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It was 1:15, and her shift was over. She didn't have to clock out, because when she decided she was done, it was so. It was three or four hours from daylight, and she began the long walk to her apartment with $1,000 in her long jacket's pocket.

Janet Bowles was fortunate. She was the only one of her "coworkers" who wasn't hooked on meth or some other chemical drug. She just liked some pot here and there. It was cheap and nonaddictive, or at least that's what she had always been told. Recently, she had been beginning to wonder. She had also tried cocaine, but, luckily, nothing resulted. She hadn't paid rent in two or three months, and $1000 would cover it and then some if she could just keep her mind. Janet would not let herself waste this money.

She wiped the sweat and dirt from her forehead and kept walking, though her strappy shoes were digging into her feet. Janet had to take off her heels. She stopped and bent to pull them off. She was done working anyway.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, she was pushed to the ground by strong hands. Janet screamed, but it was useless on the empty sidewalk that paralleled an empty street that paralleled another empty sidewalk. Seeing as how she had no pockets on her skimpy, dirty red dress, only her jacket was stripped from her as her face was pressed to the concrete.

"Feel that against your temple?" The grimy voice of the attacker asked.

"Yes," she mumbled horrified.

"That's a gun. Don't get up until I'm long gone. You got that?"

"Yes," Janet said, identically to the way she had muttered it only five seconds earlier.

"I like this," he said sleazily. "Finally a girl who doesn't tell me no!" He laughed. "But you've had practice at that, right?"

The mugger stood up holding Janet's jacket and finally getting his knees out of her back. He spoke again. "I hope you're a rich whore. You are pretty." Janet wanted to puke at this violation. "I know," he said with a sudden sharpness, one that she didn't like. "Why don't you show me where you live and see if you can earn this money back," he suggested, flipping through the bills. "Get up!" he shouted, holding the gun to her temple once more. "I could become a regular customer."

Janet got up, letting the mysterious mugger grab her arm from behind her. She led him half a block or more to her apartment building where her landlord greeted her. "Where's this month's rent?" She didn't give Janet a chance to answer. "Good, lord. Who's your friend?" She was annoyed. "Listen, I won't have that kind of monkey business going on in my building! It's amazing I even let a prostitute move in!" At this time, the mugger had his arm around Janet's waist and the gun behind her back where the landlord couldn't see it. "Do whatever elsewhere." Her deep New Jersey accent cut Janet to the bone, much like her shoes that she'd been forced to leave behind.

"I can't pay you right now. I promise I will tomorrow," Janet managed shakily. She didn't know if she should risk trying to tell the landlord what was happening. The mugger stayed silent.

"How many times have I heard that?"

The irony of the situation crashed into Janet's conscious. She's never meant it when she'd said it before, and yet, she was still given chances. Now that she really was planning on paying rent, she couldn't and was being kicked out. What would her attacker do now?

Her landlord made sure to say, "I hope your client has a place for you to stay, maybe where his wife won't know, because you're not staying here tonight!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Baby," he played, kissing Janet on the neck slowly, stretching his neck over her shoulder. The landlord went into the building mumbling. When she was long out of hearing range, "The only reason I'm not taking you into some alley," he started, "is because there isn't one close by, and your not worth a long walk." He left her with those words and a violent shove. She never saw his face.

Janet took his previous advice about not moving. Finally, it was silent. She crawled under the stairwell of the apartment building she'd just been forbidden from entering. She knew there'd be change taped to the bottom of the third step from the top. She'd taped just enough there for two phone calls on a payphone.

Ripping the money from the cold concrete, Janet rolled out from under the stairs. Standing, she ran to the near-by payphone. The only problem: Whom would she call?

Janet waited on the black Plymouth. It was lucky for her, maybe a sign, that the wind had blown the way it had exactly when it had. The only problem—how would she survive even one night with a preacher? Her uncle was a preacher. She hadn't seen him in three years, and that was at a family reunion. Now, she had only come in contact with him by Fate, and nothing else in this world could have done it.

