Trish, my wife of a dozen years, had just returned home from dropping our two kids at their grandparents when the temperature started to drop. The forecast called for a deep cold snap and we planned to enjoy it by spending our time with a glass of wine by the warm fire before moving to the bedroom.
"Wine!" she called out from down the hall as she changed.
A few minutes later, she appeared in a flannel pajama set, looking decidedly unsexy, but comfortable. She reached for the glass, but I avoided her hand, gripped her arm, and pulled her to me.
"Cost you a kiss," I said.
"That's all?" she answered with a giggle and then planted her juicy lips on mine.
At thirty-seven-year-old, Trish was still a very desirable woman. Her body had remained trim despite bearing children and she was quite proud she could say she had only gained five pounds since her college cheerleader days. At 5'7" tall, she had a naturally slender body that she kept toned through a strict workout schedule. She had auburn hair with green eyes and when she smiled cute dimples formed that gave her a child-like appearance. Up top, she had c-cup breasts that had held up well despite nursing our children. Her physical attributes matched her style and positive attitude which made me just as enamored with her as I had been when we first began dating.
Our kiss lingered and I had just pulled her tighter when suddenly the room filled with the piercing sound of the phone ringing.
"Shit," I declared and reluctantly let her go.
Trish was closer, so she lifted the receiver and by the interaction, I could tell she was familiar with the caller. Soon, by the subject matter they were discussing, I guessed it was her friend Gayle from church. You see, church was very much a part of my wife's life, something she inherited from her parents. I held ambivalent views that had initially caused some issues, although over time we had reached a mutual understanding. It meant I didn't challenge her faith or attempt to intervene regarding the kids and she would reluctantly accept me. Fortunately, she didn't wear her views on her sleeve and if you didn't know her well, you would have no idea about her commitment. Also, she didn't bring any baggage into the bedroom where she could often be an intensely passionate lover.
As the call progressed, I realized they were discussing a group of homeless individuals the church had tried to help. I held pointed views on the subject, feeling it was a complete waste of time and potentially dangerous, but Trish ignored my concerns and worked as part of the team. I knew Gayle was one of the organizers and her call was likely bad news for our planned evening.
"You don't think all the stuff...the blankets and things are enough?" I heard my wife ask.
For almost a minute, she remained silent as she listened to her friend before speaking, "I guess...I mean if you think we should."
Shortly after, the call ended and with a worried look, Trish turned my way and said, "Gayle thinks we should go check on them. You know...because it's going to be so cold. It won't take long, I promise."
Struggling to hide my annoyance, I replied, "They have been in colder weather than this and besides, what are you going to do? Give them more free stuff that they can sell for booze and drugs?"
"Do you have a heart?" she asked after a short pause, providing her standard response when logic escaped her.
"You're not going out there after dark. No way," I declared.
"Peter is coming and you can..." she began.
"I'm not going out in the cold for them," I interjected, guessing her intent.
Peter was Gayle's husband and part of the church group as well. I knew from past encounters that he had a slight build and a weak demeanor, so he would likely be useless in any physical confrontation, but I had already reached my frustration limit and rather than argue, I moved to the TV. Trish ignored me as she prepared and twenty minutes later after a message arrived on her phone, I heard the door open.
"Stop," I yelled out and jumped from my seat. Striding to the door, I found her standing in opening looking very nervous. With a deep breath, I told her, "You're not going there without me. Not with just that pussy Peter as protection."
Trish's expression slowly morphed into a tiny smile that gave me hope for some positive payback later. She waived at the couple to wait and then closed the door as I went to change. When I returned, we approached the couple's vehicle, but seeing they were driving a Prius, and having no desire to force myself into the small backseat, I told Trish we would follow them in our SUV. Little did I know it would turn out to be a decision that would haunt me later.
We drove the distance mostly in silence as Trish knew there was little upside in engaging me in the group's plight. Slowly, the fashionable neighborhoods turned into less affluent areas followed by retail and light industrial sectors until I spotted the elevated expressway that marked the location of the encampment. The road traveled off-grade for about eight blocks and on one end I could see a collection of small tents and hung tarps. A fire burned in a barrel causing light to dance off the colorful tents making it appear almost like a party. We followed the small car to the curb and then disembarked into the frigid air.
"Everything looks good to me," I declared, which brought looks of scorn from the others.
"You can wait in the car," Trish said, and deciding it indeed made sense, I nodded and turned away.
From the warmth of the vehicle, I watched as they approached the tents noting that the only sign of people was one man standing next to the fire. The trio disappeared into the camp, causing the hair to stand on my neck, and I counted the minutes as I waited. When ten minutes had elapsed, I was just about to go searching when I saw them appear along with two forms. One I was certain was a man based on his height and physique, but the other was harder to determine. They stood not too far from the fire barrel and talked for several minutes before my wife left the group and headed my way.
"What?" I asked when she entered the SUV knowing instinctively there was a message and it wasn't good.
"We're worried about those two men. They have nothing to stay warm and it's really cold," she explained.
"Can't they share with the others?" I asked.
"It doesn't work that way," she answered, clearly missing the irony of her response.
"So, we have to go to the store and buy them stuff?" I asked, sensing the message.
She looked at me without speaking for several seconds and then with slow measured words said, "Gayle..and Peter...they're thinking it would be best...if we take them in for the night. One with them and one with us."
"You've lost your fucking mind. I've let this silliness go on, but no more. I'm not taking some dirty vagrant into our home and you are done with this stupid crap," I responded angrily.
For a moment, a look of anger crossed her face that was so intense that I thought she might jump across the console and maul me as I sat behind the wheel. I had never seen the look and it frightened me while also preparing me for the reply I was about to receive.
"Don't you ever tell me what I can do. Never!" she said and paused, but any hope I had that it was over was fleeting as she was just beginning, "I knew you'd say that. You have never understood. You're so certain you're right...so certain you understand everything, but let me tell you something, you don't know a thing. For once act with your heart, not your thick head. Trust me, you're not nearly as smart as you think you are."
I had never received a dressing down by Trish in that way, so it startled me, but I still couldn't accept the plan and answered, "I don't want them in our home."
Another pause ensued, and then she said, "Fine, I'll get a hotel room."
I wasn't entirely sure how to take her message, but thinking there must be other alternatives, I asked, "Aren't there any shelters?"
"They're full," she replied, and then added, "Gayle checked."
"Why doesn't the church take them in?" I probed.
