She winks at me. "Good, dear. Oh, and thank you for the sweater. Where did you find such a beautiful thing?"
I look over and see Zoe holding it, along with the rest of Gladys' stuff.
"Miles got it for you," I say. "Along with a new blanket. He did some shopping."
She goes over to him and gives him a hug. "Such a nice young man. You take care of my girl."
"I will." He pats her back. "You get better, okay?"
She nods, then walks down the alley to meet up with Zoe, who's packing up her van. Zoe helps Gladys into the front seat, then waves at us from the street. "I'll call and let you know how she's doing."
"Thanks!" Miles says.
We watch them drive off, and I feel a wave of relief knowing Gladys is with someone who I know will take good care for her. I also feel relieved that someone isn't me. I love Gladys, and I don't mind taking care of her, but it's a lot of responsibility and sometimes it gets to be too much. Even just one night off is like a weight being lifted off my shoulders.
16
Raine
"Need to bring anything?" Miles asks.
"For what?"
"For staying over. Get what you need and we'll go."
"Oh, I'm not really staying with you. I just said that so Zoe and Gladys wouldn't worry."
"Raine, you can't stay out here tonight. It's too cold."
"I have to get used to it. It'll be winter soon and it'll be a lot colder than this."
"You'll be off the streets by winter. You won't have to deal with the cold."
"Maybe, or I might still be here," I say, knowing I probably will. The past six months I've had no luck finding a job. I don't even know where to start looking.
"We need to work on that," Miles says. "For now, you're coming with me." He walks to the tent. "You can have my bed. I'll take the couch."
"Wait, what are you doing?" I ask as he goes in the tent.
"What do you want in here?"
I join him in the tent. "I'll get it myself. You need to get out. You're not supposed to be in here."
"Why not?" He lies on his side, smiling at me. "I like it in here. It's like camping when I was a kid."
"Believe me, it's not the same." I lie down and stare up at the tent. "I never thought I'd be living like this."
"Hey." He moves over until he's right beside me, propped up on his side, looking down at me. "It'll get better. This is only temporary."
"You keep saying that but what if it's not?"
"I'll help you. I know you don't want my help but you at least need to consider it."
"Even if I wanted you to help me, you couldn't. I need a job, and that's something I need to find myself."
"Yeah, but you're more likely to get a job if you have a place to shower and sleep and wash your clothes."
"I'm not living with you, Miles."
"It would only be temporary. Until you can save up enough for your own place."
"That could take forever."
"It'll take even longer if you're living on the streets. All I'm saying is to think about it."
I look into his eyes, feeling his body beside mine, and a heat surges through me. The kind that makes me want him to kiss him, or do more than that. His face is right above me. If he lowered it by just a few inches, he could kiss me. But he won't because he doesn't think I Iike him that way. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't think he should make a move. I really can't tell what he's thinking. I just want him to kiss me.
"I'll let you pack your stuff," he says, backing away and crawling out of the tent.
I pack a few things in my backpack and we walk to his building.
"You care if I take a short nap?" he asks as we go in his apartment. "I only got like three hours sleep. I can barely stay awake."
"Go ahead," I say, dropping my backpack on the floor.
"Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Or if you want to take a shower, there's extra towels in the bathroom."
"Where's the bathroom?"
"Over there." He points to a door that's partially closed, just below his lofted bedroom.
"Your bedroom's up but the bathroom's down?" I glance around the open room. "This is an odd setup. I mean, I like it but the layout is a little strange."
"It's supposed to be hip and cool, but I agree, the layout could be better. Need anything before I go upstairs?"
"No. I'll just hang out down here. I promise I'll be quiet."
"Don't worry about it. Watch TV if you want. I can sleep through the noise."
He goes up to his bedroom. He hasn't put a curtain up yet so I can see the entire room, which is just a bed, dresser, and nightstand. He collapses down on the bed. He's exhausted. I am too. I wish I could go up and join him, and I would if we were a couple. A dating couple. But we're not, so I stay downstairs and go sit on the couch.
Turning on the TV, I lower the volume and flip through the channels. I stop on a travel show, drawn in by pictures of white sand beaches and turquoise water. I've never been to a beach but always wanted to go. Rob promised me he'd take me someday but it was just another one of his lies.
I shut off the TV and walk to the window to look out at the city. From the view from his window I can see the park where I used to hang out during the day, waiting for the office workers to toss their trash so I could take whatever they didn't eat. I haven't done that for weeks now. Miles has given us enough food that I haven't needed to sort through the trash. But it won't last. He can't feed Gladys and me forever.
Grabbing my backpack from the floor, I bring it to the bathroom and pull out some clothes. The bathroom is small but nice with a granite topped vanity and walk-in shower. It reminds me of the house I used to live in. I quickly shake those memories away and tell myself it's not the same.
I grab a towel from the cabinet and start the shower. The last time I showered was right before I left the hospital. Since then, I've had to wash off using sinks in public restrooms. I've gotten pretty good at getting clean that way but it's nothing like the feel of a hot shower. I step inside and take a long deep breath as the water runs over me and steam surrounds me.
I used to take this for granted. A shower was just something you do every morning. Sometimes it seemed like a chore and I just wanted to hurry and get it over with. But now? It's a luxury. Something I will never take for granted again. Same with laundry. I used to hate doing it but now I'd give anything for the chance to wash my clothes. Miles said I could use his machine and I might take him up on the offer.
The shower has two shelves but only one of them has stuff on it. There's a bar of soap and I reach for it, then wonder if maybe I shouldn't. Would Miles care if I used his soap? It's my only option so I take it and begin lathering up, breathing in the fresh scent and savoring how great it feels to be clean again. The type of clean that comes from a shower instead of just wiping myself down with hand soap and paper towels in a public restroom.