Page 130 of We Drank the Dawn

“Nope. But Harlan can. We’ll ask him in the morning.”

FORTY-THREE

Sarah

Istared at my phone, weaving in and out of the aisles at a health food store because I’d officially started shopping for Instacart.

After talking to Tonya, I did meet with an attorney.

And now it felt like my life was ending.

I utterly refused to be in my house unless I was sleeping, or embarrassingly, a little tipsy, as a few nights I’d resorted to a drink or two before heading home to go to bed. That alone should’ve been a red flag—I hated alcohol. But the pain and stress and anxiety racing through my system made me a bit more understanding toward the people who utilized it.

Most evenings after work, I left my car idling in the garage so I could dash in, fill my water bottle, yank off my scrubs, and put on a hoodie and jeans. I would jam a hat over my head or flip the hoodie up and cinch the strings in order to hide my terrible new hair cut.

Then, I’d open my app and accept a grocery order and jump back in the car.

I took the jobs with low tips because it wasn’t about the money.

Not at all.

Even still, by nine o’clock my neck ached and my feet hurt and I was so hungry I was contemplating popping open a customer’s bag of Halloween candy nestled in the backseat of my car. I promised I’d go home and take care of my poor body after I delivered this last order.

As I followed the GPS through a neighborhood, I realized I was close-ish to Jackie’s house and wondered what she was up to. Maybe we could hang out…or I could spend the night or something…

I didn’t think I was desperate enough to ask for that, but here I was, crafting the perfect text in my head. I’d say: Hey Jackie, remember when I said I was fine and you should stop checking on me? I was lying. I’ve been indulging in after-work drinks trying to forget about your brother because I’m terrified I’m going to become my mom or worse that I already AM my mom and I feel so guilty about all the choices I made that I want to scream and throw up and hit something all at once so please let me come cuddle on your couch and have the boys ready please and thank you.

When I stopped in the customer’s driveway, I did send a text, but all I said was:

Me

Hey, can I come hang out?

By the time I lugged the groceries to the front door and got back into my car, there was a text from her.

Jackie

I’m actually on a date.

Me

Again?

Jackie

I get a lot of right-swipes.

Me

Ok no problem

Jackie

You okay? Why don’t you want to be at home?

I tossed the phone into the passenger’s seat. I really didn’t want to get into that with anyone. No thank you.

But the question alone sent a zillion answers storming into my heart.