I won’t even get to say goodbye. I know he said I could stay here a few days, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t even know whose place this is, and Derek is gone. After tossing the hospital clothes into the trash, knowing I’ll never get the smoke smell out, I look for a piece of paper and pen. That’s when I see a note from him taped to the front door. I pick it up and read it.
The note makes butterflies take flight in my stomach. He’s so nice, and I don’t want to take advantage of that. He’s obviously just doing his job. He’s a fireman. He saves people for a living. I’ve already overstayed my welcome. I debate taking his number, but I worry that in a moment of weakness I might take advantage of him. I could tell that Derek has a few of his own demons. I know the look of pain and loss. I could see it in Derek’s eyes. I’d seen it in my mother’s, and even mine. He doesn’t need any of my demons to add to the pile.
Derek,
Thank you for everything you did for me last night. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. Your small act of kindness reminds me that there are decent men still out there in the world.
Fia
I stare down at the note, wondering if this will be the last contact I’ll ever have with him. The knot in my stomach grows more at the idea, and I feel a little nauseated. I shake my head and let the note fall to the counter before making my way to the front door to exit the townhouse. The door locks behind me, and it’s then I realize I have no idea where I am and that I have no money. Or anything, for that matter. All that safety I was feeling in that house slips away, leaving a cold anxiety behind.
Luckily a taxi passes, and I flag it down. I’m just going to have to ask one of the girls at the women’s shelter to cover my fare until I get a chance to go to the bank at some point. When I get to the shelter, Nora is standing outside and covers the tab for me while I give her the Cliff Notes of last night.
“You alright?” she asks, looking me over. I look a mess, and I know it.
“I will be,” I tell her as she follows me into the shelter after entering the code to get into the building. Things might be a mess, but I know I can pick myself up. I’ve been in worse situations in my life, and my mom and I picked ourselves up and pulled through. I’ll do the same. I head to one of the storage rooms in search of clothes. I hate to take from the bin, but I really don’t have an option right now.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” I look over at her and see the worry in her face.
“I’m fine, promise. I’m just a little lost on what to do next. I lost everything. I don’t even have an ID.” Without an ID, how am I even going to get money from my own bank account? I let out a long breath as I dig through the bin, finally finding a pair of jeans in my size and a shirt.
“Your old ID is still in your desk.”
“Oh, my God, you’re right!” A splash of relief hits me at that. I’d gotten a new ID when I’d moved into my apartment.
“C-cup?” Nora asks, motioning to my boobs. I just nod as she goes to the closet that houses all the new bras and underwear. She finds me some and tosses them to me.
I’m going to have to make a donation after this. Guilt from taking from here weighs heavily on me. Women and kids here have it way worse than I do. They need these things and don’t even have a penny to their names. I work here because I want to give back, not take. I quickly dress, wanting to get to my desk and see what needs to be done. I hate being behind, and I know work will take my mind off of everything, including this empty feeling that has settled in since I left the townhouse.
“Where are you staying?” Nora asks, following me into the office.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. I haven’t gotten that far yet. Hell, I haven’t gotten anywhere it seems.
“You know you can stay here,” Nora offers. She is always on call and has a little cot in our shared office. She loves this place just as much as I do. Nora left her abusive husband a few years back but still doesn’t like to be alone, so being on call and staying here works for her and makes her feel safe. I am not taking her cot. She needs this place. I can make do. I will make do.