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“Morning, Andi. You ok?” Irene asks cautiously.
“How long have you been waiting?” Charlie asks.
I force a smile. “Not long. I’m okay, just had a bit of a restless night.”
It’s kind of odd for Irene to be in this early. It’s only been Charlie and me opening the past two mornings.
Irene unlocks the door, holding it open as Charlie and I pass through. Inside, she locks it back behind us. We set out flipping on lights and machines as per usual. I hear a gasp behind me, and I turn quickly, wide-eyed.
Charlie has a bright smile and eyes as big as mine, though it seems for very different reasons.
“I love your hair! It’s such a beautiful chocolate brown!” She rushes over to run her fingers through it.
Ugh.I thought something had happened, or at the very least that she’d seen a spider or something.
Relieved it was nothing, I smile. “Thanks! It was time for a change.”
She steps back, looking it over, and nods. “Well, I think it’s a great change. It suits you.”
Warmth spreads through my chest at my new friend’s compliment. It feels good to have someone in my corner—even if it’s just for a more-than-likely poor dye job.
Charlie walks to the back to grab our ingredients, while Irene and I set up the front counter. I reach up to touch my hair and realize in my rush out of the motel this morning I forgot my scarf. My eyes widen as my hand instinctively moves to cover my neck.
“Don’t worry, dear. It’s barely noticeable now,” Irene says quietly. My eyes dart to hers, terrified of what she may think of me. Tears burn my eyes. She gives me a knowing smile. “You’ll get no judgment or questions from me. Just know you and I are not so different. I’m always here to lend an ear.”
She gives my hand a squeeze, her eyes misty as she walks away to her office. I clear my throat and shake my head, trying to clear away the emotions threatening to rise. Once the immediate danger of spillage passes, I get back to work.
Charlie and I get ready to work on the morning pastries, and I feel self-conscious. I need to pull my hair up, but that means putting my bare neck on display. Irene said the bruising is nearly gone, but I can still see it faintly.
Maybe no one else will. Maybe I only notice it so much because Iknowit’s there.
As if she were reading my mind, Charlie says, “I have some concealer in my purse if you’d like to use it. I think we’re close enough to the same shade.”
She doesn’t look over at me when she speaks, which is very unlike her. I wonder if she wanted to make her statement seem casual, no big deal. Trying to make me comfortable seemsverylike her. I appreciate it more than I could ever describe to her.
I give a simple nod. “Thank you,” I mutter, my voice quiet. Any louder, I’d risk my voice cracking, and I don’t want to start the waterworks for the third time today.
Charlie puts the pastry pans into the oven to bake while I clean up our mess. She approaches me while I finish up, concealer in hand.
“Here you go,” she breathes.
As my fingers grip the offered end of the concealer, she holds onto the other. My eyes meet hers, and I wait for her to speak, but no words come. I can tell she wants to say something, but I’m unsure what that is.
After a few tense moments, she finally releases the tube, walking away without saying a word. She doesn’t need to say anything to me, though. I can see the concern in her eyes.
I’ve been in Fraser for such a short time, but the people here care for me immensely. They care about my wellbeing. I don’t think I could ever say that for my family back in Sacramento, aside from Addy, and definitely not for friends.
After covering the remaining bruises in the restroom, Irene stops me as I exit.
“Andi, I need to run to a big box store for bulk supplies. I could use your help if you’re up for it.”
Looking into her eyes, I don’t see even a hint of the emotion I saw there earlier this morning. I admire these women and their ability to comfort me, reassure me, but not dwell. They don’t look at me like a victim. They treat me with respect, and it means so much.
“Yeah, sure. I’d like to go,” I reply.
“Good. After the morning rush, we’ll head out.” Irene walks up front to unlock the door and switch on theOpensign.
A few people are already outside waiting when she unlocks the door. The coffee and pastries are a real hit in this community. I smile, greeting them as they start piling in. Charlie comes from the back, carrying a pan of piping hot scones and Danishes.
