"Hey, how are you feeling, Bernie?" Collins smiled friendlily as the old man with snowy white hair and unkempt beard approached the table. She was already pretty tired and frazzled trying to move as efficiently as possible, but it was the right thing to do to greet someone when you know them. 
Bernard was a war veteran who lived down the road from her and Charlie. He'd always sit outside on the rocking chair on his porch and smoke from a pipe like a cartoon character and just stare down troublemakers that dared step anywhere near his weed infested yard. Kids feared him and made up stories about how he knew how to kill a man with just a penny and a walkie talkie during his time serving in the Vietnam War. 
Although, he was always really nice to her and Charlie for some reason. She recalled the many days she'd spent sitting on his porch with the pretty little rusted wind chimes playing over her head, listening to him tell stories about what it was like living in the 60s. He mostly just talked about The Beach Boys and all the protests, never about what it was like fighting in the actual war, which Collins was fine with. She always wondered if the rumor about him was true, but it wasn't worth upsetting the man to satiate her own curiosity. 
With the older she got, the less she started coming by, and Collins never really ever thought about why Bernie had such a soft spot for her and Charlie until she had a better understanding of who her parents were. Bernie had sat on his porch for years and watched her dad trip over his own feet, drunk in the early afternoon when he walked Collins to preschool. And he'd scowled at her mom's shady drug dealer with the vulgar tattoos every time he saw him drive past, knowing that Charlie and Collins were in the house making their own dinner because no adult was sober enough to do it for them. 
But he minded his business, much like a lot of people usually did on the cut. He never criticized their parents to their face or called DCS to have Charlie and Collins taken away because it wasn't his place. And stuff like that raises some flags around their side of the island; people don't like cops being called or losing loyal customers, and they tend not to let it go unpunished. The best he could do as a simple old man was let some kids hang around in his yard to keep them away from all that nastiness for as many hours in the day as he could. It was more than anyone else ever did for them, but of course, it was a luxury only Charlie and Collins were permitted, which sort of made it even more special. 
Anyhow, he'd been coming to the shelter for a long time, way before Collins even started working there, so he was always a friendly face to come across by during her shifts. Well, he was a familiar face, Bernie had a resting scowl that always remained which didn't exactly translate to people as inviting when they saw it. 
"Still waiting to bite the bullet, sweetheart." Bernie replied hoarsely. They both knew his voice was rough from the combination of old age and years of tobacco smoke, but Collins knew better than to lecture him about it. 
Collins tsked at him. "Don't be like that, Bernie. It's a beautiful day today, you plan on enjoying it outside after you eat?"
"Better than sitting in the damn house in this heat. At the very least I can feel a breeze sitting on my chair outside under the shade."
"See? You're already looking on the sunnier side of things." Collins grinned at the man before handing him his plate of food back, watching as he rolled his eyes and proceeded down the line. 
Loud snickers from down the table made Collins turn to look at Topper and his friend to see what was so funny. She caught them glance back between her and Bernie before turning back to each other and laughing some more, as if they were making a joke out of her. Her smile faltered and she quickly looked down, swallowing back the lump in her throat while trying to gather herself once again.