Free One Good Turn by Judith Arnold Page B

circle to the sidewalk cafe. Except to request a table for two, he remained silent until the hostess had ushered them to one of the candle-lit tables, presented them with menus and departed.
    “Jenny,” he said, ignoring his menu, “that man could have hurt you.”
    She rolled her eyes at what she clearly considered an overreaction.
    “I’m not kidding, Jenny. He’s a bum. He could have done something awful to you.”
    “Why on earth would he have wanted to do anything to me?” she asked.
    Luke could think of no good reason—but that wasn’t the point. “If he’s deranged enough to be spending his nights on a park bench in Dupont Circle, he’s probably deranged enough to be capable of violence.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” Jenny argued calmly. “There are plenty of reasons why he might be spending the night on a park bench. Maybe he got evicted from his apartment. Maybe his home was gentrified out of existence,” she said, waving at the luxurious new residential towers that bordered the circle. “Maybe he’s just down on his luck. He could be an alcoholic, or—”
    “Exactly. Or a drug addict, ready to knife a naïve lady for the contents of her purse.”
    “Just because he hasn’t bathed in a while doesn’t mean he’s a murderer,” Jenny said with a laugh.
    “How are you going to feel if he takes that money you gave him and uses it to buy drugs?”
    Jenny laughed again. Luke knew she wasn’t laughing at him, though; her laughter was gentle, underlined with sympathy. “I only gave him two dollars. That won’t go far if he’s in the market for drugs. But why assume he’s going to use that money to get high? Why assume the worst? Why not assume he’s going to do something good with that two dollars? There’s always a possibility he’ll spend it on a bagel or a piece of fruit. If I had walked past him without giving him any money, there would have been no chance of that good thing happening.”
    She was crazy, arguably as deranged as the street person on the bench. But when Luke gazed into her wide hazel eyes and acknowledged the depth of her compassion, when he opened himself to the power of her convictions, he lost the will to refute her. What a wonderful thing it must be to go through life expecting the best and giving everyone the benefit of the doubt.
    He permitted himself a slight smile. “Are you going to feel guilty eating a banana split knowing that a hungry person is spending the night on a park bench a block away?”
    “I wasn’t planning to order a banana split,” Jenny told him as she lifted her menu. “That would be much too filling. I was thinking of just a dish of ice-cream.”
    “Not even a hot fudge sundae?”
    She shook her head. “I’m still pretty stuffed from dinner.”
    Dinner had been sandwiches at a gourmet deli a few blocks south of the theater. Since they’d both been at work all day, Luke hadn’t gotten to her apartment until six-fifteen, and curtain time at the theater had been eight o’clock. He’d devoured a side order of fries along with his sandwich and he was feeling a little hungry now, but he supposed a pita-pocket of chicken salad was enough to fill someone of Jenny’s diminutive size.
    He ordered a sundae for himself and a dish of hazelnut ice-cream for her. “Eat it slowly,” he commanded once the waitress delivered their snacks.
    Jenny eyed him curiously. “Why?”
    “I’m not ready to take you home yet.”
    She grinned. “I’m not ready to go home.” She tasted her ice-cream and her grin widened. “Wow, this is great. I’ve never had hazelnut ice-cream before. Taste it, Luke.”
    He took a taste, then insisted she taste his sundae. He was feeling expansive, delighted that she was in no hurry to bring their night to an end. He wanted to sit with her for hours, watching the flickering light of the candle dance across her face, watching the rare but welcome breezes toy with the coppery waves of her hair. She’d worn it loose, and it