Page 32 of Flare Up
“I have to work at the market at two, so I’m going to take it easy and hope my stomach and my head are recovered by then.” She blew out a breath. “And next time I go to Kincaid’s, I’m having one drink and that’s it. Between going to the club and last night, I’ve had more alcohol in a week than I’ve had in the last year or more.”
“You went through a lot, honey. Take your fun when you can get it.” Patty got up and refilled their coffee mugs. “Oh, I have a couple of bags in the back of my car for you. I forgot all about them.”
“Bags of what?”
“One of the tellers at the bank is built like you and she’s always talking about needing to get rid of at least half of her clothes because she’s always buying new ones and never donates the old. When I told her about you, she went through her closets and drawers and filled two trash bags. She said it’s a mix of casual and work wear.”
Wren’s eyes welled up, but she blinked the tears away. She absolutely couldn’t cry right now. Her head couldn’t take it. “That’s so generous of her. Tell her I said thank you, please.”
“I will.” Patty looked at her closely and then frowned. “You don’t feel weird about it, do you? She was going to donate them, but she’s a nice dresser, so I think you’ll like them.”
“I don’t feel weird about it at all. I’m very grateful to her. And to you.” She sniffed hard. “To everybody. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you all.”
“You would have gotten through it, one way or the other. But I’m glad we can make it a little easier for you.”
Later, when they’d summoned the energy to bring the bags in from the car and they were side by side in the laundry room, sorting them into lights and darks, Wren found herself getting emotional again.
“Are you okay?”
She gave a wry laugh. “I think this is more clothes than I had before the fire. And nicer, too.”
“I swear that girl blows all of her money on clothes. I tell her all the time she should be saving some of it.” Patty poked her arm with her elbow. “But today, I’m pretty happy she doesn’t.”
Wren laughed. “Me, too.”
She was getting ready to leave for the bus stop when her phone chimed with a text message from Grant.
How are you feeling today?
She felt her cheeks get hot and was glad he couldn’t see her.
Not bad for somebody who obviously had too much to drink last night.
I’d like to see you tomorrow.
Before she could type a reply, another text came through.
We should talk.
That sounded ominous.
I don’t work either job tomorrow so I’m free. Do you want to meet somewhere?
He took his time responding.
It might be easier to talk here at my place. But we can meet somewhere if you’d rather.
Your place is fine. What time?
Five? I’ll order that pizza you like.
A sausage and mushroom pizza with the garlicky crust she liked from the place around the corner from him sounded less ominous.
Sounds great.
See you then.
She didn’t have a lot to go on, but at least the question of how she should feel about last night wouldn’t drag on for days.