Janet had been standing at the payphone sorting her thoughts. All of a sudden, a cold, harsh wind smacked her in the face. She shivered and rubbed her arms. Her bare feet were sore with cold. They, besides the pain, felt numb. Her feet were just awake enough, however, that she could feel the card hit her toes. She bent down to pick up her distraction from the cold, and familiarities pieced together in her mind. The business card read:

Harry Bowles. He was Janet's only blood-related uncle. He was the only one she could call, so she did. As she sat nearly numb from the windchill, she thought back on their phone conversation and her surprise at his kindness.

"Hello? Harry Bowles, pastor of Almighty Christ Baptist Church. Can I help you with something?" That had been a mouthful. He had moved to New York from Georgia, and that, by his accent alone, was obvious.

"Uh, hi," Janet said nervously. She hadn't actually expected an answer at the hour it was. She hesitated and almost hung up.

"You there?"

"Yeah. Um, this is Janet."

"Janet?" He was confused. "I'm sorry. I don't know you by your name. You've gotta forgive me. I have a lotta names to remember!" He chuckled a rich, warm chuckle.

"I'm Janet Bowles. I'm your-" She cleared her throat. "I'm your niece."

"Oh," he said shocked. "We kinda lost touch, didn't we?"

"Yes, sir." She breathed deep. "I'm alone. I don't really have anywhere to stay. Um, do you think, somehow, you could come get me?"

"Sure! Where are you?" He hardly gave her a second to tell him before he continued rambling. "Oh, my goodness! It's really late!"

Janet's thoughts on this phone call were interrupted by the roar of an engine. She stood from her seat on the sidewalk, still shivering. "Get on in the car!" Uncle Harry shouted. Janet jogged to the passenger's side door, opening it hurriedly. "Thanks," she said, truly grateful.

"If ya ain't got family, who ya got?"

"I guess no one, sir." Janet looked down, ashamed of her skimpy dress. She wondered how much of her new life that her uncle knew about. She used to think she didn't care, but that was all before she had to come face-to-face with him.

"How long you need a place to stay?"

"Just one night. Really, this is nice of you." Janet wondered where Aunt Rachel was. She had always been her favorite aunt. She wasn't going to ask where she was, though.

"Well, you know what?"

He stopped talking, so Janet figured he was prodding her to answer him. "What?" she asked.

"Tomorrow's Sunday. Unless you leave before I get up, you're going to church."

Janet thought back to an old saying that she had always heard in Georgia when she was on vacation at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Harry's. She never understood why someone would be "sweating like a whore in church", but needless to say, she'd be uncomfortable in a place she hadn't been to in so long. "Well, I guess I have no choice, especially if you still rise with the sun."

Harry chuckled the same warm chuckle he done on the phone. It was the kind of chuckle that you'd expect a hefty fellow like him to have. "Indeed I do, darling." The rest of the car ride was hopelessly filled with awkward silence. Janet hummed a little "Amazing Grace". Maybe that would clear Uncle Harry's mind of any questions about her. Too bad she'd forgotten she was wearing practically nothing.

They pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building, and Janet got a craving like she had never experienced, but she knew what her body wanted. She'd only done cocaine three times, but she was ready for more. Maybe that's because her uncle happened to live in the same apartment building as the dealer she'd gotten from.

"We're here!" her uncle said with a smile. "We need to try to get in bed as soon as possible." Even with these words, Uncle Harry didn't get out of the car, and the smile faded from his face. "There's some stuff you should know so you don't have to worry or wonder. Aunt Ra died last year. You'll be sleeping in her bed." Confusion didn't disguise itself on Janet's face. "During our last years together, your Aunt Rachel and I had some troubles. I don't really believe in divorce, and I had to stay strong for the congregation. It would get people talking and gossiping if we lived in separate places."

"Okay," Janet said, just going through the motions. Her craving was becoming too much, though. Somehow, she made it all the way up one flight of stairs and to the apartment marked 94. The door was unlocked, and Janet barged in. She sat down on the couch, feeling the insatiable itch beneath her skin. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead.

"You okay, Darlin'?"

"I feel sick," she barely uttered.

"You need a doctor?"

"No. I just-" She was going insane, she was sure of it. "I just need to sleep it off."

"You sure?"

"Yes..."

"Okay. Your bedroom's there."

"Thanks."

"Goodnight."

