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Jem’s stomach chooses that moment to let out a loud growl, and she slaps a hand to her abdomen. “Sorry. I missed lunch. It was bananas at the café today.”
I wave her off. “That’s fine. I was just about to eat if you wanted to join me?”
Her eyes light up and she nods. “Yes please. Boone’s working the night shift at the station, and I was going to just make a bowl of cereal when I got back home.”
“Sure. Come on.” I head back to the kitchen and quickly put the finishing touches on dinner.
“What’s in the box?”
Jem turns back to the box in question and then shrugs. “Just some things I thought you might like around here. Some bath rugs, a few lamps — that sort of thing. I have an area rug out in the back of the truck for the living room too. I know that you have the basics, because it’s Harlan and he doesn’t miss much, but I figured some decor would make this place a little homier for you and Audra.”
I stop with the guacamole spoon mid-stir and gape at the brunette in my kitchen.
“Oh. Um. Thank you?”
My eyes sting at the kindness of this family — again. It shouldn’t keep surprising me, that they’re going above and far beyond what any random person would do for a stranger, but it does.
“No thanks needed.” Jem waves off my hesitant gratitude. “Boone and I are living in a fifth wheel right now — we’re having a house built just outside of town — and I miss having more than a functional living space, I thought you might too.”
A short sputtering sob escapes, and I’m mortified.
“Oh, hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to use any of the stuff. I still have the receipt, I can take it back.” She shifts around the counter and rubs my arm — though the motion is stuttered, like she really meant to hug me, and I remember how I flinched the first time she tried.
“God. I’m sorry,” I say with a watery laugh. I’m a goddamn mess.
“No sorry needed.” She’s not looking at me with anything other than concern, there’s no pity or sympathy in her gaze.
“Gah. Okay. Thank you. I’d love to see what you brought us.” I try to brush off my embarrassing tears and how I almost completely lost it — again — at someone being nice to me.
“Can I hug you?” Jem blurts out, confirming my earlier suspicion. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to overstep — you can totally say no — I just feel like you could use a good squishy hug.”
I turn to the brunette and nod. Her arms wrap around my shoulders and lightly squeeze.
It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend. So long since I’ve interacted with other human beings at this level of familiarity. It’s foreign to me, but not unwelcome. Most of the girls that were in my circle went to college and we drifted apart. The few friends that I had slowly got cut out when Sean started to isolate me. Eventually it was just me, with no one to turn to for help.
And Jem’s right, I could use the hug. I let the first friend I’ve made in a long time hug me — cherishing the blooming relationship — until my lungs release the painful grip they have on my breath before letting go.
“Thanks. I didn’t realize how much I needed that,” I say, awkwardly.
“I know we just met, and this is a huge change for you — you’re going through a lot — but if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m a really good listener,” Jem offers.
I nod. “Thanks. My story isn’t a happy one though.”
Jem’s head bobs in a nod. “I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t expect it. But I have a great bottle of merlot in the box I was hoping to ply your life’s story out of you with.” She grins at me, and I can’t stop myself from returning the gesture.
I chuckle at her teasing.
“Why don’t you grab that, and I’ll make us some plates.”
What could it hurt to tell her about Sean? Harlan already knows, so the cat’s out of the bag at this point. And honestly, I miss having girlfriends. Someone I can talk to, eat dinner with, spend time with.
Being alone was the hardest part of being on the road with Audra. I didn’t have anyone to vent to after a stressful day. I didn’t have anyone to talk to about milestones my daughter hit, or the wonders of the country that we got to see while driving, or the little day-to-day things that you share with your friends. I’m tired of being alone.
I grab the fresh tortillas from the oven where they’re sitting on warm and load my arms with the fajita fixings.
Jem grabs two cups from the cabinet and pours us each a glass of wine while making faces at a giggling Audra. I’ll have to pump and dump later, but dammit, I’m having a glass of wine.
I missed a glass of wine with dinner almost as much as I missed having a friend.
