Page 53 of Salvation

Things are fairly quiet for a few days. The shelter has a few spots open up as a couple of my families have secured employment and have found a safe place to live. I’m looking through paperwork and praying that the openings stay up.

I love my job. The shelter is my life and I love helping these women, but openings mean that women and children don’t need my help and that makes me happy. After all, this is a battered women’s shelter. For it to be full, women and children have to be abused.

It’s been six days, and no one has come by seeking shelter. I know better than to get used to it. The lull never lasts, but when this happens, it does make me happy. Of course, that could also mean that the women and children needing my help are being brutalized or just haven’t quite reached the point where they know they need to seek help.

I choose to think happy thoughts though.

Silver lining.

I haven’t heard from Gabrial, but that too is not completely unusual. It can mean that something is just going on that I don’t need, or want, to be involved in. Davey is here… in the lobby. He’s been here every day and other than the night I stayed with Luke; he’s been on the couch at my place. I offered him the guest room, but he declined and said he has a better vantage point from the couch.

I didn’t even argue with him. Luke has popped in a couple of times for coffee and yesterday he brought me lunch. But he’s busy working his cases, too.

We all have jobs and lives. But he makes it a point to at least call every day to check in. Gabrial… not so much.

I don’t worry. He always eventually shows up.

Checking my calendar on my computer, I see that the doctor from the health unit is supposed to come by this afternoon. She comes by one afternoon every month. She does checkups for the women and children staying here. She gives them pregnancy tests and also gives those that need it birth control as well as checks on any injuries they might have sustained to be here.

We make the pregnancy tests mandatory as one of the rules of the shelter. If anyone is pregnant, we want to make sure they know so they can start getting the proper prenatal care.

Knowing the sheer number of women who leave abusers and are pregnant is scary, but a sad fact of my work. Their bodies are usually so abused or used to trauma that some don’t realize they’re even pregnant until late into the pregnancies. By having them seen at least once a month while they’re here, they get the care they need quickly and have the best chance for healthy little babies.

It’s also free for them because we have so many generous benefactors and corporate donations. Doctor Jess donates her time and most of the meds are also donated from the pharmaceutical companies, or at least their reps. We’re very lucky.

Its why Hope’s House is the most acclaimed women’s shelter in the state. I’m proud of that.

I hear a giggle from the lobby and decide to take a little break. Paperwork sucks but is a necessary evil. I hate it. It’s my least favorite part of this whole thing.

Standing and stretching quickly, I try to work the kinks out of my back before I head down the hall. Stopping in my tracks at the scene in front of me, I see Davey leaning down with his hand gently cradling Maia’s cheek. Her head is tilted up at him and the look of absolute adoration on both of their faces has me blinking back tears.

Maia and Davey?!

What the hell?

When did this happen?

Leaning down, he kisses her so sweetly before raising his head and allowing his thumb to trace over her lips while he gazes into her eyes, a few tears escape to roll down my cheeks.

If he’s good to her, then that’s awesome. He’s being so sweet and gentle with her.

It almost steals my breath.

I don’t want to intrude on their moment, so I carefully, and quietly, walk backward into the hall. They never even notice me.

Making my way into the small kitchen area across from my office, which is really just a pantry that we added some outlets and shelves to along with a tiny sink, I turn on the Keurig.

It was a gift from Gabrial when I took over the shelter. It’s used daily and much loved. He also has replenishments sent over for it every other month.

As the water in the chamber heats up, I grab a Community Coffee Dark Roast K-cup from the carousel. I’ve just popped it into the canister and selected the largest size when I hear a voice behind me, “I would have made that for you, Hope.”

Turning, I smile at Maia. Her cheeks have healthy color, and her eyes are luminous. She looks younger… happy. “Nah, I wanted the break. I’ve been staring at the computer all morning and my eyes are burning.”

She laughs. “Yeah, things are quiet. It’s strange how quiet they’ve been.”

I nod. “Yeah they are. But I’m hoping that’s a good thing.”

My cup finishes and I reach for the French Vanilla powder creamer on the counter and pour a tiny bit into the cup before grabbing a stirrer. I’m taking a sip and reveling in the delicious brew when Davey walks back. We can’t all fit in here, so he stands in the hallway. He nods at the coffee maker. “Do you mind if I grab one?”

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