AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What about condoms, do you supply those?” she asked.
“Oh, my goodness,” Rita cried. “We’re on church property, so surely that isn’t allowed.”
Luke reached into his pants pocket for a handful of condoms and, with an easy toss, splattered them down the table. “We have no religious affiliation, Mrs. Tubergen, and not only do we allow it, it’s imperative. We’re fighting to keep these kids alive and well, and we can’t ignore the spread of HIV.”
Joe and Rita exchanged a frantic glance and, after an uncomfortably long pause, Joe rose to help his wife from her seat. “Maybe it was the angel name that confused us, but we just don’t belong here. Will you excuse us, please?”
“Of course.” Luke waited until the Tubergens had passed through the door, then pulled Rita’s chair around to the front of the table and sat. “If anyone else is squeamish about remaining, please speak up now so we don’t waste any more of my valuable time or yours.”
Ron just shrugged, and the women across from him shook their heads. Catherine nodded to encourage him to continue. He leaned back in his chair, but despite his relaxed pose, he punched out every word.
“Our goal isn’t to become a homeless shelter, but to provide a safe environment as a drop-in center, as much comfort as possible, and the constant reassurance that somebody cares. For some kids, that’s more than they’ve ever had.”
As Luke continued to define Lost Angel’s mission, Catherine refrained from asking how he kept from being overwhelmed by the enormity of the problems the center addressed, but clearly something drove him, and she doubted it was mere altruism. There was a real pride in his voice as he described several kids who had succeeded in getting off the streets, but his sorrow was just as keen when he cited more than one tragic failure.
Catherine swiftly realized she’d made a tactical error in taking the chair at the far end of the table, for it placed her directly opposite Luke. Seated along the side, she could have more easily avoided his often piercing gaze. She’d never met anyone with such a challenging nature and wondered what had possessed him to go into psychology, where he must surely be misplaced.
His dark brown hair was laced with gray, and he’d obviously been too busy the past weekend to get a haircut, but now that she’d seen him a second time, she had to admit his hair was no longer than many men wore theirs. Had she not had a stinging sample of his prickly personality, she would have considered him attractive, but she found it difficult to imagine him showing a woman any tenderness or relaxing long enough to make love.
“Mrs. Brooks?” Luke called.
Catherine feared her expression must have betrayed the wildly inappropriate directions of her thoughts. She promptly forced a pleasant smile. “Yes?”
“You were frowning slightly, and I wondered if perhaps you had an objection to our strict drug-free policy?”
“Why, no, absolutely none,” Catherine assured him.
“Good, because I won’t compromise on it.”
“Nor should you,” Ron Flanders concurred.
Catherine didn’t draw a deep breath until Luke resumed his lecture on the center, but it took awhile longer for her incriminating blush to subside. When they finally left the room to tour the rest of the facility, she moved to the back of the small group to again stay as far away from Luke as possible. He actually laughed a time or two as he showed them the rooms heaped with donated clothing, but there was no real mirth in the sound.
When they reached the kitchen, Luke introduced Mabel Shultz, the full-time cook, and stepped back to allow her to describe the type of volunteers she required. Alice Waggoner and Betty Murray immediately asked if they could stay to help with the lunch preparations.
“Of course, you may,” Luke assured them. “Just come by the office before you go home and set up your schedule with Pam.”
He led the way out of the kitchen and through the church hall. Long tables filled the room, and perhaps two dozen teens were clustered about in small groups playing board games while several othe
rs sat by themselves reading dog-eared paperbacks.
Beverly Snodgrass wore a cloying perfume that made Catherine sneeze, and as they entered the sanctuary, she moved to avoid the annoying scent. Purposely lagging behind, she paused to study a remarkably beautiful stained glass window.
The pews had been removed from the large rectangular room, and Luke walked to the center before turning to face the new volunteers. “I hate to disappoint you, Mrs. Brooks, but the windows aren’t on today’s agenda. Before you leave, ask Pam for a pamphlet detailing their history and subject matter. You’re sure to find it fascinating.”
Embarrassed by his continual scolding, Catherine hurriedly caught up with the others. Then she had to stifle another sneeze. “I’m sorry. Did I miss something important?”
“Not yet. As I explained earlier, Lost Angel has no religious affiliation, but we’ve found the kids are far more comfortable using the hall where we serve meals for filling out job applications, playing cards and board games. So we’ve reserved this space for counseling. Perhaps it’s merely the high ceiling and stained glass windows, but I’ve found even the most defensive kids are remarkably candid when we meet in here.”
Beverly glanced toward the high exposed beams. “Yeah, it is kinda creepy.”
Ron nudged Catherine with his elbow, but she couldn’t believe Beverly had misunderstood Luke’s meaning. “I imagine the stillness and subdued light naturally inspire trust,” she offered for Beverly’s benefit.
“Precisely,” Luke agreed. “Now let’s go out front, and we’ll return to the office that way.”
As they moved through the heavy double doors and stepped out into the sun, the kids lounging on the steps turned to look up at them. Catherine instantly recognized the girl with the cat and decided the poor animal looked no better fed than when she’d last seen him. There were several boys in the baggy shorts, over-sized hockey shirts and baseball caps worn backward that were popular everywhere. One such kid was out on the walk practicing stunts on a skateboard. That someone so young would even try to live on his own broke her heart.
“I like your boots,” a girl called out. Her long blonde hair was covered by a denim hat with a rolled brim. She was wearing purple high-topped basketball shoes with her faded print dress and hugged a backpack stuffed with her belongings.
