really hoped that by Wednesday this madness would be behind her.
Then she called Skylar. She and Sky had been friends since the day Bev started at Sal’s. They’d hit it off immediately. Bev generally liked everybody until they gave her a reason not to, but it had been deeper than that with Skylar. They weren’t all that similar on the surface—Sky had a lot more edge than Bev, in both taste and personality. But they got each other’s jokes, and they saw the world in similar ways. And as early as that first day, they’d been able to communicate without speaking, with simply a gesture or a look.
Chris was her best friend, the friend with history. They knew each other so well because they’d been together so long and had learned. Sky was her closest friend. They knew each other so well because they just got each other.
And Sky got her now, making their conversation a complicated dance on Bev’s side. “You sound wrong, sweets. I’m glad to hear your voice, but I’m still worried. I’m coming over on my way into the diner.”
“No, Sky. I don’t want company. I just need to rest. I’ll be okay.”
“Is that guy with you? Nick? What phone are you calling from? This isn’t your number.”
“Yeah. It’s good. I’m good. I lost my phone last night. I’m using Nick’s phone.”
“I still want to come over. I’ll stop at the Cove Café and have Edith make you that chicken spinach wrap thing you like.”
Bev looked around at the men in the room, who seemed to be simultaneously ignoring her and hearing every word. The last thing she wanted was for Sky to get caught up in this somehow. “Really, Sky. I’m good. I’m just tired and not in the mood for company. Okay?”
The silence on the other end of the line stretched out. When Sky finally spoke again, her voice had the depth of suspicion. “Is he keeping you from us? Chris said he couldn’t get to you this morning. Bev, I’m really worried.”
A big part of her wanted to say, YES! I’m in so deep I’m drowning! But she didn’t—and not only because she didn’t want her friends dragged in.
There was something more. Despite everything, despite her fear and frustration, she believed Nick was trying to keep her safe. She thought of him sitting next to her last night, keeping her company while she fell asleep. She wanted that man back. So she laughed lightly, trying not to stress her ribs. “You’re being silly. I was asleep this morning. The hospital gave me the good stuff. I’m not being kept from anything. I just need to rest. Okay? I’ll check in again, and I’ll see you Wednesday.”
Skylar sighed audibly into the phone. “Okay. You call if you need anything.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Ditto, sweets.”
When she ended the call, aching inside and out, feeling suddenly very alone, she nearly broke down into tears. But she managed to hold them back, unwilling to collapse in front of an audience of men she did not know, men she feared.
After that, she took a shower, where she did let herself cry, trying to breathe through the pain her sobs made. She then dressed in her own clothes—yoga pants, a camisole, and a zip hoodie—and bandaged her face and elbow again. Those wounds she barely thought of; the pain in her chest consumed her attention.
Betty, who’d been maternally fussy all afternoon, finally force fed her some roast and salad, and then, mercy of mercies, bestowed on her two Percocets with a bottle of Pellegrino. And then Bev went to the guestroom—her cell—and closed herself in and went to bed.
As she waited to fall into a medicated sleep, dark thoughts she’d rousted ages ago returned for a visit. In a matter of just a few hours, she’d lost the reins of her life again, and somebody she didn’t understand had laced them into his fingers. She was too trusting. She expected people to be good. No matter how many times they showed her they were
Then she called Skylar. She and Sky had been friends since the day Bev started at Sal’s. They’d hit it off immediately. Bev generally liked everybody until they gave her a reason not to, but it had been deeper than that with Skylar. They weren’t all that similar on the surface—Sky had a lot more edge than Bev, in both taste and personality. But they got each other’s jokes, and they saw the world in similar ways. And as early as that first day, they’d been able to communicate without speaking, with simply a gesture or a look.
Chris was her best friend, the friend with history. They knew each other so well because they’d been together so long and had learned. Sky was her closest friend. They knew each other so well because they just got each other.
And Sky got her now, making their conversation a complicated dance on Bev’s side. “You sound wrong, sweets. I’m glad to hear your voice, but I’m still worried. I’m coming over on my way into the diner.”
“No, Sky. I don’t want company. I just need to rest. I’ll be okay.”
“Is that guy with you? Nick? What phone are you calling from? This isn’t your number.”
“Yeah. It’s good. I’m good. I lost my phone last night. I’m using Nick’s phone.”
“I still want to come over. I’ll stop at the Cove Café and have Edith make you that chicken spinach wrap thing you like.”
Bev looked around at the men in the room, who seemed to be simultaneously ignoring her and hearing every word. The last thing she wanted was for Sky to get caught up in this somehow. “Really, Sky. I’m good. I’m just tired and not in the mood for company. Okay?”
The silence on the other end of the line stretched out. When Sky finally spoke again, her voice had the depth of suspicion. “Is he keeping you from us? Chris said he couldn’t get to you this morning. Bev, I’m really worried.”
A big part of her wanted to say, YES! I’m in so deep I’m drowning! But she didn’t—and not only because she didn’t want her friends dragged in.
There was something more. Despite everything, despite her fear and frustration, she believed Nick was trying to keep her safe. She thought of him sitting next to her last night, keeping her company while she fell asleep. She wanted that man back. So she laughed lightly, trying not to stress her ribs. “You’re being silly. I was asleep this morning. The hospital gave me the good stuff. I’m not being kept from anything. I just need to rest. Okay? I’ll check in again, and I’ll see you Wednesday.”
Skylar sighed audibly into the phone. “Okay. You call if you need anything.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Ditto, sweets.”
When she ended the call, aching inside and out, feeling suddenly very alone, she nearly broke down into tears. But she managed to hold them back, unwilling to collapse in front of an audience of men she did not know, men she feared.
After that, she took a shower, where she did let herself cry, trying to breathe through the pain her sobs made. She then dressed in her own clothes—yoga pants, a camisole, and a zip hoodie—and bandaged her face and elbow again. Those wounds she barely thought of; the pain in her chest consumed her attention.
Betty, who’d been maternally fussy all afternoon, finally force fed her some roast and salad, and then, mercy of mercies, bestowed on her two Percocets with a bottle of Pellegrino. And then Bev went to the guestroom—her cell—and closed herself in and went to bed.
As she waited to fall into a medicated sleep, dark thoughts she’d rousted ages ago returned for a visit. In a matter of just a few hours, she’d lost the reins of her life again, and somebody she didn’t understand had laced them into his fingers. She was too trusting. She expected people to be good. No matter how many times they showed her they were
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