Chapter 10

"Everyone goes through trials, and I don't know the ones you've been through but let me help you. It gets better. Wipe your tears." As he said the word, the tears fell from my eyes. I looked in his blue eyes and sniffed. "You've been so nice to me. I'm crying because you're nice to me. In the six months, I've been homeless; you've been nicer than anyone else. Thank you, Valdo. I don't know how I'll ever repay you." Even with my doubts, I was grateful for his help. Tonight I ate a homemade dinner, I'm going to shower in a bathroom, and I'm going to sleep in a room with a comfortable bed. He smiled, "Don't worry about that. Worry about taking a shower and going to bed." I had the urge to lift my shoulders and smell my armpit. Did I smell? It was something I asked myself regularly. I didn't get to have regular showers, so I was very conscious about how I smell. I was homeless and pregnant; I couldn't afford stink to be added to my list. "You smell fine. But after a long day, I think you deserve a long hot bath in a tub." Just thinking about showering with warm water made me happy. "I haven't had one of those in a long time," I admitted. He nodded with a frown, "Public restrooms are no fun." He spoke as if he had experience with using a public restroom to clean up. "Do you have a rag I can use? and soap?" He looked down at the clothes separating us, "Rags are in there. The body wash is in the bathroom." "Thanks." I smiled, looking into his eyes. "You're welcome." he returned my smile, looking directly into my eyes. I felt a tingle in my spine, so I took a step back which caused the clothes to fall out of my hands and on the ground. I tried bending, but it was impossible with my belly so big. "What are you doing? Stop." Valdo placed his hands my shoulderd. He shook his head at me, "You're not supposed to be bending. I'll get the clothes. You go and take a seat before you hurt yourself." Not wanting to argue with him because of the stern look on his face, I obeyed and walked over to the bed and took a seat. I watched as he bent and took up the pieces that had fallen. When I heard the word rich, I automatically assume snobby, arrogant and ruthless, but Valdo was the opposite. "You have to be careful. Pregnancy is a serious thing. You've had it hard for six months, and now you can take a break." he continued picking up the items and folding them—his actions were that of one who was trained well as a child. "I noticed you were drawing. I'll get you an art book and some pencils." "You don't have to do that." He lifted his head, "Of course I do, you're going to be bored without something to do." "I'm going to get a job." He shook his head, "No, you can't. You're too far along. You have to rest." he pointed to my feet, "Look at your feet they're swollen. You've been on them for six months now it's time to rest. Don't worry about money. I have enough to share." I shook my head, "I can't take your money." Taking money from him would be different from taking money from strangers on the street. "You're not taking it. I'm giving it to you." he placed the folded clothes in his hands and stood from the ground. He walked over to the bed and put the clothes on it. "I can't." My mother taught me better. "Okay, I'll lend you and when you start working you pay me back." I nod, "Okay. Deal." It might take years to pay him back, but I will. "Is one hundred thousand good?" I raised my eyebrows, "That's way too much. Five thousand is good." He shook his head, "Five thousand can't do anything. You'll need clothes for yourself and the baby. A crib, a stroller, formula, pampers and I can continue." I didn't realise all the things I needed until he listed them out for me. How would I have survived being homeless with a child? How did his mother survive? "I can't take more than five thousand. I don't know how I'd pay it back." I didn't have any documents, and I didn't finish high school, so I don't have a diploma. It would be hard to get a job, but it wasn't impossible. There were many illegal residents in America, and they had jobs without documents. If they can do it, I can do it too. He smiled, "You worry too much. Have faith, and everything will turn out as it's meant to be." For a man who said he's been through a lot, he was very optimistic. Six months on the street only made me a realist if not a pessimist. But even with my negative thoughts and beliefs looking in his enchanting blue eyes gave me hope, and I believed him. For the first time in six months, I believed that everything is going to be alright. For the first time in six months, I woke up with a smile on my face. My neck wasn't cricked, and the muscles in my arms and legs weren't hurting. It was a great feeling. I wasn't in any physical pain, and it felt great. I slowly pulled myself up and rested my head on the headboard. I looked down at my stomach and smiled, "Good morning, baby girl." and as usual she'll give me a small kick. I felt a rush of emotions. How could I have given this feeling up? The unbreakable bond that I have created with my unborn child was beyond beautiful. Was this how my mother felt when she was pregnant with me? Was that why she worked so hard to make me happy?