“As soon as we get you warm.”
“You don’t hate me?” Emma whispers.
“Never,” Laney answers for both of us.
“I thought you hated me,” I tell her, anddammit, my voice cracks.
That does it.
Em starts sobbing all over again.
Because I’m an idiot.
But I’m an idiot who can fix this. “You really can shove me down the hill in a hamster ball if it would make you feel better, even if you’re not mad at me,” I say.
Em laughs through her tears. “Stop. I’m not pushing you down the hill in that hamster ball.”
“Theo would probably buy you a house if he got to watch,” Laney says.
Emma stops crying.
I look up at Laney.
She cracks a grin.
And then all three of us bust up laughing hysterically.
It’s notnormal.
Not yet.
But it’s a solid start.
25
Grey
Sabrina isn’tat work today. She called insick. But she’s not sick.
Not according to Shirlene, who stopped in for a cup of coffee and mentioned she’d seen Sabrina leaving House of Curry with a to-go bag big enough to feed six linebackers around lunchtime. Or according to Myrtle, who came in hoping for a lemon scone near the end of the day and was apparently offended enough that Sabrina hadn’t made them before calling in sick that she was willing to lean in and sayshe’s not sick, I heard she’s headed to Silver Horn tonight with Emma and Laney. Or according to Fiona, who came in for a sandwich, looked me up and down, and saidno wonder she picked today for the mental health day she’s needed for months.
Like Sabrina doesn’t want to be near me after the number of times I’ve crashed her private times the past week.
Like I’m a damn stalker.
“You havesucha problem,” Zen mutters to me multiple times throughout the day.
“Yeah, I can’t find a company to make my fiberglass bee,” I reply once.
Or another time, “My SCOBY went moldy. Definitely a problem.” Can’t make kombucha with moldy SCOBY. Must not have sanitized the jar properly.
Zen doesn’t believe that’s my problem.
I don’t believe that’s my problem.
But they don’t call me on it.
Out loud.