"Night." Janet stayed in her bed sweating till sunlight. She noticed it was 6:30. Her uncle wasn't awake yet, or at least if he was, she hadn't sensed signs. Janet sat up in bed. A picture of Harry was on the bedside table. Had Aunt Rachel kept it there? Then, the sound of doom. Uncle Harry's happy whistle bent itself through the doorway just after the sound of the front door opening and closing. The smell of coffee drifted in just following the sounds. The jingle of keys being put in a pocket and the sound of footsteps trodding to the door. "You just getting' up? You look tired. Didn't get much sleep? Go back to bed. You don't have to get up for three more hours."

Janet groaned and smacked her exhausted head to the pillow she had just lifted it from. Her tired eyes slammed permanently, or so it seemed. In only three hours Janet would have to shower. Then, after further preparation, she would go to church.

After that three hours had passed, and Janet was in the shower there were lots of things to think about. On her way in, she had noticed that one flight of stairs up was her dealer's apartment, if he hadn't moved. She remembered passing her uncle's apartment several times, just to go upstairs and do God Knows What, and she never knew it was where he lived. The irony of this would've made Janet giggle, but it wasn't exactly funny.

"This should fit," Harry said, laying out a dress for Janet to try on. "Just, whatever happens, you're not wearing that little number you got on."

"Yes, sir." Janet wasn't sure why, but all of a sudden, she was being so respectful to her uncle. Probably because he offered her only alternative to homelessness. By now, Janet was sure that Harry knew about her prostitution and her drug problems. She felt she was an easy read.

What else was Janet to have done? She was an orphan. It was a horrible cycle of abuse and hatred every time she went to a different foster home, so one day, she just decided to leave. No one had seen her since, at least, no one that would know her. Living on the street, Janet met several people who would shape her course in life, and none of them cared a thing about her. Of course, to Janet, this was family. Her street family was truly all she had.

Money certainly isn't easy to come by, especially with limited education, so Janet did what she felt she had to do to survive. Now, she stood in front of a full-body mirror on the inside of the closet door. The dress was old, but it was beautiful. A gentle knock met the door. "Come in. I'm decent."

"That green looks beautiful with your green eyes and your brown hair."

"Thanks." There was a long silence as Janet turned in the mirror looking at herself from every angle. "Uncle Harry?"

"Yes?"

"How much do you really know about me?"

"I know, as your uncle, everything I need to. You're smart and pretty, and you have so much potential. You, actually, have too much potential to be wasting your life on the streets. We both know you probably can't get into college, but maybe you could yield your life to God, and he can take it from there."

Janet only gave a sarcastic chuckle. "I'm not that type."

"What type? Are you calling me typical? Christians are typical? A lotta people seem to be thinking that these days."

"That's not what I meant. It's just that I've done so much bad stuff that it's too late for me."

"There's no such thing as too late." A certain twinkle of his eye made her believe him, but she still wasn't sure if all that applied to her. "Goodness! It's time to get rolling. Let's go."

Sitting in the pew that she had chosen, Janet tapped her fingers on the section of cushioned bench next to her. These awkward uncomfortable moments were worsened whenever a member of the congregation came over to talk to her. She was always nervous about saying the wrong things.

Then, the awkward moments were momentarily interrupted. From across the church, she saw what was the most gorgeous man alive, she was sure of it. He had to be at least her age or older, though he had the face of an infant. His green eyes were a little lighter than hers, and he had light blonde hair that sat on top of his head like a halo. Disappointment sank Janet's hope a little at the thought that after that day she'd probably never see him again.

When he looked towards her, she quickly turned her head hoping he hadn't noticed her eyes resting on his heavenly face. For a few minutes, all Janet did was stare at the back of the pew in front of her hoping he wasn't still looking, and she tapped her fingers some more. Her hopes were shattered as a shadow assembled on her shoulder. She looked up. "Hi, I'm Grayson Harris." He smiled.

"I-uh-I'm Janet." Where Grayson had been sitting, she now saw Uncle Harry standing. She fumbled for good words—ones worthy of his angelic ears. They never came. "My uh-uncle is the pastor."

"Harry? Brother Harry?" He cocked his head to the side casually in genuine surprise. "He didn't tell me he had a niece!" Grayson's country accent was similar to Janet's uncle's.

