Free Fire and Rain by Andrew Grey

dirty,” Kip suggested. “I can get some lemonade, and we can all sit outside for a while.” Fresh air would definitely do him good. He led the way, and Isaac went right to one of the wicker lounges, declaring it a corral for “Spistachio.” Jos sat rigidly in one of the chairs while Kip went inside. He made up some frozen lemonade and brought a pitcher and cups on a tray out to the porch.
    “This is probably going to be one of the last truly nice days of the year,” Kip said. “Around here it’s like someone flips a switch and spring is here, and then the switch gets flipped again in the fall and winter is upon us.”
    “I know,” Jos said and sat back in his chair, cradling the cup in both hands. He drank every now and then, watched Isaac, and said nothing at all. Kip watched Isaac play for a while, but his gaze kept traveling back to Jos. He was chewing on something. Kip could almost see the wheels in his mind turning something over and over again. He’d sat quietly with people and been perfectly comfortable. This was not one of those times. It seemed like the pressure inside Jos was building by the second.
    “What is it?” Kip eventually asked.
    “I keep thinking we should go,” Jos replied.
    Kip sighed. “Where are you going to go? To a shelter? Back on the streets?” It wasn’t as though he had a lot of options, but Kip stopped because Jos looked as though he’d hit him. “Dammit, I didn’t mean it like that. If I think you need to leave, then I’ll tell you. Jeffrey and I were done before I met you, and you didn’t break anything up or ruin a relationship, because the one we had was over. He didn’t want to accept it. Nothing more. So don’t worry.”
    “But what—”
    “Are you scared?” Kip asked. “You look like a rabbit ready to run.”
    “I’m always scared. I have been for weeks. Mom died and suddenly I’m a parent to a four-year-old. That threw me for a loop, but just as I was getting things under control, everything fell apart with the job and the apartment. Not that I was going to be able to stay in the apartment for very long unless I got a job, but I even had day care for Isaac because they had a small center at work. Since then I’ve been moving from shelter to shelter. I don’t know where our next meal is coming from, I have people telling me that Isaac would be better off with strangers in foster care, and finally you come along and I don’t know what the hell to think, because you and Donald are the first people who’ve really tried to help me other than filling a plate and telling me to move along.”
    “That was a mouthful.”
    “I guess, but I can’t help thinking that your help is only going to last so long, and then I’ll be right back where I was.”
    “But you won’t. If Donald can help Isaac get survivor benefits, then you’ll have some support coming in until he’s eighteen. It won’t be a huge amount, but it will be guaranteed money. Donald’s contacts will also try to find you a place to live with a reputable landlord.”
    “It’s hard to let someone do things for me when….” Jos paused and swallowed. Kip watched his delicate throat work and knew he should not be watching Jos that closely. Of course it didn’t help that sometimes he was sure he saw Jos watching him.
    “It can be hard to trust people,” Kip continued. “It’s easier to rely on yourself, but you can’t do it all, and getting your life back on track is going to require more than you can do alone. And your primary focus needs to be on Isaac.”
    “But….”
    “I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is Donald. Think of it this way: trusting us doesn’t have a cost. You can leave if you want, and if what Donald and I are trying to do doesn’t work, you’re no worse off. But you could be much better off, with a home and support for Isaac. You only have to let us help.”
    Jos took a drink, the ice cubes rattling in the cup, then said, “But why would you want to? Why