Except for some of them, that wasn’t true and I knew it. Lost to their addictions or mental health problems, or the lasting impact of both, there was no getting out for so many. Just getting by.
It could have been me.
There were times I could convince myself I was different. But the truth was, it had been stupid luck. A wrong suite number. A ridiculous interview.
Timing, luck and one man’s whim.
I tried to shake off the feeling that none of this should be happening and brushed my hand down the front of my dress.
A dress I’d bought a few weeks ago. An impulse buy. I’d been looking for practical things like a new bra and underwear, and I’d passed a store that had this dress in the window. It was a deep forest green, and if I was being honest, it reminded me of E.G.’s eyes.
A silky material, it buttoned up the front and a string tie in the back pulled it in at the waist. I’d left the top three buttons undone. Then two, then three, then two again.
Now it was three. I was leaving it at three. It was supposed to be three. The woman at the store had said so.
I was one hundred percent okay with three buttons.
I rang the doorbell and immediately panicked. But between the wine, my purse and the tin of cookies, I had absolutely no time to fasten a button before the door opened, and it was Rebecca.
“Anna! So glad you’re here.”
Swallowing, I said thank you and followed her inside. The house was as intimidating as I remembered, only this time when Rebecca directed me back toward the kitchen where everyone was gathered, I could see pots all over the top of the island.
And they all appeared to be steaming.
“Anna!” Jackie called out as soon as she saw me, waving a wooden spoon in the air. “Glad you made it. Especially after volunteering all day.”
“How was it?” Evan asked me, one beer in his hand while he gave me a shoulder hug with the other. Not sure how I was supposed to respond to that, so I focused on not dropping any of my gifts. “Everything go all right at the shelter? Anyone get out of line?”
That was how E.G.’s family greeted me.
E.G., however, who was sitting at the end of the island, barely looked up in my direction. I couldn’t make out the expression that passed over his face before he gave me a weak chin nod and then turned to leave the kitchen.
“Uh, yeah. It was fine. One old guy wasn’t pleased with the sweet potatoes and made a bit of a fuss, but we got him some extra stuffing and it all worked out.”
I didn’t tell them I knew the old guy. His name was Gus and he was a piece of work. Threatened to spit in the sweet potatoes if he didn’t get more stuffing, the asshole. I shut him down hard and that worked to keep everyone else in line.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Evan asked me.
“Sure. Wine is fine. White or red, whatever is open. I brought you this. It’s a Sauv-vig-non Blanc. Did I say that right?”
“Very close,” Jackie said, smiling as she took the bottle from me in what felt like a choreographed move. Like she was just moving between the stove, the oven, the island and back to the stove in one elegant dance move.
I peeked out over the island and saw the round circles underneath the pots.
“I know,” Jackie said, reading my confusion. “I’m cooking on magic! Grant called it something. Convection, I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Where is Grant?” Rebecca muttered. “Did he leave to go watch football, seriously?”
“I also brought cookies.”
“Cool,” Rebecca said, taking the tin from my hand.
“They’re not fancy. Just some break and bakes, but I didn’t burn them.”
“Anna, relax,” Rebecca ordered. “Take some wine and go find Grant and tell him to be nicer to his guest.”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
