Chapter 3

“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” I could tell by the look on his face he was as surprised by my question as I was fearful of his answer. Would I be able to stop what I put in motion—but more importantly would I want it to end?

“Look, Matt, it’s a nice gesture on your part. I appreciate the offer, and I would like to say yes. But unless you want to eat out here on the street with me, I think I’m going to have to pass on the invite.”

“Why?”

“Do you have to ask?” He looked down at himself. “Look at me. I’m dirty, and my clothes are old and torn. Besides”—he slipped his nose under his sweatshirt—”I smell.” He looked at me and smiled again, perhaps to hide his own distaste of the situation he found himself in. “No one is going to welcome me into their restaurant like this, and I don’t blame them.” He paused as if wanting to say more. Instead, he crushed his cigarette out on the pavement and sat there without another word.