I chew on my lip and tilt my head back and forth before sighing. “I have an idea,” but it sounds more like a question. As I use the toilet, I put the phone on mute, relieving my full bladder.
“Hello? Are you there?” I hear her snort into the phone. “Did you mute me?”
Flushing the toilet and washing my hands, I unmute. “I’m here. And yes, I was peeing.” I grab a new toothbrush from the middle drawer, rip the package open, and apply some toothpaste to the stiff bristles.
“Fine, I guess that’s allowed.” She pauses, her voice softening. “How are you?” she asks, this time with concern etching her words.
I pull my hair around, one hand sweeping it over my shoulder as I spit into the sink. “Honestly…” I stop, thinking of what to say, taking a sip of water to rinse my mouth and spitting the remnants of mint paste into the sink. “I don’t know.” I sigh. “I’m going to figure it out, though.”
“Right.” She stops like she wants to say more, but thinks better of it. “I know you will. I’ll be up to see you in a couple of weeks.” She sounds hopeful.
I nod even though she can’t see me. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. “Okay.”
“We can go out, like old times, maybe?” She hesitates. “Thatis, if you want to.”
I force a smile in the mirror. “I’d like that.” The lie flows from my lips.
“Yeah?” she asks. Skeptical of the way I agreed so readily.
“Yeah,” I reassure her. “Maybe that’s exactly what I need. To forget and live a little.”
“Definitely,” she counters with more confidence. The relief from her on the other end of the line is palpable.
“Great. So what are your plans now?” Savannah asks. I look around my room. “Are you going to just hang out?” I could, but the thought has me breaking into a cold sweat. I start the shower. The steam billows around as I grab a towel from the linen closet.
“I think I’m going to keep busy, you know? Maybe get a job?” I bite my nails, waiting for her response.
“I think that’s a good plan.” I hear her remove the phone from her ear to address someone. She returns to the phone, and I hear more voices in the background. “Hey, I’ll see you soon, lady. Call if you need anything at all,” she insists before disconnecting the call.
I step into the shower and let the spray hit my face as steam envelops me. I pump shampoo into my hands and lather it through my hair, massaging my scalp and rinsing it through to the ends as the foamy suds slide down my shoulders and hit the floor in audible clumps around my feet. I rinse it and repeat the same motions with my conditioner and body wash, letting the familiar motions settle my nerves. When I’m done, I shut off the water and towel off, hanging it on my hook behind the door. The soft feel of the rug on my feet wraps them in a sensation of warmth as I look through my closet for something to wear, but then I remember I left my bags by the door. Frowning, I pivot to the dresser instead, opening the drawer to find a thong and a bralette. Nestled beside them is the lavender sachet my mom tucked in there. I inhale the fresh scent wafting upward, and it makes me smile at the memory.
After I blow-dry my hair, I stroll out to the foyer where I left my bags last night, bringing them into my bedroom. I rifle through one bag and find a skirt and crop tee. “That will do indeed,” I say. “Great, now I’m talking to myself.”If I don’t answer myself back, then it’s okayis the rationale I use as I grab my hair, pull it back into a messy bun, and sit on the edge of my bed to lace my white leathersneakers.
I stare at the scattered items on my bed and floor. I planned on putting my things away. Really, I did. But now, I have a particular craving for Planet’s pancakes. I haven’t had an appetite in the past weeks, but I find myself salivating at the thought of these tasty concoctions, which makes me antsy to get there.
I park the car along the front of Main Street and lock the door behind me, although I don’t need to do that here. It’s a place where everyone knows each other. During the summer, tourists flock to the area, making it a bit more crowded, but the honest, good people here wouldn't bother with a few coins in the cup holder. The door chimes as I walk through, and the song “Drive It All Over Me” by My Bloody Valentine plays in the background. Odette is at the counter. Her long braids hang mid-back against her tawny skin. Her hazel eyes are speckled with flecks of green and brown that darken or lighten depending on the outfits she wears. Today, they look greener as she wears a moss green knit halter and white skort. Her penetrating stare locks me in place before recognition hits, and a smile spreads across her face.
“Nadia!” she shouts excitedly as she drops her towel mid-wipe to hug me. I embrace her, and the familiarity of the act makes me ache at the loss of my parents. We always came here together. “Take a seat, sweet girl. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
Odette brings over my stack of gingerbread pancakes along with a maple latte. I’m on my second latte when she slips into the booth across from me. I feel the zip of electric java flowing through my veins, licking my lips in appreciation and wiping away the excess froth. “God, that coffee is amazing, Odette.”
She lets out a laugh. Her raspy voice is a welcome sound. “That it is my sweet girl.” I know where this conversation is headed when she clasps her hands together, leaning forward. “So, tell me how you’re holding up? You know I’m here for you, right?” I avoid her stare and look out the window at the kids riding their bikes along the path around the town square.
“Well, you sure don’t beat around the bush, do you?” I snort, trying to mask the awkwardness. I feel her hand engulf mine and I swallow down the impulse to yank my hand back, instead forcingmyself to keep it there. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I just don’t want to be touched. These thoughts make me think that whatever happened to me broke me just a little.
She squeezes my hand. “Hey, Nadia. I am here for you.” Her voice is soft and comforting as she punctuates the last word. I turn toward her and see the promise in her kind eyes.
I nod once but don’t say anything about it. What could I say? “Do you need anything?” she repeats.
I clear my throat. “Kinda.” I pause. “I need a job. I think it would help to keep me busy.”
She smiles. “You plan on staying here this summer, then?”
I smile back at her, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Yeah.” I shrug. “I’m going to put in some applications.” I pause, wondering if I should say anything, but this woman knows me, and I feel safe talking to her, a familiarity from the years coming in here. “I don’t exactly know where I belong, but this seems like the place that feels more like home when I don’t have one anymore.”
She releases my hand and stands. Her movements are quick as she walks over to my side of the booth before plopping down into it and throwing her arm around my shoulder. She pulls me in, and my head instinctively rests on her shoulder. “Now, you know that isn’t true, sweet girl. You always have a home here, with us, and with the townspeople who have known you since you were a little girl.”
My throat tightens, and my words refuse to come, so instead of speaking, I simply nod my head. “Good,” she says. “Now,” she clasps her hands together, “tell me more about this job you are looking for.”
