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I said nothing.
She quickly added, “That was my first dream. Writing love notes for his lunch. For the kids, too. Baking bread and sewing. Bake sales. Ballet lessons. But reality set in. I don’t cook. I don’t sew and the rest was…anyway… Yeah. If I ever become a mom and wife I probably can’t pull off the Pinterest mom gig but…” She went quiet a second, then spoke quickly, “Anyway, I’ve worked plenty of minimum wage jobs. Fast food, hotel maid, coffee houses, shit like that. A couple years ago I went back to school and took a course, so now I help people out in the nursing homes. Bring meals. Feed the ones who can’t feed themselves. Help with their hygiene. Spend time with them. Change beds, basic first aid, do their nails, stuff like that.”
“You like it?”
“Some parts of it aren’t fun. Sometimes it’s dirty work, but people need help, you know? And they deserve to have it. And to be treated with dignity. Sometimes it’s hard. You get attached and then you see them suffering. You lose ‘em.” She deflated. “Yeah, that’s hard.”
“I bet.”
“I got fired.” She slumped further in her seat.
“Yeah?”
“The home I was workin’ at, the new manager didn’t like me. Don’t know why, but she just took one look at me when she started and hated my guts immediately. Story of my life. Ridin’ the struggle bus and waiting to get off. Not sure what it is about me that makes chicks take an instant disliking to me. I try so hard to not come across as a bitch.”
There wasn’t a bitchy bone in her body from what I’ve seen so far. Even when she was pissed at me, her bitch scale only went to maybe two when most women could take it to eight without breaking a sweat.
I’d lay down coin she endures that because they’re jealous. Because she’s the kind of beautiful that turns a lot of women catty. Beautiful women who are bitches don’t let people walk on them. Beautiful women who are the kind of sweet Gianna Jones is need protection. And it didn’t sound like anyone had protected this girl in her life.
And that pissed me off.
“And of course I can’t go back and say goodbye, they won’t allow it,” she mumbled.
“To your coworkers?”
“To the residents. Wasn’t super tight with any of my coworkers, but some of the residents’ll wonder where I went, why I didn’t say goodbye.”
“Ah.”
“She wrote me up for bullshit reasons a couple times. I called in before I headed for Aberdeen to warn you guys and said I needed some personal time. She told me if I couldn’t make it in the next day, I’d be fired. And it was shitty because I’d just been off for two weeks unpaid vacation that she pushed on me because she said they were overstaffed, but I figure she was tryin’ to push me out. Kept cuttin’ my hours. She hired two friends of hers, so they were getting my hours and it left me uber-strapped.”
“Too strapped to put a new tire on your junker?”
“Yeah. So strapped I barely coasted in on what little gas money I had to get to Aberdeen and my phone’s now cut off.”
“Not safe to drive far on the donut. How long has that been on your car?”
“Three weeks.”
“Fuck. Bad idea, G.”
“I know it. Not much I could do about it. Brakes are squealing too, but what am I gonna do?”
“We’ve got a cache of decent used tires out back of the garage. I’m sure I can hook you up. I’ll take care of your brakes, too.”
She said nothing.
“Though that junker isn’t really roadworthy. I’ll have a look at it when we get back. And when we get to the cabin I’ll pay your phone bill. Turn your phone back on,” I added.
“No. No, no. That’s okay.” She shook her head decisively.
“You should have a phone so your sister can get ahold of you.”
She shook her head. “Kai usually uses Insta anyway. I don’t need a phone line for that. Your hotspot is fine, Jesse, I don’t want you payin’ my phone bill or payin’ for anything else. It’s unnecessary.”
“Your call. But if you need it, I can do it.”
“I don’t need it. Make it a rule to never let anybody else pay my bills. But thanks.”
She squeezed my hand and then grabbed my thigh and kept her hand there. I put my hand on top of hers and held it.
Though I couldn’t see her eyes, it felt like she was troubled. The conversation, the blindfold, her stepsister. Shitty car. Lost her job. The fuckin’ stress of the Jackals.
“More quizzin’ or music?” I asked, pushing away the foreign urge to take all her problems on my shoulders. It wasn’t my style to be the knight on the white horse, swooping in to save the day. But this girl… everything about her … she was getting under my skin.
