Page 50 of Single Girl in the City
Litter of puppies
Twenty minutes later, Abi stepped out of the employee entrance that led to the back parking lot. In the near distance, she could see Dotti’s car idling. The wind slapped her around, causing her hair to come loose from her ponytail. April had made a showstopping appearance with fog so thick the Tesla’s headlights were fuzzy orbs in the distance.
Thinking Dotti would meet her halfway, Abi walked out from under the safety of the overhang and into the drizzle, which made her hair frizz like the tail of a pissed-off cat. Dotti didn’t get out of her car, merely drove closer and rolled down her window.
“I so owe you,” Abi said when her sister held out Abi’s cell phone. Then she looked into the back seat to find her niece and nephew in footsie pajamas, fast asleep in their car seats. “I am so sorry. If I’d known you had the kids, I would have told you not to bother.”
“You said it was an emergency,” her sister whispered.
“It was,” she whispered back. “But … why didn’t you just tell me.”
“Hank’s working late. He’s always working late. And now that you’re here, he leaves early too. So, I had to wake the kids to bring you your phone. There. Happy?”
No, she wasn’t. She felt awful for her part in the fiasco, but Dotti was partly to blame. Her sister did guilt like the president did executive orders—often and with great authority. A fun fact Abi decided to keep to herself, even though all it would have taken was for Dotti to explain the situation. Sometimes, she felt as if Dotti were setting her up to be the bad guy.
Not that Abi needed much help in that department when it came to family. Outsiders though? Abi might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but over the years she’d become a master at making friends and influencing people—a side effect of moving from home to home. But while a lot of people considered Abi their best friend, she’d only ever had one best friend.
Jenny.
“Don’t worry about picking me up tonight, I’ll find a way home,” Abi said.
“How? You can’t take public transportation. I live too far outside the city for a friend to drop you off. And you can barely afford to pay rent let alone keep taking rideshares. You need to grow up.”
“I am a grown-up,” she said, having a hard time sounding tough when whispering. “I’m busting my ass to pay my share, which I have.” She grimaced. “Or I will when I get my paycheck.”
Dotti wiped her eyes and that’s when Abi realized her sister was crying. “Oh my god, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” Dotti said into her hands. “Hank’s never home, I feel like a beached whale. I’m in the middle of a hormonal crisis and my emotions are as stable as a nuclear reactor during an earthquake. Why am I having another baby?”
“So you’re pregnant?”
“Like a rabbit in spring.”
Abi didn’t know a lot about being pregnant, other than it made people crazy, but she did know a lot about helping people.
“How about I take tomorrow off. Switch with someone and take the kids to the zoo. I’ll even treat you to a spa day, on me. A day to yourself, being pampered, might clear your head.”
“While that is sweet, it’s only a temporary fix.” She handed Abi the cell. “This isn’t working, Abs.”
“I know,” Abi said. “I am so sorry. It won’t happen again. I was just in a rush and completely spaced.”
She’d spaced because she was spread so thin. She’d covered for Patty at Sip Me, then ran bingo night at the senior center, where she caught Stan and Bertha doing the cupid canoodle in the atrium. She chose not to report it because then she’d have to write a detailed summary of the entire event—and Abi didn’t even want to think about Stan’s One-Eyed Willie let alone write about it.
Dotti couldn’t hold Abi’s gaze and a bad feeling lodged itself right between the ribs. “No, I mean the arrangements.”
“I don’t understand.” But Abi was pretty sure did she understand—understand that life was about to kick her in the teeth again. “Are you kicking me out?”
“Don’t think of it like that.”
“I don’t know how else to take it.”
“You could get yourownplace. Have yourownroom. Have some space to work things out,” Dotti said. “This could be good for you.”
“I think this is about what’s good for you.” Abi heard her breath hitch but didn’t feel any tears. Instead of anger she felt lost and this ache deep in her soul. “For me it just means I’ll be alone.”
Completely alone. She didn’t talk about the accident to her family because she knew it upset them. And she didn’t have deep enough connections with the friends she had made to burden them with something so depressing. But being around the sounds and energy of Dotti and the kids had been therapeutic.
“I know you’re freaked out about having another baby,” Abi said. “Let me help out more, take some of the burden off you.”
