It’s none of my business.
I continue replacing the tablecloths in the section I’ve been working in, trying to keep my focus on what I’m doing rather than Noah, but he storms through the restaurant like a gust of howling wind and pounces into the kitchen, letting the door swing back and forth a few times, showing he’s long gone .
I shouldn’t wonder.
It’s not my place to follow him to find out what’s wrong.
We’re just friends.
Although, I suppose a friend could worry too. I do the thing I’m not supposed to do and follow Noah into the kitchen, assuming he went up the side stairwell to his office.
I look for the light in the stairwell hall after I close the door behind me, but as I’m reaching through the dark, running my hand over the wall for the switch, I end up hitting a person.
“Ashley?” Noah’s voice whispers in question.
“Why are you in the dark?” I ask.
I stop looking for the light because it doesn’t seem necessary at this moment. Noah’s arms wrap around my neck, and his head falls to my shoulder. “One of my deployed brothers was just hit by an IED. They’re flying him to Germany right now.”
My heart sinks. My stomach twists into a giant knot. I think about the woman from the carnival and her daughter, her late husband, and the fact that I’ve been living in a bubble most of my life.
“I’m so sorry, Noah,” I whisper, hugging him back with all the strength I can muster.
“No, I’m sorry. I should—I need a few minutes,” he says, releasing his arms from my neck. I hear the thud of his heavy steps, but I can’t see anything within the dark confines of this hallway. His door opens, the sun blasts light down the stairwell, and I open the door behind me to finish my shift.
Noah didn’t return to the dining area before my shift was over, so I sent him a short text message, hoping to find out if he’s doing okay. Poor guy.
Me: I’m thinking about you. If you need anything, call me.
The moment I walk out of the restaurant, I feel like I need to send Olivia, the widowed mom from the carnival, a message. All these happenings make me think I have a bigger purpose than just watching people's lives fall apart. It’s totally out of nowhere and probably a little weird, but everything I saw in her eyes the other night said she desperately needed a friend. I could be wrong, but in case I’m right, I should be a good person.
I saved her number in my phone, so I pull up a blank message field and stumble through my words to come up with the right thing to say.
Me: Hey, Olivia, this Ashley Spencer. We met the other night at the carnival. I know this might be weird since we don’t know each other, but I wanted to see how you’re doing today.
I’m surprised and thrilled when a response pops right up.
Olivia: Wow. You are the sweetest person I’ve met in a long time. I can’t believe you actually reached out. Thank you, Ashley. This means a lot. I’m okay today. Not great, but okay.
Keeping an eye on where I’m walking so I avoid face planting into any more street lamps, I type out a response.
Me: We should have dinner tonight if you’re free?
I’m being forward, but I jump into the water head first, and it’s not the worst way to live until I end up in situations like the one I’m currently in.
Olivia: I would love that. Is it okay if Mia comes?
Me: Absolutely. We can grab a pizza and sit out on the beach by my house if you’d like?
Olivia: I might be tearing up at the thought of your kindness. Is six okay?
Me: Six is perfect. No tears. We’ll have some wine and become friends.
Olivia: You’re amazing.
I’ve never done this before, basically asked someone if they wanted to go out on a girl-friend date, but it feels right. Plus, I could use a friend around here too.
My heart feels a little lighter as I make my way into the development, but as soon as I walk through the front door, my gut starts to burn like I’ve eaten too much spicy food. I forgot what I left behind. I tried to forget what I left behind.
