I strolled down the sidewalk, with the drawcord backpack of wet clothes cinched tight, not in any hurry to start running. Instead, I thought back to Hana and Mr. Covington. How they interacted with the kids watching TV and drinking their hot cocoa made me smile. Even though I’d only been there an hour or so, it was clear that the shelter was an incredibly important part of Woodhaven.
It had been those two things that’d been on my mind and heart for a long time now. Sadness over Emmett, which I didn’t think would ever go away, but also, anger. At Preach.
Mostly because of my hand, but also how he was falling so far out of his alleged normal personality. Hana and Mr. Covington couldn’t say enough good things about him, despite the fact that he’d not shown up for his volunteer shift.
They were so forgiving. Merciful. It was intriguing. Also a little convicting.
I made it to the end of the block from Helping Hands, then stopped to cross the street. To my left, a black Jeep sat parked against the curb, and Preach stood there, leaning against the front of it, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.
I glanced around, then looked back at him, not really trusting my sight. I mean, why would he be standing there after no-showing for his shift?
“Hey,” he said, standing straighter, then shifting his weight from foot to foot.
As I neared him, it was obvious he was in rough shape. Bags under his bloodshot eyes, rumpled clothing, and a smudge of dirt on his left cheek. He either had a bad case of the flu or he’d been out partying again.
Partying was more likely.
“What are you doing?” I stopped about ten feet from him.
“Coffee?” He offered me one. “Well, it’s a latte.”
“Um…thanks.” I took the drink, not really sure what to think.
“Wasn’t sure if you drank milk or took almond milk or whatever…so it’s your standard latte.”
“That’s fine. Thank you.”
“I talked to Hana. I told her I was coming in to serve, but she told me to track you down and drive you home instead.Thatwas how I could serve today.”
I laughed. “I’ve only just met Hana, but I can totally picture her saying that.”
“So…can I give you a ride home?” His voice was soft, but that could have been because he was so hungover that he wasn’t able to stomach loud noises.
“No, I’m good. I was kind of looking forward to the run home.” At that very moment, a chilly drop of rain splashed on my cheek.
And then another.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Come on, it’s starting to rain again.” Preach ran around to his door. “I checked the radar, and there’s another round of storms headed our way.”
Not wanting to get soaked for the second time, I all but dove into the open passenger-side seat.
He didn’t start the car, though, which was weird. He gripped the wheel and stared forward.
“Why didn’t you show up to Helping Hands?” I settled into my seat and took a sip of the hot coffee.
He let out a sigh but didn’t answer me.
“You look like shit…”
“Tell me what you really think.” He chuckled and faced forward again.
“Yeah, well, it’s part of my charm.”
After a few long breaths, he said, “I’m really sorry, for everything.”
“Wow,” I said before I could check myself, but it’d taken me by surprise. He was apologizing to me? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.