She hesitated, as if that was the last thing she expected me to say. “This going to take long?” she asked, with the same brash, uncertain edge.
“Not long at all.”
She shrugged as if she was doing me a favor, sitting down in the pew next to me. Unsure where to start, I waited for her to speak. I was patient, knowing if I waited long enough she’d explain her circumstances.
“You should know I’m a convicted felon.”
I shrugged. “Don’t suppose they tossed you in the clink for jaywalking,” I said, dismissing her words. In an effort to encourage her, I smiled. “Do you have somewhere to live?”
She stiffened and shook her head. “Not yet.”
“How about a job?”
It took her longer to answer this time. “No.” Her shoulders slumped forward before she quickly straightened again.
It would be easy enough to wish her the best and let her go. She wasn’t expecting any help and appeared to resent answering my questions. Another lost soul who drifted through the church doors. I couldn’t do much for her; we didn’t run a shelter and my resources were limited. It would be best to offer to pray with her and let her go. I opened my mouth to do exactly that and found I couldn’t. Even knowing the elders were likely to disapprove, I didn’t feel I could ignore her need. “Come with me.”
Her head snapped up as if she suspected I had some nefarious intention. “Where are you taking me?”
“I have a few contacts who might be able to help you.”
She stood, blinked a couple times, and then quickly sat back down. Placing her hand over her heart, she exhaled and went pale.
“Miss?”
“Sorry, I had a dizzy spell. I’m fine.”
Dizzy spell? “When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday.”
“They didn’t feed you in prison?” Silly question, because I knew they did.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
A more honest answer would have been that she was too anxious about being released to eat.
“No wonder you’re light-headed.” We had a small kitchen in the church office, but we didn’t keep much in the way of food there, other than a few snack items. “There are sandwiches in the office kitchen.” I didn’t mention that she’d be eating my lunch.
“I don’t need anything.”
This woman was too proud for her own good.
“Please, I hate to hurt Mary Lou’s feelings.” When she gave me a confused look, I clarified. “She’s the one who brings in the sandwiches. She makes my lunch and then adds extra.”
“She your wife or something?”
“No, my assistant. My wife died a few years back. Making my lunch is Mary Lou’s way of being sure I pause long enough to eat. You’d be doing us both a favor.”
“Yeah, right.”
She thought about my offer cautiously. I doubted anyone was going to pull anything over on her.
I started up the aisle, expecting her to follow, taking her through the side door that led to my office.
Mary Lou looked up from the computer screen and her eyes automatically went to the young woman who accompanied me.
“Mary Lou, I’d like you to meet…” I hesitated when I realized I hadn’t asked for the woman’s name.
“Shay,” she supplied. “Shay Benson.”
“Hello, Shay,” Mary Lou said, without missing a beat.
“I met up with Shay in the church. Would you show her into the kitchen while I make a few phone calls?” I asked.
“Of course.”
Mary Lou stood from behind her desk and led the way down the narrow hallway while I headed into my office.
“Oh, and Mary Lou,” I called out, “would you bring out the sandwiches? Shay will be joining me for lunch.”
Without a pause, Mary Lou agreed. She looked at Shay. “If you’ll come this way.”
The woman was a rare jewel. Her easy acceptance of me giving up my lunch made me appreciate her all the more.
Stepping into my office, I closed the door, sat down at my desk, and reached for my phone. The one place I felt would help Shay most was Hope Center, which was run by one of the gospel mission agencies in town. They had high standards, which meant Shay would need to pass a rigorous examination and drug testing.
The ladies’ group at the church provided dinner for the residents once a month, and I’d known Kevin Forester, the director, for several years. We hadn’t talked in longer than I could remember. It was time to correct that. Like so much else in my life, I’d let friendships slide since I’d lost Katie.
Within a matter of minutes I connected with Kevin. “Kevin,” I greeted, “Drew Douglas here.”
“Drew,” Kevin sounded genuinely happy to hear from me. “How are you, man?”
“Better,” I said, exaggerating the truth. “I need a favor.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I found a lost soul in my church this morning.” I went on to explain what I’d learned from Shay.
Kevin listened intently and then asked, “Do you know if she has a history of drug use?”
I hadn’t done street ministry in years but was fairly sure I’d recognize the signs. “Looking at her, I’d say no, but I can’t be sure.”
“Alcohol?”
“She actually looks pretty good. Again, it’s difficult to tell, but like I said, she looks clean.”
He hesitated. “She mentioned a felony charge?”
“Yes. I didn’t ask her what it was about and she didn’t offer.”
“I can find out easily enough. It’s all a matter of public record.”
I was curious myself but would wait for her to volunteer the information.
“Did you tell her it’s a yearlong program?” Kevin asked me, breaking into my thoughts.
“No. I didn’t want to get her hopes up until I learned if you had a free bed.”
Kevin exhaled. “If you’d called thirty minutes ago, I would have had to turn you away. We have a no-tolerance drug policy here and we found meth in one of the residents’ rooms.”
The timing impressed me. An opening right when one was needed. “Can I bring her by for an interview?”
“No guarantees.”
That went without saying.
“Got you. I don’t have any skin in this.” It was important that Kevin understand I wouldn’t take a refusal personally. Shay’s acceptance was up to her and her willingness to work 24/7 in a life-skills program. “If she’s approved, great. If not, then I did what I could.”
“Right,” Kevin said. “Bring her by this afternoon and I’ll have my staff do an evaluation. It’ll be a few days before we’ll be ready to accept her, if we do.”
I wasn’t sure Shay had anyplace to sleep and said as much. I hated the thought of her spending the night on the street.
“I’ll get her into one of the shelters until we get the test results back,” Kevin said.
“I’d appreciate whatever you can do.”
Kevin hesitated. “It’s been awhile.”
“It has,” I agreed.
“How are you, man?”
“Good.”
“Drew,” he said, unwilling to let it drop. “How. Are. You?”
I hesitated. There’d been a time when Kevin and I were close. We’d attended seminary together, played basketball, and were ushers in each other’s weddings. I’d lost track of the last time we’d talked.
“Empty,” I admitted, feeling like a failure. “I feel empty.”
“You personally bringing this woman by this afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
“Block out the rest of your day.”
“Can’t,” I argued. “I’ve got meetings set up. There’s an electrician coming by to…”
“Cancel it. No excuses.”
“Kevin…”
“Cancel those appointments.”
Groaning, I wanted to argue with him. I’d waited a week for this electrician and didn’t know how long it would take for him to manage to return. Furthermore, this other meeting was important. It was with Alex Turnbull, one of the elders, who wanted to rehash the budget numbers. With attendance down, giving had dropped substantially. Adjustments had to be made.