"I'm easy to forget."

"Hardly!" he said confidently. "I won't." Grayson left at that, and the organ stopped playing as though to say that that was the end of Janet's 30-second relationship with the man of her dreams. Uncle Harry took his platform in front of the congregation and began the service.

"Hello, everybody! It's good to see old faces and new faces here today. If you haven't heard, we have a young man here today to bring the Word. He wants to give his testimony, and I'm here to tell you, he's a blessing."

Janet, still tired from the night's activity and only having had three hours of sleep, was finding it very hard to stay awake. Once, her eyelids ripped open as she heard and felt the cracking sound of her head hitting the back of the pew. All eyes shot in her direction, some looking judgmental, but not Grayson's. He was doing his best to look unfazed. Still, she couldn't have been more embarrassed.

"As I was saying," Pastor Harry interrupted, "Grayson Harris is a blessing. Come on up, Grayson." Janet was now even more humiliated as Grayson eyed her on his trip to the pulpit.

Standing behind the podium, he began with, "Thanks for letting me do this. I've just been here a few times, and I already feel like a member. You guys are a real welcoming crew." He beamed from ear to ear. "Just to clear some things up, I didn't want to give my testimony until Brother Harry asked me to. I hate public speaking. I'd certainly never ask to do it!" The crowd let out a small laugh as his expressive face began to tell a story. Janet decided he probably would have to talk at all, and everyone would know what he was saying. His expressions said it all.

Grayson proceeded, from there, to tell his story. He told the audience of his life as an orphan. "I was an orphan from the time I was born. My father left my mom when he found out she was pregnant, and my mother died while in labor." That was only a little of what he said. Grayson had had some of the same troubles as Janet had had in life.

Grayson's story made Janet ashamed. He, too, had been faced with choices, but it wasn't until this moment that Janet had realized she had had a choice. Grayson was using his story and was planning on becoming a preacher. Janet had chosen prostitution. Grayson had suffered through abusive foster homes and parents for close to 16 years. Janet ran at the first possible opportunity. Grayson forgave his transgressors. Janet scorned them still. After Grayson's message, almost the entire congregation stood to applaud him. This was one time when he did not crack a smile. He was not proud. He had done this for a different reason.

Uncle Harry came to the front of the church, and Grayson went and sat on the pew Harry had come from. "I know everyone's gonna buy a copy of that sermon! It's true that when we think we are in the worst trials and situations ever, there's always someone who has it worse. You should always remember that if young Grayson can keep the faith after all of that, that we have no excuse to stray from the Lord." Amens filled the crisp Sunday morning air. Janet looked over at Grayson and noticed he was returning the glance. If only he knew who she really was. "Okay, let's end this thing in prayer."

For the first time Janet remembered, she prayed. She didn't just listen to the preacher pray, she talked to God herself. She knew that she probably wasn't doing it right, because it sounded so crude, but she didn't care. For the first time ever, everything felt okay and all wrong at the same time. When Uncle Harry said amen, so did Janet, but she was far from done.

Grayson approached Janet after the church. A lot of people think prostitutes are more comfortable around guys, but in Janet's case, this certainly wasn't true. "So, now that you know my whole life's story, you wanna go get some lunch?" Janet was supposed to leave and go back to her old life after the service, but now, for several reasons, she wasn't sure she wanted to go back at all.

"Sure, I'd love to, but I have to see if Uncle Harry cares if I stay with him for another night."

"He won't."

"I want to be sure." After asking Harry, Janet found that Grayson knew him well. "Where are we eating? I'm pretty hungry."

"Your limit's five bucks. I'm broke flat, just about."

Janet laughed, along with Grayson and responded quickly. "Come on! You can do better than that!"

"Sorry," he said, both of them still laughing. "Lowly preachers with no job don't get paid much!" After a minute Grayson said, "We'll go in my truck."

Once they were in the truck, Janet found herself trapped. Grayson was asking everything she felt she couldn't answer truthfully. "Janet, what brings you to New York?"

"I live here. How about you?"

"Well, I came here from down south to be closer to my brother that got separated from me during foster home moves. Why hasn't the pastor ever mentioned you?"

