Finding Home in Redemption

Chapter Four

After I got rid of the towels, I invited Aaron to have a seat on the sofa while I brought in a kitchen chair. Minutes full of awkward silence went by before I couldn't take it anymore and started a conversation.

"Is it okay if I ask you more questions?"

"Of course. I think it's only fair that you get to ask some questions."

I started with the question that was bothering the most. "What are you going to do when it starts snowing?"

"I guess I'll do what I did last year and the year before that. I've lived through winters before; I can do it again," he gave me a reassuring smile that didn't make me feel better at all.

"I remember you being out there last winter but I didn't think twice about it. I'm sorry for that."

"There's no need to be sorry. You're not the one that put me out there."

"Why are you out there?" I whispered.

"That's a long story, and it's not something I'm proud of." I wondered if he was talking about something other than being homeless. You didn't end up on the streets without some form of harsh reality.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Twenty-two. I'll be twenty-three on Christmas Day," I said, smiling.

"A Christmas baby, huh? Your parents must have been excited."

"Pop said I was the biggest surprise ever. My mom didn't even know she was pregnant until she was almost seven months along. So," I said, changing the subject. "Do you work anywhere? I notice you're gone every night."

"I do different things from time to time. It doesn't make much money, but I get by," he replied stiffly.

"Oh, okay," I could tell he didn't want to talk about that either, so I turned the television on for him while I went to switch his laundry over. I stayed in the laundry room a little longer than I should have. I couldn't help but wonder about the things he was hiding. It wasn't my business, I knew that, but it was hard to remember that we didn't know each other. And that's what I wanted; I wanted to know him.

"Are you okay?" I started, having not heard Aaron come up behind me. I had been resting my elbows on the washer and my head in my hands, so when I jumped up, I hit my head on the shelf directly above me.

"Oh my gosh, that hurt, ow, ow, ow!" I grabbed my head and started jumping around the small area.

"Crap, are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you! Come on, let's go get some ice." I felt his hand gently grab onto one of my elbows, and he led me to the living room.

"Wow, I didn't think the shelf was that sturdy. I'll have to tell my landlord it's a fundamental part of the structure of the building," I tried to joke, but before I could stop myself, I started crying because of the pain.

He dropped me off at the sofa before walking into the kitchen. He must have found the sandwich baggies I kept on the counter because I heard him rummaging around in the freezer. I laid down and closed my eyes, wiping away a few more tears. Of course, I would cry on the night I finally got to have a two-way conversation with this man.

"You need to stay awake. If you have a concussion, it's not a good idea to go to sleep. Here, let me see if you're bleeding." He reached over to help me sit up and brushed his fingers through my hair. Looking for the bump, he accidentally grazed over it, and I flinched.

"That's a pretty nice goose egg, Bentley. I think you need to go to the hospital," he sounded worried.

"I'll be okay. Let me put some ice on it for a while and take some medicine. I've suffered worse before."