A Place at the Table
1195 Words
Roxy followed Mama Beatrice into the dining hall.
She wasn't sure what she expected.
Maybe a room filled with children sitting quietly.
Maybe something more organized.
Something closer to the charity events she had attended with her father.
Rows of tables.
Perfect arrangements.
People smiling for the cameras.
This was nothing like that.
And somehow...
It was better.
The dining hall was filled with movement.
Children carried plates to their seats.
Volunteers moved between tables, making sure everyone had enough food.
Someone in the corner was trying to fix a speaker that kept cutting in and out.
A little girl was proudly showing another child a drawing she had made.
Nobody seemed to be rushing.
Nobody seemed to be pretending.
They were simply living.
"Sit there, baby."
Mama Beatrice pointed toward an empty chair at the end of one of the tables.
Roxy hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
Mama Beatrice looked at her.
"Did I stutter?"
A small laugh escaped Roxy.
"No."
"Good. Then sit."
Roxy sat down.
The chair was slightly uneven.
The table had scratches across the surface.
The plates didn't match.
Yet somehow...
She felt more comfortable here than she had in rooms decorated with priceless furniture.
Leo dropped into the seat beside her.
"You got lucky."
Roxy glanced at him.
"How?"
"You got the good chair."
She looked down at the chair.
"The good chair?"
He nodded seriously.
"The other one makes a noise."
He leaned closer and whispered,
"Like it's crying."
Roxy covered her mouth to hide her laugh.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
As if proving his point, a child across the table sat down on a different chair.
Creeeak.
Everyone looked over.
The little boy sighed.
"See?"
Roxy laughed.
A real laugh.
One she didn't have to force.
Mama Beatrice noticed.
She didn't say anything.
She simply smiled and walked back toward the kitchen.
A few moments later, plates began appearing on the table.
Chicken.
Rice.
Vegetables.
Fresh bread.
Nothing complicated.
Nothing designed to impress.
But the smell alone made Roxy realise she hadn't eaten properly since morning.
Leo watched her pick up her fork.
"I knew it."
Roxy looked at him.
"You really enjoy being right, don't you?"
He smiled.
"Yes."
She shook her head.
"You know, most people would pretend they don't."
"Why?"
The question was so genuine that she paused.
"Because sometimes people don't like admitting when they're wrong."
Leo thought about that.
"That sounds tiring."
Roxy looked at him.
"It can be."
He nodded.
"Then maybe people should stop doing it."
She stared at him for a moment.
Seven years old.
And somehow he made things sound simple.
Maybe because children hadn't learned yet how to complicate everything.
Across the table, a teenage girl placed her elbow beside Leo's plate.
"You're bothering her."
Leo looked offended.
"I'm being welcoming."
"You're interrogating her."
"I'm learning."
The girl looked at Roxy apologetically.
"Ignore him."
Roxy smiled.
"It's okay."
"I'm Tariq, by the way."
The voice came from behind her.
Roxy turned.
A young man stood there carrying a stack of books.
He looked to be in his mid-twenties.
Calm.
Observant.
The kind of person who noticed things without making people feel watched.
"I help out around here," he explained.
Roxy nodded.
"I'm Roxy."
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Nice to meet you, Roxy."
There was no curiosity about her last name.
No recognition.
No sudden change in expression.
Just a simple introduction.
She hadn't realised how much she needed that.
"You found your way here by yourself?"
Roxy looked toward Leo.
"Actually, he found me."
Tariq looked at Leo.
"That doesn't surprise me."
"What?"
"He has a habit of collecting people."
Leo looked proud.
"I do not."
"You brought home a stray cat last month."
"It needed help."
"You brought a broken bicycle home before that."
"It needed help."
Tariq looked at Roxy.
"And now you."
Roxy laughed.
"I see."
Leo shrugged.
"People need people."
The simple statement quieted the table for a moment.
Roxy looked down at her plate.
People need people.
A strange ache formed in her chest.
Because she had spent years surrounded by people.
Yet she had never truly felt like she belonged anywhere.
Until today.
After lunch, Leo dragged her outside to see the mural he had helped paint.
"This one is mine."
He pointed proudly at a small blue handprint near the bottom.
Roxy crouched beside him.
"You painted this?"
"Yep."
"It's beautiful."
Leo looked at her suspiciously.
"You actually mean that?"
Roxy smiled.
"I do."
He nodded, satisfied.
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because some people say things just because they think they should."
The answer caught her off guard.
Again.
This child had a way of saying things she didn't expect.
"You know," Roxy said softly, "you're very wise."
Leo grinned.
"Mama Beatrice says I'm dramatic."
"That too."
He laughed.
The afternoon passed faster than Roxy expected.
Too fast.
She helped children organise books.
She listened to stories about school.
She watched two teenagers argue over a basketball game and then immediately share a drink afterward.
She learned that the old speaker only worked if someone tapped it twice.
She learned that Mama Beatrice always made too much food because "someone is always hungry."
And she learned something else.
Nobody here cared about what she could provide.
They cared that she was there.
The sun had begun lowering when Roxy finally looked at her phone.
Her heart sank.
Several hours had passed.
A missed call.
One message.
From Sarah.
Are you alright? Let me know when you're heading back.
Roxy stared at the screen.
Reality slowly returned.
The mansion.
The dinner.
Victor.
Her father's expectations.
The life waiting behind those gates.
She slipped the phone into her pocket.
Leo noticed.
"You have to go?"
The disappointment in his voice was small.
But she heard it.
"I think so."
He nodded, trying to hide it.
"People have places they have to be."
Roxy smiled sadly.
"You're right."
Mama Beatrice approached carrying a container.
"Here."
Roxy blinked.
"What is that?"
"Food."
"Oh, no. I couldn't take—"
Mama Beatrice raised an eyebrow.
"Are you going to argue with me again?"
Roxy immediately closed her mouth.
Leo smiled.
"She's scary when she does that."
"I heard you."
"Sorry."
"You aren't."
"No."
Everyone laughed.
Roxy accepted the container.
"Thank you."
Mama Beatrice squeezed her hand gently.
"Come back when you can."
The words were simple.
But they stayed with her.
Come back.
Not if you have time.
Not if you can help.
Just...
Come back.
Roxy looked around The Sanctuary one more time.
The cracked walls.
The mismatched furniture.
The children running through the halls.
The people who had welcomed her without knowing anything about her.
For the first time in years...
She didn't want to leave.
But she had to.
Outside, the evening air touched her face as she stepped onto the sidewalk.
Leo stood at the entrance waving.
"Bye, Roxy!"
She waved back.
"Bye, Leo."
She walked a few steps before turning around.
The Sanctuary was still there.
Still glowing with warmth.
Still waiting.
And for the first time in a long time...
Roxanne Sterling had somewhere she wanted to return to.
- Writer
