“No, I haven’t had the time. Or the budget. I’m waiting on my new credit card to arrive.”
“Oh, that’s right. Where have you been staying?”
“I tried the backpacker’s hostel,” I start with. “But they only take credit cards for payment.”
“Oh.” She sips her coffee and listens carefully.
“So, the women’s shelter was my only option. I told them my husband was abusive. I’m not wrong.”
“No. No, you’re not.” She seems to be choosing her words wisely.
“My new card should arrive tomorrow.”
“Well, if it doesn’t, I’m happy to help however I can. I’ve only booked my hotel through Sunday, but if you need, I could call and ask for a room with an extra bed or a cot at least.”
“No, that’s kind of you, but there’s not much difference between a cot at the shelter and a cot in a fancy hotel room. I’m asleep, so I don’t even know the difference.”
“Yes, but still…” She takes another sip of her coffee. “I hate to think of you sleeping in a room with a bunch of strangers.”
“It’s safe,” I whisper. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?” she inquires.
“There’s just this one lady…Gertie. She’s so intimidating, I end up sleeping with my laptop and phone under my pillow just so she doesn’t steal them. And speaking of my phone, I haven’t even been using it much since our last session.”
“Oh?” She curls her palms around her cup and leans in.
“I’ve just been thinking how little it brings to my life. So I haven’t been on social media in two days. I’ve been using my time at the shelter to really pause and reflect.”
“This all sounds wonderful.” She finishes her coffee and then slides it to the edge of the table. “What do you say we go visit where you’ve been staying?”
“Why?” I can’t suppress the cringe, just thinking of going back there so soon.
“I just want to make sure you’re safe. And I wouldn’t mind going for a drive. I have this rental car. I might as well use it.”
“Okay,” I say, packing up my things and then pushing my arms through my coat.
A few minutes later, we’re heading south on Highway 50.The small shelter I’m staying at is only a few miles out of the main village. We’ll be there in less than five minutes, and yet every moment feels like torture. I’m not used to letting people get so close—and worse, I haven’t even fully decided what I should tell her and what I should keep to myself.
The rest of the ride is silent until I point her into the parking lot of the women’s services building. I’m suddenly embarrassed, but then, what does this woman mean to me? She can’t affect my brand, and she doesn’t know Dean or Jesika. She hardly knows about Mia—I’ve mentioned little about my online persona to her, but I don’t doubt that if she wanted to, she could find me with a few quick internet searches.
“My! You’re back early. Wanna help with slop duty in the kitchen tonight?” Gertie is lingering near the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette, when we pull into a parking spot.
Kelly looks cautious and reserved. She’s probably regretting that she offered to bring me here. “I think you should stay with me. Your credit card will be here tomorrow. It’s no big deal.”
My mind whirs as another headache builds. Her offer, without a doubt, violates some sort of patient-therapist agreement, but I’d say yes to just about anyone so I don’t have to spend another night in the shelter.
“Are you sure?” I breathe.
“I think it’s for the best, dear.” Kelly wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me to her in a quick hug. “I won’t even charge you for the overtime counseling sessions.”
We both laugh, and it’s then I think that this woman might be my chance. With her help, I can gather support and resources and make the best decision for my future. She is my lifeline.
“Thank you. Your generosity means more than words can even say.”
“Great. Let’s pack you up and get you out of here.”
I smile sweetly, thankful for the generosity of this woman. Her friendship has been a blessing, and I sense that she will be integral to securing my freedom and giving me another chance at life.
