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She and the architect pointed out spots that needed to be reinforced, as well as certain areas that needed to have walls taken down. Rhi made sure there was enough space for private shower spaces, along with areas sufficient for beds that didn’t make the clients feel like sardines packed into a bunker.
There was an area where a downspout was loose, allowing rain from the storm to trickle inside and sprinkle over the workers. It also scattered over Rhi, dampening and frizzing her neat look. But she remained unfrazzled. It was enchanting.
“What do you think of all this?”
The architect had gone back to work on the leaky pipe with their appointed plumber when Rhi crossed her arms and regarded Mars. Part of him was embarrassed about how little he knew about the process. He truly was used to throwing money at things and watching the problem disappear like a magic trick.
“I think you've got it all handled,” he said, sticking his hands into his pockets.
Rhi came to him and smiled warmly. She wasn’t mocking him, and that made all the difference.
“Can I show you something?” she asked softly.
She held her hand out to him, and without a second thought, Mars took it, his bear purring softly. Silently, she led them both outside, opening the umbrella as they moved through the misty streets. They arrived quietly at another shelter a few blocks down from the one being built, and Rhi’s hand lingered on the door handle as they stood in the rain.
“I have worked with over twenty clients who have stayed here,” Rhi said, her eyes glazing over. “But the people who work here … they are the miracle makers. Come.”
Rhi led the way into a building that needed upgrades of its own but was filled with spirited energy and welcoming smiles the moment they entered. She was greeted by the staff with joyful hugs and expressions of surprised glee, along with a good handful of clients she knew.
Mars watched her, that sense of detachment being replaced by a glowing understanding of the people’s plight. It took him a moment to realize that they weren’t at a homeless shelter but a domestic violence one.
“This place houses people seeking refuge from a violent partner,” Rhi said, leading him into a group therapy session that had already started. “It’s open to anyone who needs a space to breathe before starting a new life.”
Mars watched as people of all genders and ages, along with little children of the victims, spoke about their harrowing experiences. It was disturbing to hear what people were capable of when they truly believed, in their heart of hearts, that violence was the only way to maintain some semblance of control in their lives.
His eyes had truly been opened, and he realized that there was so much more to giving to charities than the simple check writing he had been doing for years.
They spent the afternoon there with both Rhi and Mars helping out at lunch and organizing donated clothing before heading home for the evening. The drive back was tranquil, with Mars musing about the time he had wasted not giving much of a shit for those less fortunate than him.
When they went inside, Mars noticed that Rhi was still damp from the rain. He suggested they take a long bath together or maybe even a shower.
But Rhi shook off the umbrella, then shook her head. “I’m okay, Mars. I think I’ll boil the kettle and have some tea on the balcony.”
Mars nodded, sensing something else swirled inside his beloved’s mind. It was something he had to remedy fast or risk disconnection.
Rhi made tea for the both of them as they sat on the terrace that overlooked the landscape of his property. The overhang over the roof blocked the fog of the moisture, but Rhi had taken her mug and stood at the stone railing, looking at the ridiculous amount of luxury Mars had been afforded so easily.
He spoke abruptly, almost sounding like an urgent bark.
“What do you think of me?”
The rain had mostly stopped, with lingering moistness in the air that aided in making Rhi’s hair come loose from her ponytail. She released it and shook it back and forth before turning to him, leaning against the stone with her steaming cup of earl gray.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” Mars retorted. “You must think I’m just some rich scumbag who's never seen the most painful part of living.”
Rhi remained still, unshaken, as the steam from her mug rose into her face. Her expression was that of curiosity, a resistance to judgment.
She sighed before speaking, which made Mars’s heart pick up the pace.
“I don’t think you’re a scumbag, Mars. I know I’ve lived a life of caring for others. It was drilled into me. Maybe because I’m a woman, maybe because of my family, maybe both.”
She walked toward him as he sat on one of the reclining patio chairs. Even in his discomfort, Mars noticed how straight her posture was and how formidable her character remained in the face of conflict.
She kept the mug under her chin as she spoke with unwavering conviction.
“But I’m not going to lie to you. It is difficult for me to imagine living a life with so much wealth and using very little of it to help those with so much less.”
