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“More like a…halfway house. Criminals, recovering addicts, domestic violence victims—those people have residential environments to give them a chance to get them on their feet. And the Q-Center can do it for queer people on a very small scale, but what if we could do more? It doesn’t need to be fancy, just four walls and a roof over their heads. I have a plan.”
Amanda lifted her drink to Kane. “Please go get me some real tea. This decaffeinated stuff is disgusting.”
Scowling, Kane stomped off with the drink.
“Go on,” she prompted.
“The guy who owns the building is willing to lease out the neighboring space to the center for only a nominal addition to the rent. He’s been a member of Paul’s—the pastor who runs the place—his congregation for, like, twenty years. What I’m suggesting is for Cooper to donate the manpower to open up some space between the two rentals and help us fashion it into living space. Nothing fancy. I was thinking six bedrooms and a small bathroom with a toilet and standing shower.”
“Six bedrooms?” Kane stuck his head out of the kitchen. “How bigisthis extra space?”
“Not big.” He laid out Matt’s sketches on the table. “Less than fourteen hundred square feet, but the rooms would be small, something like a hundred by a hundred-fifty feet each. Enough for a bed and a small dresser. It’s not supposed to be the Four Seasons. Nobody’s looking for luxury. They just need a place where they’re not afraid to close their eyes. Where they’ll still have their shoes when they wake up. And they don’t have to pay for it with their bodies or their self-respect.”
Amanda took the mug Kane carried in and sipped as she glanced at the mock-up. Her face twisted, and she spit the offending liquid back into the cup. “What the hell, Hale?”
It had to be bad if she was calling her husband by his last name.
“It’s a kale smoothie. The guy at the store said it’s full of antioxidants—”
She shoved the cup back into his hand. “It tastes like feet. Just get me a water.”
Robby pressed on. “After we get past the construction cost and labor, maybe just a monthly stipend. It doesn’t have to be a lot, just enough to offset the additional rent and utilities. Paul’s church has money set aside for some general funding. In the meantime, this could be good for Cooper too.”
Her focused visibly sharpened. Amanda was nothing if not a savvy businesswoman. She’d grown her stepfather’s company since she’d taken the reins, and now they worked in a partnership with one of the biggest developers in Atlanta.
“The owner’s husband works in marketing. He’s working up a publicity promotion to raise awareness, not only for the Q-Center but for our primary corporate sponsor as well. We’re talking a major digital push as well as appearances on some of the local midday lifestyle shows. It’s free advertisement, but it also demonstrates the quality of our work through the pictures and videos we’ll show of the expansion. And it will give you an opportunity to reinforce Cooper’s commitment to giving back to the community.”
“It’s also a tax write-off,” she mused, picking up the sketches. And he knew he had her. “How do you propose we get started?”
***
Matt
The excited energy positively rolled off Robby as they stood outside the community center on Peachtree, and Matt bit back a smile with the glimmer of the old Robby he’d grown to know and love.
Love? He shook his head. It was just an expression.
Over the past week, his friend—boyfriend?—had transformed from nervous and tongue-tied to confident and secure. Like someone had flipped a switch. He was still Robby, of course, but…older.
Either way, the man was hotter than ever. Everything that drew Matt before, but…more. Sadly, he’d had no time to really explore it with daddy-duty all week. Robby had been great about it. Honestly, the guy was great about everything. Still, he was ready to have a free night to himself tomorrow.
“What time is Martin supposed to meet us here?” Xander looked down one end of the street, then the other, running his hand through his black hair which was seeing more traces of gray every day. The foreman was a pretty chill guy, but he was a stickler for punctuality.
Robby checked his phone. “He should be here anytime now. You know Mr. Hayes?”
Xander grunted. “Sure. Martin and I both go to Paul’s church. And Martin’s daughter used to babysit my son when he was little.”
“It’s really nice of him to rent us this space for so cheap,” Robby murmured.
“Nice has nothing to do with it,” an unfamiliar voice boomed behind him. “This storefront has been empty for months. I’d rather rent it to a friend at a discount than let it keep growing cobwebs. Besides, Paul’s a good man. If I didn’t trust him and believe in what he’s doing here, I wouldn’t have leased him the initial space to begin with.”
“Martin.” Xander reached out and shook the newcomer’s hand. “Show us what we’re working with.”
Mr. Hayes stood a few inches shorter than the foreman, though he had a much heartier midsection. Wheat-colored hair ringed the outside of his mostly bald head, and a graying mustache topped his upper lip. He led them through a nondescript door into an empty space.
Xander wasted no time in starting his inventory of the property. Robby followed, taking notes on his clipboard as Xander rattled off observations about the walls, the electrical, and the pipes.
Matt drew up some bare-bones plans, based on his initial sketches, showing the placement and dimensions of the bedrooms and single bath. He loved working with plans, taking the pictures in his head and putting them on paper with the idea it could one day be something tangible, a space where people could live or work or just…be.
