A couple of tables away, Gregory was thinking back on the events of the day while he ate his swordfish-steak dinner. That afternoon, he had encountered the girl who called herself Lisa in one of the shops. She had asked to speak to him privately, and had told him about how she had taken his advice and turned herself in to the FBI agent. She said Agent Flynn had placed her under house arrest, leaving her free on her own recognizance for the duration of the cruise but with the condition that she always stay in a public place or be accompanied by someone else.
She had then asked him if he would be willing to take her to the Circean Delight, where she hoped to meet Agent Flynn for dinner. Gregory had agreed, having nothing better to do. When they had arrived, Lisa had requested a table for herself on the balcony against the railing. From there, she could be seen be a number of people in the restaurant, but no one else was sitting at the surrounding tables, so she would be able to have a private conversation if Agent Flynn showed up. Since he was there, Gregory had decided to stay and have dinner himself, taking one of the tables on the lower level. He glanced now up at the balcony railing. He could see Lisa sitting there by herself; it didn't look like Agent Flynn was going to be joining her after all. Poor girl; she'd really suffered over the last month.
Gregory finished off the last of the swordfish, and went to work on what remained of the baked potato. He continued his reflections on the day's events. Before his meeting with Lisa, he had had lunch with an interesting fellow who called himself Pyrrhus. They had talked about all the volunteering Emily had been doing, and that had led to a discussion about how each person could do their part to help out on the ship. And that led Gregory to wonder if he himself was really doing all he could. Gregory had sent out a message on the ship's journal system offering his services as a minister. He had offered to take prayer requests, to give advice and comfort, or just to be a friendly face that someone could talk to. There had not been much in the way of responses to that message, despite the traumatic experiences so many people on this ship had had. But had he really done all he could do? Should he be more proactive? Perhaps he should keep an eye out for people who seemed to be having difficulties, and offer his help face-to-face.
As Gregory took the last few bites of his meal, he couldn't help but notice the man sitting a couple of tables over from him. The man looked...despondent. If he was going to be more proactive, he might as well start now. After telling the waiter he didn't want any dessert, he arose from the table and approached the sad-looking man.
"Hello; my name is Gregory," he said with a smile. "I hope I'm not intruding, but I couldn't help but notice that you seem rather depressed. Sometimes it helps to talk about what's bothering you. Would you like to discuss it? If you'd rather not, just tell me so and I'll be on my way. I really do think it might help to get it off your chest, though."