Trail of Secrets(65)
“Of course.” Callie pushed to her feet and looked toward the kitchen. Peggy stood just inside the dining room, watching her. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and a frown creased her face. She shook her head, and Callie felt the unspoken reprimand for slacking off on her responsibilities vibrate through her body to the tips of her toes. She took a deep breath and glanced down at Herman, who had shifted his attention back to the food on his plate. “Would you like another cup of coffee before I move on?”
“No, ma’am. I’m fine, but thanks.”
Callie moved down the table to the next man, but she couldn’t resist glancing back at Herman, who hadn’t looked her way again. Something in the slump of his shoulders and the resigned tone of his words pierced her heart, and she wondered what happened to people that ended up on the streets with no hope. She shook the thought from her head and walked toward the kitchen to refill her now-empty coffeepot.
Peggy waited for her just inside the door. “You don’t need to talk to the people who come in here.”
The statement surprised Callie, and she frowned. “Why not? I thought the mission was here to help these people.”
“It is. But our goal is to meet their physical needs. A meal, a bed for the night, a place to get a shower. Those types of things.”
“I don’t understand. What about offering them hope or encouragement? Don’t you want them to escape the way they’re living?”
“Of course we do, but that’s not going to happen for most of them. Only a handful will be able to escape their lives on the street.”
“You have no way of knowing which ones will escape. In the meantime, why shouldn’t you offer kindness and compassion to the ones who come in here?”
“Because they’ll want to start spilling the sordid details of their lives. Before you know it you’ll be sucked in and feeling sorry for them. Then they’ll hit you up for money. I should know. It’s happened to me plenty of times.”
Callie debated how to respond to Peggy. Evidently, something had happened in her past that influenced her opinion of the people the mission served. Callie hoped she never became too jaded to be willing to reach out to other people. After a moment she nodded. “I’m sorry you’ve had some bad experiences. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Peggy’s features softened, and she pulled up the corner of her apron and wiped at the perspiration on her forehead. “I’m only telling you this for your own good, Callie.”
“Thank you for doing that.” Callie smiled and walked over to the big coffee urn across the kitchen. When she’d refilled her pot, she turned and headed back into the dining room.
She had only gotten to the kitchen door when the door that led from the sidewalk outside into the dining room opened, and Marty Weaver stepped into the room. Surprised at seeing him there, she took a step back into the kitchen and watched.
He didn’t move for a moment. He stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, and let his gaze drift over the men and women still eating their dinner. She inched farther back into the kitchen, but he didn’t appear to notice her. Her heart beat a little faster when his gaze came to a stop on Herman Miller. The man appeared oblivious to the policeman’s presence for a few seconds, then he looked up.
Herman’s body slowly stiffened, and his mouth dropped open. He didn’t break eye contact with the officer as he laid his fork down on his plate. Then he rose and picked up his still half-filled plate and hurried across the room to the garbage can where he dumped the remaining food. He gave one last glance at the imposing figure just inside the front door before he turned and exited the room through a side door that led outside.