your food.”
His lips pinched together into a thin line, then he just shrugged. He stood, his gaze once more darting around before landing on her. “I just came to thank you. That’s all I need.”
“Okay. I appreciate you coming by and hope I get a chance to see you again sometime.”
His brow furrowed, and he looked around as though expecting someone to jump out from the corners. Finally, lifting his gaze back to hers, he asked, “You’re not gonna try to talk me into staying?”
“Not at all. I can give you all sorts of reasons you’d be safe here, can go back to school here, and learn how to take care of yourself in a way that’s legal and safe. I can show you around the cafeteria where there are meals every day. But my job is not to drag you in here kicking and screaming. My job is to be here if this is where you want to be.”
He seemed to ponder her words for a long moment, then started toward the door. She followed him, and they crossed through the reception area and stopped at the outer door.
“Keep in mind, Ramzi. Sometimes you can turn things around by simply accepting a helping hand. And, since you and I now know each other, I hope you’ll stop by occasionally to say hello whenever you find that it’s time for home.”
He held her gaze, this time not looking away. Then he jerked his chin up before slipping through the door. She watched as he looked both ways before walking down the sidewalk.
As she had so often with others, she stayed as they left, staring at the closed door for a few minutes. Finally, Paula wrapped her arm around Charity”s shoulders.
“You can’t make them want a home, you know?”
Paula often said the same thing to her when she stared at the door after a session much like she’d just had with Ramzi. In truth, it happened almost every day. “I know. But that doesn’t keep me from trying or wishing.”