All That Really Matters, Nicole Deese [best detective novels of all time .TXT] 📗

sacrifice might cost her. How it might change and challenge her. How it might unsteady her beliefs, or uproot whatever current torment she was working so hard to hide even now.

Her gaze tracked Devon and Monica as they trailed through the room and stepped up on the platform, and I forced my own to do the same.

As Devon reached the step first, I raised an eyebrow and nodded in the direction of the young lady behind him. A silent yet pointed reminder that he would be a gentleman and allow Monica to go first. After a short bob of his head, Devon took a step back and gestured for her to go ahead of him. Smart guy.

Though I didn’t usually address the entire group on these evenings, as our routine was often as casual as it was fluid, for the sake of our newest volunteer and mentor, I decided a heads-up would be beneficial. From the floor below the platform, I smiled at the young adults I’d spent the better part of a year serving, counseling, coaching, and hanging with. “Evening, ladies and gentlemen. As all of you know, tonight is about answering one of three chosen questions, depending on what’s happened in your day or week.” I looked to the group sitting near the fireplace. “Amy, would you mind reading those questions out loud for us tonight?”

“Sure.” Amy stood and pointed to the questions printed inside the frame Glo had placed on the mantel two years ago when she’d envisioned D&D: “Question one: What was the high point of the day or week, a moment when you felt closest to God and to the truest version of yourself? Two: What was your low point today, a time when you felt tension or regret or most unlike your truest self? Three: What were you most grateful for today?”

“Sasha,” I directed. “Would you be so kind as to remind us of the three sharing guidelines?”

Sasha, who quickly veiled her frustration with the shield she so often wore in the form of indifference, stood and ticked off her fingers one by one. I hadn’t failed to notice the way she’d rolled her eyes as Monica made her way up. Though the two were usually inseparable, Glo had reported a dispute between them that had yet to be resolved. “Don’t interrupt others while they’re sharing. Keep your sharing time focused on I statements only. And encourage others by modeling good listening behavior when it’s their turn to share.”

“Thank you, Sasha.” I made sure to wait until she acknowledged me with a nod before moving on. “As usual, the goal of these evenings is to grow in authenticity and in vulnerability. When we’re willing to risk being real with others . . .” I stopped the sentence there, prompting the room to finish.

“We teach others how to be real with us,” they said in unison.

I stepped aside for Monica to share, noting Molly’s attentive posture. How foreign would this exercise be from her daily routine? I’d become increasingly aware that perhaps it wasn’t only our residents who needed Molly, but Molly who needed them.

“I’d like to answer question one tonight—my high point.” Monica swayed side to side as she spoke. “This morning I was able to buy a muffin for one of my classmates. She’d got to the front of the line and realized she’d forgotten her wallet in her car. She was freaking out a bit, throwing out all her books to search for loose change in her backpack. I only had a ten-dollar bill on me, but I felt like I could help her. So, I stepped up and gave the cashier my ten. Just like that.” She looked around the room. “It reminded me of all the times someone stepped up for me, and also of the times when nobody stepped up, and I felt my only option was to steal what I needed.” She shrugged as if that wasn’t one of the most profound statements she’d ever made. “But I think God was proud of me today. It’s like what Glo’s always saying about how it’s better to give and all that—well, it was. Even though I was short on cash for myself, paying for Becca was even better than my double white mocha and slice of banana bread.” Monica smiled at Glo, and Glo blew her a kiss. “That’s all. Thanks.”

God wasn’t the only one proud of her. Monica was big on personality and on influence. A natural-born leader. And yet it had only been recently that I’d seen her use that powerful combination for people other than herself or Sasha. I smiled up at her, like the delighted father she’d never had, yet deserved nonetheless. “Proud of you, Monica. Good job.”

Glo met her offstage, wrapped her in a quick hug, then offered her a warm cookie as the room whooped and clapped for her. Devon then took center stage, which was likely his favorite spot to be in.

My brief glance at Molly proved she was up for another one. Good.

I braced for Devon’s speech to come, hoping he’d stay on track or at least on a single topic. The kid reminded me so much of Jake when he was nineteen. “I’ll take question numero tres.” The room laughed, and I quirked an eyebrow at him. Though we had some native Spanish speakers in this room, Devon was not among them. He gave me his signature apologetic grin and addressed the group once more. “Today I’m most grateful for this.” He reached in his pocket and took out a new iPhone, held it up.

“Devon,” I cautioned in a volume only he could hear.

“No, no really. Hear me out. This isn’t just for laughs. For a long time I could only afford the pay-as-you-go service plan, but the data was so expensive and my minutes would always run out before the end of the month. But today I got my first-ever service plan. Because I actually have some credit now—the good kind, even.”