"Oh, honey," Billie said, jumping up, grabbing a chair, and pulling it toward the end of the table. "Here, have a seat. I can spot insincerity when I hear it. You're in a rough spot, yeah?" she asked, patting my hand when—despite not knowing why I did so, I sat down. "Your brother, he must be out of work, right? And you're taking on all the financial burden on top of his care. And getting attacked."
"Is she psychic?" I asked, looking over at Hope.
"Seems like it sometimes," Hope said, shrugging. "Did they get the guy?"
"No. There were no witnesses. Or cameras. I, ah, I'm lucky I'm alive, I guess. Luckily, one of the customers found me. He got me to the hospital. He even sat with me since my brother couldn't be with me," I said, smiling at the memory, even if the disappointment over his absence mingled in with it.
"Oh, really?" the blonde asked, giving a strange look to Billie. "That was very sweet of him."
"He came back every night after to take out the trash for me since I couldn't lift the bags," I added, realizing suddenly how nice it was to have women to talk to. Even if they were strangers. Back at my old job, I had coworker-friends. But here, I worked alone. Sure, Zara was sweet, but we didn't cross paths that often.
"Oh, wow, what a nice guy," Gracie said, again giving a pointed look toward Hope.
"He really was," I said, hoping the ache hadn't slipped into my voice.
"Was?" Hope asked, brows drawing down.
"Oh, yeah. He just... he used to come every night and hang out. Then just... on Saturday, he was coming in, then he left before he even came in. I haven't seen or heard from him since. I've kind of been worried, to be honest."
"That's kind of douchy," Hope said, brows pinched.
"I mean... I'm sure he has a reason. He doesn't seem like a douchy guy," I said, shrugging.
To that, the girls all shared a look, one I didn't know them all well enough to interpret.
"I'm Billie, by the way," the redhead said. "And this is Hope and Gracie. You know, we all take self-defense classes in town if you would be interested sometime."
"No charge," Gracie was quick to add. "Our aunts own the gym," she added. "And they always give women who have been through an attack free lessons. It's fun. And really boosts your confidence. Say you'll come. It's just forty-five minutes. If you hate it, you hate it. We won't be mad."
"Come on, you know you want to," Billie said.
Maybe that was just what I needed. Something in my life that didn't involve work or chores or nursing my brother or pining over a man who clearly wasn't as into me as I was into him.
And, hey, it was a weirdly random way to go about finding them, but maybe these women and I could be friends. I could use some friends.
"Well, if our schedules can line up, I think it would be fun," I said, giving them a grateful smile. "I'm Holly, by the way," I said, waving at my name tag. "This is just—"
"So strange dudes don't talk to you like they know you," Billie guessed. "We have fake names when we go to the bars together for the same reason."
"Are they ordering sometime this year, or what?" Don snapped from the window.
"Ew," Gracie hissed under her breath.
"He probably wants to go take his tenth break of the night," I said, shrugging as I moved to stand.
I took their orders then to shut up Don.
A couple of other tables came and went, but the girls kept pulling me back, kept asking me more about myself. And, God, it felt so good to be able to talk about myself for a change. With people who seemed genuinely interested.
It was selfish of me to even think it, but my whole life had been about Shep and his healing for so long that I sort of felt like I was losing myself a bit.
By the time my shift was done, the girls and I had worked out a day that worked for us all. And I had something to look forward to for the first time in ages.
__
I wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to wear to a self-defense class, so I went with some old leggings and a tight tee before I helped Shep climb into the car for his long therapy session.
Things were still incredibly strained between us. We only seemed to communicate when there was no option but to do so. Like when I told him that his meals were ready, or he told me about upcoming doctors appointments.
If he thought my excited tapping of my hands on the steering wheel was weird, he said nothing.
"I got it," he hissed after I set up his chair beside his door.