Page 72 of SnowBound

“You and this baby should matter more than some beliefs, elections, or popular votes. Any idea where you’ll move to?”

I hid my hands in the sleeves of my sweater—a new habit of mine these days—and fidgeted with my fingers, casting a gaze down and looking at anything but my friend. “There—” I inhaled some air and courage. “There’s a women’s shelter a few miles from here. I called… They can take me in for a little while. I’ll have a safe place to stay until I figure out my next move.”

“A shelter? Are you sure?”

Angry tears burned the back of my eyes. “That’s the only option. So far. If I stay at the hotel, I’ll go through all my savings in no time.”

“Or you could come back to Silverville and I could get that apartment and we could be roommates. You wouldn’t be alone.”

“Thanks.” My voice quivered as the word left my mouth. Ellie was the only person in my corner. The only one rooting for me. And it meant something to me. “I gotta stay here. Since I can’t go back to college, I’ll try to find a job in the city and work my way up. It’s not the best-case scenario, but right now, it’s the only thing I can hold on to. Nashville is the best place to find a job in the music industry. I don’t want to give up on all my dreams so soon.” I swallowed the mass growing in my throat. “I checked the remote learning classes at the community college, and the lady is supposed to call me back next week. I could maybe take a few random business classes the following semester and enroll full-time next winter. Or part-time because I need a steady, well-paying job too. And a newborn won’t gimme much time out of the house anyway.”

Ellie’s face softened. “It’s a good plan, Abby. I’m sure it will all work out.” She paused. “Since I’m in town till Sunday, let’s grab your stuff and get out of here. I’ve got a room at The Row, the hotel downtown, and you’re staying with me. It will be just like the dorm once again but fancier and with more comfy beds. We’ll visit that…shelter…together and decide if it’s good and safe enough for my girl. And since I’ve never been to Tennessee before, you’ll give me a tour. And tomorrow, we’re driving to Memphis.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never been. And perhaps, if fate is on our side, we could bump into you-know-who. It’s worth trying. You’re the one who planned to go, remember?”

“Oh yeah, but I decided against it. You know Memphis is big enough to never find him.”

She shrugged. “We’ll be able to say we at least tried. Now show me the way to your bedroom. We’re having lunch afterward. I haven’t eaten anything since last night.”

Hand in hand, we walked through the front door. My mother was at the oven, bent over a pan.

“Hi, Mrs. Peña,” my friend greeted her.

My mother glanced at us and grimaced, not even returning my friend’s greeting. How rude. I clenched my jaw, gritting my teeth to avoid saying something I would regret.

Once in my bedroom, I closed the door behind us.

“Whoa, you were not joking. That’s more than a cold shoulder you got there. I could feel the ice she threw at us.” As if she sensed I needed some love, Ellie drew me into her arms. “Don’t let them get to you. You deserve more than this. I won’t let you down. Ever.”

I nodded against her shoulders, more tears building in my eyes.

A stifled shriek of pain passed my lips.

“Shhh. It’ll be okay.” Ellie’s arms tightened around me. “One day at a time.” She leaned back and dried my tears with her fingertips. “When is your next appointment with the OB-GYN?”

I sniffled. “Friday afternoon.”

“I’ll come with you. Can’t wait to see that baby on a screen.”

“You will?”

She bobbed her head. “Yeah. And then we’ll have dinner together and do something fun.”

“I missed you,” I told her. “I wish we were still roommates, and everything didn’t have to change.”

“I know.” She looked around. “Is this all you have to stuff in the car?”

Three boxes, two suitcases, and a backpack contained all my possessions.

“That’s all I own.”

“Then let’s do this. The sooner we’re out of here, the easier it will be to make plans.”

Fifteen minutes later, the car was packed, and we high-fived. My mood had improved from the time my friend had parked in my driveway. With a straight back, I returned inside and threw one last glance around my empty bedroom. It was now void of any personal touch. Only the furniture remained. Somehow it felt like I’d never lived between those walls. I stepped out and shut the door behind me.

In the kitchen, my mother was still there, prepping food, not glancing in my direction even after I cleared my throat.