Pieces of Me by Darlene Ryan Page B

ended up going to the dump. What a waste.” He stretched his legs under the table. “It’s that I kinda promised I’d do something this morning.”
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    â€œThere’s this woman…she’s old and she doesn’t have much, plus she’s raising her granddaughter, I met them at the food bank a couple of times. She needs a couple of screens put on her windows, but the landlord keeps putting her off. I told her I’d do it.”
    He looked kind of embarrassed, pushing his coffee cup back and forth across the table from one hand to the other.
    â€œThat’s really nice of you,” I said.
    â€œIt’s not a problem,” he said. “And I like her.” He looked up at me then. “So is there anywhere I could take you?”
    It was my turn to look down, embarrassed. “You’ll laugh,” I said.
    â€œNo, I won’t.”
    â€œChurch.”
    â€œChurch?”
    I looked up at him and nodded.
    â€œOkay, you have clearly been taken over by the Holy Roller pod people,” Q said.
    â€œSee?” I said. “I knew you’d laugh.”
    Q pushed his cup away. “I’m not laughing. I’m just trying to figure out why the heck you want to go to church. Didn’t you get enough ‘Come to Jesus’ on Monday night?”
    Had it just been Monday night that I’d met Q? I’d only known him a week, but it felt a lot longer. “It’s not like that,” I said. “There’s this big old church down by the river.”
    He nodded. “I know the place. With the copper roof?”
    â€œYeah. Sometimes I like to go there. I can just sit in the back and listen to the music, and no one bothers me. I like it. It’s peaceful.”
    They had a couple of services on Sunday morning, and sometimes I’d sit through both of them, putting a dollar in the collection plate each time. I didn’t mind. I figured it was a pretty good deal to be out of the weather and wrapped in all the music.
    And no one ever bothered me. I noticed a lot of students, and I just managed to blend in with them. A couple of times, I’d even gone for cookies and coffee in the hall after the service, walking around with my cup, smiling like I belonged.
    â€œOkay, so I’ll drive you down,” Q said.
    We finished eating, and I brushed my teeth in the bathroom. Then Q and I walked back to the car. Most of the RV people were up and moving around. It was still quiet at Dylan’s family’s van.
    â€œDo you think the baby is okay?” I asked Q.
    â€œYeah,” he said, eyeing the van himself. “Little kids get sick all the time, and they’re better before you know it.”
    I nodded, but I couldn’t stop myself from watching for some sign that Dylan and his brother and sister were okay.
    It was still early when Q left me at the church, so I crossed the street and walked along the river for a while. When I did go in and find a seat, I found myself staring at the huge cross at the front. I looked around to see if anyone was watching, then I bent my head and closed my eyes. Thank you for Q and for having food and somewhere to sleep , I prayed silently. Please watch out for Dylan and his brother and sister. Amen.
    I felt a little silly when I opened my eyes again, but if you couldn’t pray in a church, then where could you do it? I hoped God was listening. I’d been in the church enough to know that here they believed that God was always listening, and I hoped for Dylan’s sake that he was.
    When I came out about quarter after twelve, Q was across the street sitting on the hood of the Honda in the sun. It felt good to have someone waiting for me, to not have to walk around the city for hours and then scramble to get something to eat and find somewhere to sleep. That cramped little car was starting to feel like home.
    â€œHow was church?” Q asked, pushing his sunglasses up onto