Page 8 of Secret Admirer

Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles kindly at me. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I promise.”

My instincts tell me to run, but I turn around and try to smile. “What can I help you with…” I try to remember her name, but for the life of me, I can’t. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”

“No need to be sorry. You’ve got better things to worry about than remembering my name. I’m Lucille. I run Oasis Sanctuary.”

She’s a tiny little thing. Probably no more than five foot even. Her salt and pepper hair is short, yet the front always seems to flop down in her brown eyes that shine with kindness just as they are now. She’s like a grandmother to everyone here.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lucille.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m sure you’re wondering why I stopped you tonight.”

“A little bit. I’m kind of used to being invisible.”

“Honey,” her lips tip up, “you couldn’t be invisible if you tried. Now, the reason I stopped is you is that I’ve noticed you helping out some of the moms with their kids.”

Did I do something wrong?

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know.” I swallow the lump that’s slowing forming in my throat.

“Nothing could be further from the truth. You took it upon yourself to help when you didn’t have to. The kids love you.”

“Art has always been my outlet in my times of need. I love it, but it’s been too long since I’ve been around any supplies to create anything. If I’ve overstepped any boundaries, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever I can to pay you back.”

“Come, follow me.” Lucille turns to walk away, but when I don’t follow, she links her arm with mine. “Trust me. You’re not in trouble.”

Silently, I walk with Lucille as she takes us to the back of the shelter. We stand outside a large room filled with kids ranging from toddlers to teens. They’re all sitting around lunchroom tables with the stools built in. One boy sits at a table by himself reminding me of how I spent all my lunches until high school. No one wanted anything to do with me until puberty hit. I went from one of the smallest kids in school with no friends to one of the tallest boys in my school with the girls vying for my attention. I spent my afternoons in the school’s weight room bulking up and unintentionally gaining more attention from the female population. Attention my shy self didn’t know what to do with.

“There’s so many of them,” I murmur.

“Recently we’ve had an influx of women with children. Normally, we don’t have quite this many…” She trails off as she takes in a sleepy toddler who waddles over to a young girl and sits in her lap. I’m guessing it’s his sister. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve brought you back here.” Lucille glances my way before turning back to the room. “Like I said, we’ve noticed you helping with the kids. Do you have kids of your own?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Were you previously a teacher?”

“No.” I chuckle. Couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Well, no matter, you’re a natural. I have a proposition for you. I don’t know your story and you don’t have to share, but you’re here for a reason and I’d like to help you out if I can.”

Instinctively I take a step back. I’ve had too many people offer help only to take advantage. Shaking my head, I try to head off the storm of memories that are sure to follow a trigger.

“Oh, Bodhi, I’m sorry. You’d think I’d be better at this.” Frowning, Lucille motions for me to follow her. “I promise, I have no ulterior motive. Well, actually that’s not true. I want your help, but in return, I’ll help you.”

“What do you want?” I ask a little too roughly and clear my throat.

“I’d like to offer you a job.”

“A job? I…I don’t have any training or knowledge in…”

She interrupts, placing her hand on my arm. “Not as a counselor, but as an art teacher. In the few days you’ve been here I’ve seen some of the things you’ve made, and I’m impressed. Last night, I heard some of the kids raving about you showing them how to draw some Jack Skellington fellow.”

A smile blooms on my face thinking about all the kids gathered around as I showed one of the boys how to draw the spindly body of the character.

Lucille makes a self-satisfied noise as she ushers me into her office. “You love art. I can tell by the way your eyes light up.”

“I won’t deny it. It had been a long time since I’ve had my hand on a sketchpad. For me, and others, it can be quite therapeutic. When I was helping the kidstheireyes lit up, and they each had smiles on their faces. You don’t see much of that around here.”

“No, you don’t. Does that mean you’ll take the job?” she asks hopeful, resting her chin on her clasped hands.

---