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Her enthusiasm bubbled inside me. “I think so, too. Thanks for everything, Brooklyn.” To have found someone like Brooklyn was fate. I knew how fortunate I was to have things falling into place this fast. The kindness shown by her had tears nearly springing to my eyes. The emotional damn I’d built was beginning to break.
“You’re so welcome! You’re helping me out too. I didn’t know what I was going to do about finding someone that wasn’t crazy to live with.”
Oddly enough, the rambling helped me feel more comfortable and that I didn’t have to speak as much. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t consider me crazy.”
She laughed and hugged me to her. The contact had me stiff as a board until I remembered how frequently I had seen people hug and touch. I tried to loosen up.
Brooklyn didn’t seem to notice while she spoke, “Let’s head to the store to get what you need. We can order pizza in celebration of our first night. My treat. I’m going to go to my room and get my purse.” Brooklyn was practically skipping as she returned to her room.
“Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs.”
I let out a sigh as I sat on the bed and let the backpack fall to my side. With my newly acquired things, the backpack became heavy on my small frame. Now, I had a pla
ce to leave it. Having a home reduced an enormous amount of stress from me. There was still so much to do and figure out.
Only two days had passed since I’d buried Mom, yet it seemed like a lifetime ago. Having a place would help me stay under the radar if The Society came to Arkansas which was one less worry. Shelters were one of the first places people went when they didn’t have a place. I closed my eyes for a brief second to try and remember the comforting touch of mom’s embrace. It helped settle me . . . slightly.
Quickly, I made a mental list of what I would need to get tonight. I’d find a couple of more outfits, bedding, towels and some food to put in the refrigerator. The cheaper the better. Getting to the bank became more important.
SITTING CROSS LEGGED on our living room floor, I savored the supreme pizza Brooklyn had bought. After one bite, I completely understood why this pizza was called supreme. It was one of the best things I’d eaten.
There was some red stuff called ketchup that Brooklyn had an obsession with. A huge glob of it was on her plate as she’d dip her pizza into it before taking a big bite.
“Are you sure you don’t want some more ketchup for your pizza?”
One bite and I decided pizza should not be tainted—especially with ketchup. “Umm, I’ll pass.”
She giggled. “Not many have the appreciation they should for it. I’ll get you into the ketchup club eventually. Just wait.”
I chuckled as she squeezed another huge dollop onto the paper plate. At Walmart I had spent over a hundred twenty-five dollars on everything I needed. Brooklyn had helped me pick out a few more outfits that were supposedly hip.
The new lingo threw me, but I was adapting. Not once, did Brooklyn complain about my need to shop the clearance racks and helped search out the best deals. It was freeing not feeling judged, because every other second of the day I felt like I was on display.
“So, the results from your test should be at the office by nine in the morning. I have to work until four, but then we can hang if you want.” Shoving the last bite of pizza in her mouth, Brooklyn laid back against the couch with her hands on her stomach.
Closing the lid to the pizza, I sat back. “That sounds fun. While you’re at work, I’m going to get to know the area better and explore. Thanks again for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do for my new roomie. Oh before I forget, let me get you a key.” Brooklyn popped up and headed toward the kitchen. A drawer opened and closed before she reappeared with the brass key held out front. “Here ya go.”
“Thanks.” Holding the brass key felt monumental. It was my first home in this new place.
Getting to her feet, Brooklyn grabbed our plates. Following her lead, I picked up the ketchup and pizza and followed her into the kitchen. Sliding the plates into a machine that looked like it cleaned dishes, Brooklyn called over her shoulder. “Why don’t I help you get sheets on your bed and your stuff put up?”
“That’d be great.”
We headed for the upstairs as Brooklyn snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot. In thirty minutes, I need to go help my brother with something. Do you want to come or stay here?”
Brooklyn was kind and truly trying to be a friend it seemed.
As the food settled, exhaustion set in. I had a headache as my mind was never able to simply rest. The thought of using my brain to try and fit in had me wanting to cry. Last night, at the shelter, I hadn’t slept. I needed quiet. “I think my long trip is finally catching up with me so I’m going to pass on heading out if that’s okay.”
Not a lie.
“I totally understand. Let’s get you settled.”
Going upstairs, we sorted through all my new stuff; towels, toiletries, sheets, comforter, and clothes. Brooklyn had more energy than I could process. There were more events happening in the next week than I could comprehend, more tips than I could fathom remembering, but she was a positive force of energy I desperately needed.
Clapping her hands together, Brooklyn announced. “This place is officially coming together. I love it.”
