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“Me too.”
I sit down as Angelia gets a tissue and wipes her eyes. All the staff and volunteers at the Mission are very careful what we say about women who go back to their abusers when we’re around the other residents. We don’t want to shame anyone.
“I’m okay,” Angelia says with a weak smile. “I’m just having a hard week, I guess. I got my official layoff notice on Monday.”
“Hey, I actually have news about that.”
“Yeah?”
I was late getting to the kitchen today because I was meeting with Monica, the director of the Women’s Mission. And now that I told her the good news, I can share it with Angelia.
“That guy who came in here to see me that day—the one I went out with, Knox—”
Angelia cuts me off. “Lord in Heaven, if you tell me you’re getting married, I’m gonna cry some more.”
“No! That’s definitely not it.” I think of the kiss again, damn it. “He plays hockey with the Chicago Blaze, and—”
Angelia stops me again, scrunching her face in confusion and putting a hand in the air. “Hold up, what? You’re dating a Blaze player, and you’re just now mentioning this to me?”
“We’re not dating.”
She rolls her eyes. “Is this some of that new age bullshit? Are you just hanging out?”
“Will you just listen? This is way bigger than me and Knox.”
Angelia clamps her mouth shut, though I can tell it’s an effort for her. I continue.
“I told Knox about the shelter’s funding getting cut, and he talked to the people who run the Chicago Blaze Foundation, and they’re doing a fundraiser for us. For the shelter. It’s a week from Saturday.”
“Are you serious?”
I nod. “They’ve got some wealthy donors, too. I think most of the team will be there, and the owner. I’m hoping they’ll raise a lot of money.”
“Wow.”
Angelia looks as stunned as Monica did. Knox called me Monday, the day after the kiss, to tell me the Blaze Foundation staffers were already working on getting an event together. I can’t deny that from what I’ve seen so far, Knox is a man who says what he means and means what he says.
“I needed some good news,” Angelia says, tears welling in her eyes again. “Danielle leaving here hit me pretty hard.”
“Of course it did. I thought she and the kids were doing so well.”
“They were, but Danielle wasn’t used to being broke. He husband waved some cash around and she went running back.”
I put a hand on my friend’s shoulder. “But now she knows we’re here. If something happens—”
“When something happens,” Angelia says bitterly.
“I know. But she knows we’ve got her back now. And the counseling may not have gotten all the way through, but maybe it was enough that she’ll know to leave immediately when something happens again.”
“I hope so.” Angelia sighs deeply. “I know it’s not right that I get so upset about it, but I can see myself in her, you know? Wanting to believe he changed. Wanting to be enough to keep him happy. But abusers are ticking time bombs.”
“All we can do is keep trying,” I remind her.
She forces a smile and stands up. “I guess we should get back to it. Lunch ain’t gonna cook itself.”
“Want to hang out at my place Saturday night? I was thinking we could get pizza and watch a movie. Or maybe…I don’t know, the hockey game.”
Angelia gives me a knowing look. “The hockey game? Somebody’s got it bad for a man she’s not dating.”
“We might be going out on a date,” I admit. “If the fundraiser brings in more than $200,000.”
Her mouth drops open and a single note of laughter comes out. “Girl, you are one expensive date.”
I shrug. “Might as well make him work for it.”
Angelia laughs, the smile back in her eyes now.
“Oh, and we also have to go shopping for dresses for the fundraiser,” I say. “I’m buying, and I won’t hear any arguing about it.”
“No way. I’m not putting on a dress and heels for any reason.”
“I guess you can wear jeans if you want, but you may feel out of place.”
Her groan is borderline whiny. “You mean I have to go to this thing?”
“Of course.”
“Ugh, I’m about as social as a broomstick.”
I put an arm around her as we leave her office and head for the kitchen. “But it’s for a good cause, so I know I can count on you.”
She glares at me, but doesn’t say a word. And even though I know she’ll relent and wear a dress in the end, I’m pretty sure I haven’t heard the end of her complaining about it.* * *When I get home after a long day at the shelter that evening, I set my stack of mail down on the couch next to me and flop down beside it, taking out my phone to text Knox back.
