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I bit my lip. “I learned a long time ago that nothing is guaranteed.”
“I understand.” She patted my shoulder. “I’m rooting for you.”
“Appreciate that.”
“My cousin—Officer Holt—would also be more than willing to get more details about the assault.”
My pulse pounded at my throat. “I’ll, uh, think about it.”
She frowned. “Yeah, that’s been the going theme around here.”
I grimaced. “Can you blame us?”
She shook her head. “Hopefully, with time, he can build some trust.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I should get going.”
“No offense, but I hope I don’t see you at the shelter anytime soon.” When she winked, I laughed, understanding her meaning. “But if you need our services again, we’ll be here.”
“Thanks.”
My chest felt heavy as we trudged back across the Hope Memorial, the guardian statues looming over us. The fact that Foster had left me his spare key so I could come and go as I pleased wasn’t lost on me. I felt the first raindrop as we rounded the corner, and by the time we got up the elevator to his place, it was coming down hard.
I walked to the window to watch it from that vantage point, imagining what I’d be doing right then. Either seeking shelter in a doorway, or under an awning or the Main Avenue Bridge. Later in the evening, I’d be setting up my tent while getting pelted with any number of weather conditions. Snow, hail, sleet, I’d been through it all.
I looked down at myself, at Foster’s thermal shirt and the jeans he’d lent me that were loose at the waist. The steadier my diet the more I’d be able to fill out his clothes, but I still wasn’t going to bank on it.
After giving Oscar a treat, I perused a bookshelf for something to read until I remembered that I still had one of the classics he’d donated. I snuggled on the couch with Oscar while the rain pelted the windows, and I got lost in the chapters.
I found I could relate to the women in the book, especially the Dashwood sisters. They felt trapped in their system of wealth and social status. What was that saying? The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
And though I wasn’t technically trapped when I was with Clint, he made me feel like I was. In fact, being with him made me feel more vulnerable than living on the street.
When I heard Foster’s key in the door, I sat up, feeling guilty that I’d spent the afternoon reading instead of scouring the employment ads.
Foster and I had an arrangement, but he wasn’t putting any pressure on me. In fact, he seemed to be giving me time to adjust and breathe. And while I appreciated that, I also felt antsy to get moving, especially when yesterday’s newspaper proved fruitless.
“How was your day?” I asked in a strained voice.
“Busy,” he replied, bending down to greet Oscar. This was already beginning to feel like a routine, and I didn’t know how I should feel about that.
“Okay if I start dinner?” I hadn’t accompanied him to the grocery store the other day because I was afraid it would be too overwhelming. Foster seemed to understand that, so we created a list and made a meal plan.
“Go for it. I’m starving.” He stepped out of his shoes and hung up his raincoat.
I walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the ingredients for a stir-fry. Being useful felt good, and I could tell he liked when I cooked for him.
He placed today’s newspaper on the counter. He got them free at the library. “How about we work on your résumé tonight?”
“I’d like that.”
He sat at the island and helped chop veggies. “Anything new on your end?”
“I walked Oscar to the shelter,” I mumbled. “Hope you don’t mind.”
He chomped on the end of a carrot. “Why would I mind?”
“I…I don’t know.” Foster was way more compassionate and understanding than I ever thought possible, so why did that continue to surprise me? “I wanted to make sure people knew I was okay. That nothing happened to me the other night.”
“God, I hadn’t thought of that. Good idea.”
I nodded. “Plus, a lot of them appreciated having a friendly dog around.”
“I bet.” He looked at Oscar as if to say, good boy. “Feel free to take him for visits anytime.”
I was relieved he didn’t ask me again about filing the police report, and I certainly wasn’t going to bring up Officer Holt. In fact, once my eyes cleared up, Foster seemed to drop the idea, and I was glad for it. Besides, I hadn’t heard any more horror stories from the shelter today, so maybe the guy had had enough fun for a while.
Yeah, right. There would likely be others.
Once we ate, we headed to the couch, where he pulled his laptop out of his bag and fired it up. I sat down beside him and started flipping through the newspaper.
