with a little love mixed in maybe. But something else.
He looked back over at me.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to make sense of it,” he said. “Still.”
“Time’s up,” I said. “I’ve got to get back.”
He took my hands in his and leaned over the table.
“But I still love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”
It wasn’t enough. It didn’t change anything. He hadn’t accepted who I was. We both knew that.
“Can’t we meet up later?” he said, almost begging. “Can you come over tonight?”
I looked at him. His eyes desperate and sad, his energy gray and troubled.
I ached for him too. Our bodies calling out to each other, breaking through the walls, finding the path of least resistance and screaming out for the other.
But it wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be right if he couldn’t handle the other parts of our relationship.
“I can’t,” I said, brushing a tear from my eye.
I got up and went in the back and cried for a long time.
CHAPTER 33
I had gotten into the rhythm of working at the Community Center. I didn’t feel as self-conscious or guilty and focused on doing the work. It wasn’t like I was really volunteering because Mike was still paying me, but at least I wasn’t selling cars. Or Le Creuset cookware. At the end of the day I was still helping people. And that felt good.
I was even getting to know some of the regulars. I got a few waves. A couple of kids came up and gave me hugs. And an old man started telling me about his cat.
Sutter let me in. He was the one who had stared at me strangely that first night. Maybe my first impression of him had been wrong. He didn’t seem that bad.
“Hi, Sutter,” I said.
“Ms. Craig,” he said, smiling and giving me a nod.
I walked through the doors and saw Ellen, another Back Street employee, already inside. She waved at me as I walked over to her.
“Hello, stranger,” she said. I had worked with her in the afternoon for the last hour of my shift. “Did you get to take a nap?”
I had told her about my bad day at work and Ty showing up. I seemed to be spilling my guts to everybody lately. But then I thought about what David had said about Ellen. He was right. There was something really comforting about her. Sometimes he called her “Mom Number Two.” And it wasn’t in the sarcastic way he referred to me as “mommy” sometimes. He meant it.
When I finished telling her everything, she told me to go home and take a nap. I think it actually helped. I was feeling a little better. But honestly I couldn’t see how it was possible to feel any worse.
“Yeah,” I said. “You were right.”
“Usually am when it’s the easy stuff,” she said, rubbing my shoulder.
Angie walked up, dressed in a Christmas sweatshirt and a Santa hat. As was her habit, she handed us those aprons, hair nets, and gloves.
“Abby, how about you help with serving?” she said. “And, Ellen, you’re on kitchen duty tonight.”
“Sure,” I said.
“You got it, Ange,” Ellen said.
I set the trays out and plugged them in, stirring the contents. It looked like some sort of beef stew with mashed potatoes and rolls and green beans. Dessert was a large cake that one of the local bakeries had donated.
I was working with Sutter. Angie had pulled me aside and told me that she thought he was on some sort of medication.
“He suffers from mood swings,” she said. “He seems fine tonight, but I just wanted to let you know in case he starts acting up. Let me know right away if anything comes up.”
I nodded and wondered why they would have someone like that working here. And then, of course, it came to me. People weren’t exactly knocking down the doors to volunteer. Most people didn’t give places like these a second thought. I knew. I was one of them.
I kept an eye on Sutter, but didn’t see any crazy moods.
People kept coming in. At one point Angie asked me if I could stay an extra hour. I told her that it was fine.
Just
He looked back over at me.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to make sense of it,” he said. “Still.”
“Time’s up,” I said. “I’ve got to get back.”
He took my hands in his and leaned over the table.
“But I still love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”
It wasn’t enough. It didn’t change anything. He hadn’t accepted who I was. We both knew that.
“Can’t we meet up later?” he said, almost begging. “Can you come over tonight?”
I looked at him. His eyes desperate and sad, his energy gray and troubled.
I ached for him too. Our bodies calling out to each other, breaking through the walls, finding the path of least resistance and screaming out for the other.
But it wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be right if he couldn’t handle the other parts of our relationship.
“I can’t,” I said, brushing a tear from my eye.
I got up and went in the back and cried for a long time.
CHAPTER 33
I had gotten into the rhythm of working at the Community Center. I didn’t feel as self-conscious or guilty and focused on doing the work. It wasn’t like I was really volunteering because Mike was still paying me, but at least I wasn’t selling cars. Or Le Creuset cookware. At the end of the day I was still helping people. And that felt good.
I was even getting to know some of the regulars. I got a few waves. A couple of kids came up and gave me hugs. And an old man started telling me about his cat.
Sutter let me in. He was the one who had stared at me strangely that first night. Maybe my first impression of him had been wrong. He didn’t seem that bad.
“Hi, Sutter,” I said.
“Ms. Craig,” he said, smiling and giving me a nod.
I walked through the doors and saw Ellen, another Back Street employee, already inside. She waved at me as I walked over to her.
“Hello, stranger,” she said. I had worked with her in the afternoon for the last hour of my shift. “Did you get to take a nap?”
I had told her about my bad day at work and Ty showing up. I seemed to be spilling my guts to everybody lately. But then I thought about what David had said about Ellen. He was right. There was something really comforting about her. Sometimes he called her “Mom Number Two.” And it wasn’t in the sarcastic way he referred to me as “mommy” sometimes. He meant it.
When I finished telling her everything, she told me to go home and take a nap. I think it actually helped. I was feeling a little better. But honestly I couldn’t see how it was possible to feel any worse.
“Yeah,” I said. “You were right.”
“Usually am when it’s the easy stuff,” she said, rubbing my shoulder.
Angie walked up, dressed in a Christmas sweatshirt and a Santa hat. As was her habit, she handed us those aprons, hair nets, and gloves.
“Abby, how about you help with serving?” she said. “And, Ellen, you’re on kitchen duty tonight.”
“Sure,” I said.
“You got it, Ange,” Ellen said.
I set the trays out and plugged them in, stirring the contents. It looked like some sort of beef stew with mashed potatoes and rolls and green beans. Dessert was a large cake that one of the local bakeries had donated.
I was working with Sutter. Angie had pulled me aside and told me that she thought he was on some sort of medication.
“He suffers from mood swings,” she said. “He seems fine tonight, but I just wanted to let you know in case he starts acting up. Let me know right away if anything comes up.”
I nodded and wondered why they would have someone like that working here. And then, of course, it came to me. People weren’t exactly knocking down the doors to volunteer. Most people didn’t give places like these a second thought. I knew. I was one of them.
I kept an eye on Sutter, but didn’t see any crazy moods.
People kept coming in. At one point Angie asked me if I could stay an extra hour. I told her that it was fine.
Just
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