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She does that head cock thing again. “Nineteen.”
Still too young to be out on the streets like this.
“What’s your name?” Her expression turns doubtful, and she looks like she might run again, so I add, “I only want your first name.”
It takes her a moment, but she finally answers. “Jersey.”
“Jersey.” I say her name slowly, it somehow fitting the girl in front of me. “I noticed you took some bandages several days ago. Are you okay?”
Her lips purse. “Yes, I’m fine.”
I’m not sure I believe her, but I leave that subject alone for now.
“Okay, how about you come by the church tomorrow so I can give you more food?”
She’s already shaking her head before I get the words out. “I won’t be bothering you anymore.”
She pushes herself away from the door like she’s getting ready to leave, so I call out, “Wait!” Thankfully, she leans back down. “Can you do me a favor, at least?” She doesn’t answer. “Go home. I can’t leave you until I know you’re safe.”
“Why do you care? I’m nobody to you.”
“You’re a child of the Lord,” I say gently. “It’s my duty as a servant of the Lord to watch after all of his children.”
She snorts, her eyes rolling to the ceiling then back to me. “The Lord forgot about me a long time ago.”
“God forgets no one, Jersey. You may feel alone, but you never are.”
She taps the window frame and takes a step back, still bent over, “If you say so. Anyway, I’ve got to go, and you need to leave before you scare everyone away. I have money I need to make.”
“Jersey!” I call.
Her eyes narrow in annoyance. “What?” she asks in exasperation.
I take my wallet out of the middle console and flip it open. “How much would it take to get you to go home?”
Her eyes move from mine to my wallet then back to me. Her bottom lip gets tugged between her lips.
She’s quiet for so long that I wonder if she’s not going to answer when she finally says, “Three-hundred.”
I’m already pulling bills out of my wallet. It’s a good thing I went by the bank today. I hand them over to Jersey. She takes them and counts them.
Her eyes jump to me. “This is five hundred. It’s too much.”
She tries to hand the money back to me, but I lean away from her. “Just promise you’ll leave here and go home.”
“Father—”
“Wesley,” I say. “My name is Wesley.” I don’t know why I give her my first name.
She glances at the money in her outstretched hand. “Why are you doing this? And don’t give me the ‘you’re looking out for God’s children’ speech again.” She lifts her eyes back to me. “This is more than that.”
“Honestly?”
“It’s a sin to lie,” she reminds me, her lips twitching.
“I don’t know. It feels like this is what I’m supposed to do.”
After a quiet moment, she takes the money and stuffs it between her breasts. I try to stop my eyes from watching her do it, but they move to her chest of their own accord. She catches me, and her lips quirk up.