"Well, you've only been going to the church for two weeks. Uncle Harry just may not have gotten around to that yet."

"I've known Harry for a month and a half, and we got into a discussion about his family just the other day. His only sibling died, so-" He paused. "I'm sorry."

"I was 10. I didn't really know my mom, anyway. She was never around. My dad took good care of me until I was 16 when he was shot by a police officer in a misunderstanding. I saw it happen."

"I'm sorry," Grayson repeated.

"It's okay."

"So, we were kinda in the same boat growin' up, huh? What were your foster homes like?"

"I wouldn't know. I ran away from my second one after I had a fight with my foster mom. I wasn't brave like you."

"I wasn't brave! I was too scared to leave! Listen, everyone deals with things differently. Some people run from fear, and some people cower under it, and still, some people face it head on. Who knows. If I had been 16 when I first got put into foster care, I might have run away too."

"Yeah."

"So what have you been doing to keep your head up? As I said in front of the church, I've been doing odd jobs for elderly people or people who can't do the jobs for themselves or the folks who can't quite afford a professional."

Janet's face got flushed. She hoped it didn't turn red. "You could say the same for me." Aside from the truth she was harboring, she felt safe and comfortable with Grayson.

"So, we're like male and female versions of the same person!" Grayson didn't know how wrong he was. "I have to know, though," Grayson sighed as he pulled into the McDonald's parking lot. "If you think this is too personal, just change the subject." What could he want to ask her? "How's your relationship with God?"

Janet was relieved. "Well, I never really felt like I had one, that is, until this morning. When we prayed, for the first time, I felt like I connected with God, and for the first time, like he could hear me. It was amazing."

"Oh yeah," he said with a grin. "That's an amazing feeling. People without faith don't get it, mostly because they choose not to. I remember those days in my life." Grayson's smile was reassuring. "So, are we going to go inside?"

"Let's go," Janet smiled.

Once inside Janet ordered from the dollar menu. "You can get whatever you want, you know. I was kidding about the being broke thing.

"No. I'm fine."

"Are you sure you don't at least want some fries?"

"No. I'm fine," Janet repeated. In some strange way, she felt like she was repaying Grayson for all his kindness by saving him money.

"We can go to a different restaurant, one with more to choose from, one that's more expensive."

"No. I'm fine. I love McDonald's," Janet reassured him.

"Suit yourself." Much to Janet's pleasure, Grayson was giving up.

The entire time they were together the rest of that day, they spent laughing and flirting. Janet had never been so happy, and Grayson as happy as he'd been in a while. It was this way for another three weeks. Janet and Grayson really got along. Any time they could be together, they were. Neither of the two ever used the term "dating", because Grayson preferred taking things slowly.

Uncle Harry didn't seem to mind any of this, because he saw them as adults. He did, however, like to know where Janet was at all times. A wonderful thing for Janet, she hadn't craved anything since the one time on that Saturday night/Sunday morning, and it had been three weeks since then that Janet clued Grayson in on some things.

"Grayson, I'm not an angel," she said, sitting down on the couch in his apartment.

"I beg to differ," Grayson said playfully as he sat down and kissed her nose.

"No, I mean it."

"Me too." Grayson was serious.

"I've done really bad things."

"Haven't we all?"

"I only stopped my bad things on the day before we met and that was because I had to. Uncle Harry didn't talk about me before because I severed ties with him when I showed up high at church in Georgia during a family reunion."

"Things we regret doing give us motivation to stay on the right track. Don't you think?"

"Well, I guess."

"You've become really important to me, Jan." Janet smiled, touched, and for the first time felt like it wasn't important who she used to be. "Now is there something you really need to tell me that I keep putting off?"

"No," she said compromising.

"Well, I do have something to ask of you. Soon, I'd like to introduce you to my brother. He's really rough around the edges, and he needs God, so could you pray for him?"

"Of course," Janet promised, and over the next few days she kept that promise.

"Baby?"

"What, Gray?" Janet watched the city buildings roll past.

"Recently, I have been asking myself what I would do without you."

"I've been asking myself that since the day I met you!" They laughed.

"No, but, Jan, seriously. I think I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, suddenly beaming.

