I don’t question her changes, because she’s the same best friend I can count on. Moreover, I envied her ability to pivot, long before I got attacked in Phoenix. It made me more eager than ever to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, but I couldn’t come up with anything that spoke to my heart. So I stayed at Reynis because it was comfortable, and I didn’t have any better ideas.
Of course, that job is gone now, and in a way, it’s like I have a fresh slate. Maybe that’s the change I needed.
Just like maybe Baden is a change I need.
I pull into my garage, staying in my locked car until the heavy door rolls down behind me. The entire time I keep my eyes on my rearview and side mirrors to make sure no one sneaks in. It’s one of my new paranoid habits I can’t quite shake.
My detached garage leads to my back yard, surrounded by a six-foot privacy fence with bolted combo locks on the rear and front gates. At the back door, I enter the house and disengage the alarm at the panel. I start to reengage it once the door is closed and locked, but I remind myself that Frankie will be here soon. Surely I can stay in my house for a few minutes without the safety of the security system to protect me.
This is not an easy decision. I stand with my hand hovering over the panel as I run through a list of pros and cons.
Pros: It would be a brave step toward independence.
Cons: I could get murdered if someone crashes through my back door right now.
I’m just about to punch in the code to set the alarm when the front doorbell rings. I sigh with relief that the decision has been made for me, but I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s Frankie.
As I walk through the house, I pull up the system app and check the front camera.
It is indeed Frankie, looking cute as a button. She’s wearing a large puffy coat with fake fur trim on the hood, her breath coming out in frosty plumes. Her dark chocolate hair is pulled back into a ponytail, highlighting her stunning bone structure.
I open the door and she brushes past me. “Damn, it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside.”
“That’s not very namaste of you,” I point out as I shut the door. Of course, I engage the alarm.
“How can I be all namaste when you’ve been fired and you went on a date?” she counters with an impish smile.
“It wasn’t a date,” I hastily explain.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “If it wasn’t a date, you wouldn’t have mentioned he was devastatingly gorgeous.”
“It seriously wasn’t a date, but it was the start of a friendship.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” she huffs and removes her coat, tossing it over the back of the couch. “I demand tea and cookies.”
I laugh and nod. “Let me get the water going.”
After I set a tray with a teapot, two cups and saucers, and Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies, we settle in the living room—Frankie on one end of the couch, me on the other. With tea prepared the way we like it, we face each other with our backs pressed against the armrests. My legs are stretched along the inside, hers on the outside. We often sit this way when we have long discussions, sometimes with tea, sometimes with wine.
“My next class isn’t until six p.m.,” Frankie says as she blows across the top of her steaming tea. “Job first.”
Balancing my cup on the saucer, I tell her about James’s call. “He demanded I get on a plane and head to Chicago, and I just couldn’t do it.”
Frankie tilts her head, her expression empathetic. More than anyone, she knows the depth of my struggles since the attack. She knows all my fears and insecurities and the tremendous guilt I’ve carried. While I’m close to my parents, I didn’t want to burden them with all that. They know some of my struggles but truly have no clue how seriously debilitated I’ve been.
And because I still visit them regularly, they honestly have no clue how withdrawn I’ve become from normal society. As for my job, they assume I’ve taken a higher-level position in the company, given that my near-constant travel stopped.
I don’t want them to worry.
“What are you going to do?” Frankie asks.
I give her a sheepish grin. “Do you have a Buddha idol available so I could rub his belly for luck? Maybe some incense I can burn for clarity?”
Frankie rolls her eyes. “Seriously… you’re going to have to figure out something. I know you have savings, but that won’t last forever.”
The reality of my predicament sets in. I’m unlikely to find a work-from-home job and even if I could, is that really the best thing for me? To make matters worse, I have no inkling what I want to do.
“Do you think I should have gone to Chicago like James asked?” I inquire. Because my ultimate fear is that I’m being ridiculous. Maybe I’m so mired in the safety and comfort of sticking close to home that I’m making bad choices. Maybe it’s not that I couldn’t get on that plane… maybe it’s that I didn’t want to.
Frankie shakes her head, tapping her fingers on the edge of her cup. “I’ve seen how much you’ve wrestled with this, Sophie. You’re not avoiding these things simply to avoid. And you’ve made progress, albeit slow progress. Still, you can only do what you can do. You are the most driven person I know. If you could’ve gotten on that plane and gone to do your job, you would’ve done it.”
I nod, pensive for a bit. I’m definitely the type who wants to take care of myself. I’ve always been self-sufficient, able to set goals and achieve them. In fact, I have a goal right now to get back to normal. To be able to go to sleep at night and forget to set my alarm and be okay with it. To get on a plane and go to a city I’ve never been to before, and walk the streets without fear of being attacked. These are things I desperately want, and as Frankie says, I have the ability and determination to get them.
I’m just frustrated it hasn’t happened yet.
“Are you good paying bills?” she asks.
This is funny, because her tone implies she’s going to step in and help me financially. But Frankie makes a pittance now compared to her former salary at Reynis, so between her living expenses and paying back student loans, she doesn’t have much.
“I’m good. I have a good chunk in savings, and I’ve got leads on several interesting jobs.”
“Have you considered going back to school?”
I had been, in fact. Without any strong idea of what I want to do with my life, perhaps I need more education.
“I thought about it. Along with a million other things. Unfortunately, when you’re paralyzed with fear, it makes it hard to conceive what your potential might be. But I’m working on it.”
“I know you are,” she affirms, nudging my leg with her own. “Okay, enough with this boring stuff. Tell me what I really want to hear. Lunch with a devastatingly gorgeous man. How did you meet? How did you get the guts to go downtown? Are you seeing him again? And will you be having sex anytime soon, because, girl… you are way overdue.”
My face heats—the thought of having sex with someone as fine as Baden Oulett is completely overwhelming. He’s totally out of my league.
“It’s not like that,” I rush to assure her.
She smirks, and I can read it in her eyes. She doesn’t believe that for a moment.