I got a little carried away at the store, which luckily also sold bedsheets and bath towels. I would be skipping the whole way home if I wasn’t weighed down by the obscene amount of groceries I was carrying. “Did the, um … did the … door you ran from, did it ever find you?” I’m about to turn away when something stops me, and I find myself saying, “Can I ask you something?” I give a small smile, my hand pressing to my stomach. Who gets why I still feel the need to lie and hide exactly where my bruises really came from. Who knows what it’s like to live the life I had. Like I’m finally talking to someone who understands. The moment suddenly feels weighted with unspoken words. “I just want to say … I’m really glad you got away from … the door.” She takes a step toward me, her voice lowering. “Carrie,” she softly calls my name, and I stop and turn around. “Okay”-I start for the door-“I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.” “Work the breakfast shift first, and we’ll see if you still feel that way,” she jokes. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” “How would you feel about working the breakfast shift?” “I don’t know how you feel about hiring pregnant women, but I really need a job.” “Actually, there is something I need …” I glance at the sign in the window before looking back to her. “Well, I just wanted to say, if you ever need anything-pie, decaf tea-you know where to find me.” “And you’ve also probably already figured that this is my place.” I’m Sadie, which you’ve probably figured.” She gestures to her name badge. “Well, if you need anything …” She pauses, waiting for me to tell her my name. “Thank you.” I slide off the stool, standing.
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