"Good," Grayson said, seemingly relieved. "I was afraid you'd laugh at me." They were quiet for a little while. "What are our plans for the future?" Grayson asked suddenly.

"Honey, don't you think this is a strange conversation for us to be having in the car?"

"I'm sorry," he said, almost bashfully. "It's just that I've never felt like this about anyone before, and I really just want to secure my place with you forever."

Janet's eyes grew wide. Was that some kind of proposal? True, Janet wanted nothing more for her future than to marry Grayson. It was just strange that he had brought it up so soon, him being so conservative with time.

"That's not the way I wanted this to come out, and this is definitely not the place." Grayson pulled over to the shoulder of the road. "Stay put," he ordered. He proceeded to walk around the back of the truck and open Janet's door. He pulled a ring box out of his back pocket and opened it to reveal a big, shiny diamond ring. "I know it's a little soon, but I know you're the only girl I'll ever love like this. Even if I were to meet every girl in this world, get a chance to know them as well as I do you, and get to pick from all of you. You'd be The One. Janet Bowles, will you be my wife?"

"Yes," Janet jumped out of the truck and hugged her fiancé. Fiancé, fiancé, fiancé. She'd vowed to herself that she'd never get tired of that word.

"Janet? Is that you?"

She slammed the door. "Yes, Uncle Harry."

"Why are you smiling so big?"

"How do you know I'm smiling? You're all the way in there!"

Uncle Harry came down the hall beaming. "I could hear it in your voice. "So what's that all about?"

"Well," she said, looking up at Grayson, whose fingers were locked in hers, "Grayson and I-"

"You're getting married? That's wonderful! I'm calling everyone in the congregation! When's the wedding?"

"Calm down, Uncle Harry!" Janet said with a giggle. "Have you thought about the fact we may not want to tell everyone yet?"

"Why not? That makes no sense. You got joyful news—share it. Seems simple enough to me."

"Well, I agree with you," Grayson finally piped up. "I wanna tell the world. I think the waiting-for-nothing is a girl thing."

"I believe you’re right," Uncle Harry concurred. Janet just rolled her eyes and laughed. They were partly right. "Well, guys, I need to go to the store."

"Why didn’t you get us to get whatever you needed while we were out?" Janet asked, suspicious.

"I gotta be gettin’ to the road now. I’ll see you young-ons later." Uncle Harry left, shutting the apartment door.

"Did you think I wouldn’t figure out he already knew? You, of all people, should know he can’t keep happy secrets."

"That’s my weakness, too," Grayson said with a charmed grin. "How do you think he figured it out?"

"So, am I still going to meet your brother tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I reckon. Remember, his life didn’t ever get turned around from the rut he always had it in, so he’s nothing like me. He’s into some crazy stuff, but we both know that doesn’t mean anything."

"Alright," Janet said reassuringly.

About the time Grayson had told Janet he would come over to introduce her to his brother, Janet was waiting by the window for Grayson’s truck to pull up. When it finally did, Janet waited by the apartment door in her newest blouse waiting for footsteps to sound outside the door. The pitter-patter came, and Janet looked though the peephole as Grayson walked past the door. What was he doing? He went up the flight of stairs across the hall. After all this time, he was getting lost?

Janet went to sit on the couch to wait for Grayson to call or something. Uncle Harry was taking his Saturday 3:00 nap, and Janet was just waiting. After a few minutes or less, the doorbell rang. Janet didn’t even look to see who it was. She knew who it was.

As she opened the turquoise door that stood between her and her best friend in the whole world, prayed silently, hoping all would go well while meeting her future brother-in-law. "Janet, meet my brother." Grayson spoke first.

Before Janet could open her mouth or recover from the shock of seeing that her dealer was Grayson’s brother, Stitch, as Janet had always known him, spoke. "Ain’t I dealed to you before?"

Janet’s eyes grew. "Dealed? She played dumb—very dumb. Dealed what?"

"Yeah!" he went on, ignoring her question. "You’s that hooker who did me favor for a little bit of crack. I remember I was with you the first time you tried crack. I can hardly believe you and my brother got anything in common." His Jersey accent, much like her former landlord’s, really annoyed her, and it always had.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’ve never met you in my life."

"Oh," he said. "Grays don’t know yet? Sorry I blew your cover," he chuckled.

