“I can get her out of there,” she says into my chest.
I put my hands on her shoulders and pull her away, just enough to see her eyes, and tell her, “I am so proud of you, Rowan. Happy Friday.”
“Happy Friday, Mr. Fowler,” she echoes. “Can I take some boxes from storage? I want to get us packed as fast as possible.”
“Of course. Take anything you need.”
“Do you think he’ll sober up? Like, maybe this will be a reality check?”
No. But I won’t tell her that.
“I would like to see that happen for you,” I tell her. “Change of plans.” I swipe my car keys from my desk. “You and I are going to grab some donuts to celebrate your win, then you’re taking the rest of the day off.”
I follow through with that promise and take her to my favorite donut shop, a little farther from the office than I like to go during work hours, but this is a special occasion. The staff here are on a first name basis with me and usually try to give me deals or extra shit I didn’t order, so I always make up for it by throwing a hundred dollar bill or two into the tip jar.
It’s a family-run shop, and I know they give free donuts and pastries to unhoused people who come in needing something to eat or a warm place to just sit down for a minute, so I’m happy to give them my business on a regular basis.
Upon approaching the counter, I order two baker’s dozen boxes, and instruct Rowan to pick out whatever she wants to fill it.
“Colt!” She laughs, “I can’t eat thirteen donuts!”
“Well I’m going to. Macie can help with yours. It’s her party, too.”
A warm smile spreads across her face and she runs along the glass display, pointing to pastries of various shapes, colors, and flavors, until her box is full.
I notice that at least half of them have colorful frosting and rainbow sprinkles on top of them – to take home for her sister, no doubt.
We take our boxes to one of the small tables against the wall and I make a show of cracking my knuckles before flipping the lid of mine open and grabbing a donut.
Rowan cackles when she looks over to my box. “Of course you got all glazed.”
“I’m a man of simple pleasures,” I say with a shrug.
We sit and munch on our treats for a while, mostly in silence, because I don’t want to pry too far about the details of her victory.
It isn’t until she’s halfway through her second donut that she pauses and stares at me for a long time, chewing at the inside of her lower lip.
“Are you okay?”
“I just…” She looks down, pressing her lips together, then looks back at me. “I’m sorry. For acting the way I have been.”
“Don’t apologize.” I pick up a napkin and wipe off my fingers. “You were hurt.”
“And I hurt you back. That wasn’t right.”
“Sometimes good people do stupid things.”
“All people?”
I let out a breath and nod, just once. “Every single one.” I tap my fingers on the table, trying to talk myself outof asking, but I need to know. “Are you okay, Rowan? The partying, the strange guy picking you up…”
“Oh god,” she says, an embarrassed blush trailing across her cheeks. “That was a ride I ordered. I didn’t do anything with him.”
“I didn’t— uh...you’re alright, though? Really?”
She nods, holding up her half-donut. “Today, I am fantastic. My water bottle was right.”
•