Grayson looked confused. "What’s he talking about?"

"Let’s see if I can remember your name… uh, Janet! Yeah, but you had a streetname. What was it? Bunny? Maybe. I remember thinking how cheesy it was when you told me." They all stood, not speaking, for a moment. "Well, I got more where mine came from if you got more where yours came from." A perverted smiled overtook his face, and his stained, yellow teeth peeped out from beneath his chapped lips.

"That was a long time ago," Janet said, trying to salvage what dignity she had left.

"That was about two months ago. I remember it distinctly. I don’t smoke, I just distribute. I still got my head."

"Brandon," Grayson broke in weakly, "why don’t you go home. I think me and Janet need to talk."

"Whatever. Glad to help, little brother."

"So what was this he talked about?" They were sitting on the couch.

"I wanted to tell you about this stuff earlier, way earlier. Weeks ago when I was telling you about how I wasn’t an angel, but I choked."

"Well, when he said favors, did he mean sexual favors?" His voice was almost a whisper.

Janet was silent for a long minute, and she didn’t have to say anything, but she did. "Yes."

"And I thought I knew you so well, too. This, right here, is why I tried not to like you. I tried to let you tell me everything before I made up my mind about you!" It was as though he was alone in the room talking to himself. "I tried to know her first, but something beyond me said I shouldn’t. It said I couldn’t not like her, and I listened to it!"

"You don’t know how much I’ve changed inside over the past month!"

"No, and that’s what worries me most!" The afternoon sunlight beamed in through the apartment windows. "You might not have changed at all!"

Janet sighed. "I wanted to tell you all this stuff myself, and Fate wouldn’t let me."

"God knew you never would tell me, so he intervened."

"Don’t you ever get sick of doing that?" Janet demanded.

"Doing what?"

"Looking for some spiritual reason for everything?"

"You don’t think there is?"

"Sometimes, but not for everything!"

"I’ll call you tomorrow." Grayson headed towards the door. Before he left, though, he turned to say, "Maybe it’s good that this happened before we both made the biggest mistake of our lives." Those words filled Janet with rebellion and anger. How did he have a right to blame her for not telling him about everything when she had tried and he wouldn’t let her?

Sitting on his small bed in his mostly-empty apartment, Grayson closed his eyes and prayed for guidance as he cracked open his favorite book. He could hardly concentrate on his reading because of his thoughts, but he pressed on. The answer was in the Bible somewhere, and he was determined to find it.

Four and a half blocks away, Janet was sitting on her bed. It was near nine, and Janet decided it was time to go. Maybe everything wasn’t what she had thought for about a month. She had been raising money by cleaning for her uncle. She would visit Brandon, but not tell Harry, before she left. Janet left a note, took her new clothes and money, and headed out the door.

After her visit with Grayson’s brother, Janet was ready to go back and forget Grayson’s existence. She had enough crack to get her high and then some. Janet made it a point to walk by Grayson’s apartment building, and when she got there, her plans, and destiny, changed.

It was almost midnight and Grayson needed to go for a walk. Upon exiting his apartment building, he met his duty and guilt. "My God! I should’ve stayed with you!" Grayson picked up the passed out girl from the stoop. He carried her to his truck, and this wasn’t easy. Janet was out cold, and this didn’t help the lifting process. "Janet!" he shouted through his strain as he set her down on the seat.

Grayson watched Janet from the seat beside her bed. The doctors had said that Janet had developed a heart condition that reacted badly to the cocaine. The heart monitor beeped steadily, but he hadn’t seen her move or give any signs of consciousness since he had discovered her.

Finally, Brother Harry arrived just as the heart monitor slowed. Grayson’s eyes were burning with potential tears. Harry came to him, and he got up to let the man sit down. "I need a second with her," Harry requested, sniffling back his tears.

"Yes, sir. She’s your niece," Grayson said as steadily as he could possibly manage. He walked towards the door as the monitor got even slower. Finally, as he stood in the doorway looking back over his shoulder, the solemn room stiffened as the heart monitor let out one, steady, heart-stopping sound. Uncle Harry kissed Janet’s hand as Grayson hung his tired head and walked out the hospital room door.