Page 113 of Pucking Wild

I go still, holding tight to the box. “Probably,” I admit. “At this point, I’ve kept my shrink gainfully employed for years talking about all my bullshit. Single mom who never loved me, flighty family, abandonment issues, toxic ex, blah, blah. It’s pretty boring stuff.”

“I don’t think it’s boring,” she replies. “And you don’t need to deflect all the time, you know. You can let people know what’s troubling you. It doesn’t make you weak to admit it. And it doesn’t open a door to them weaponizing that knowledge against you. Some people are good, Tess. Some people genuinely want to help. You don’t have to keep running.”

“Whoa,” I say with a huff. “What made you say all that?”

“Because I’m a shrink too. Well, I’m a child psychologist,” she clarifies. “I work mainly with kids in the foster system. A lot of those kids are runners too. I see the signs in you.”

“Well…great.” I hoist the case of soda under my arm. “Glad to know I’m so transparent. You know, the great cosmic joke is that I fucking hate running.”

She laughs, but then her smile falls. “We all do what we need to do to survive. Can I ask who you’re running from?”

“My ex,” I reply. “I’m finally pushing him for a divorce after three years of separation and he’s not too happy about it.”

“I can imagine. Is he threatening you?”

“With fire and brimstone.” I gesture to my devil costume in another lame attempt at humor.

She doesn’t laugh.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I add quickly.

“Are there kids involved?”

“No.”

“Property? Business assets?”

“Both,” I reply.

“What are they worth to you?”

I hold her gaze, feeling so completely seen. She may look like Candace, but the voice is so different, the mannerisms, the warmth of feeling in her expressions. I set all my hesitation aside and give her my truth. “Not more than my life.”

She nods. “Good. Let them go, Tess. Things are replaceable. Job skills are transferable. Your life and your well-being are theonlythings that matter. Let everything else go.”

I tip my head, surveying her. “You’re not just a shrink, are you? You lived through this too.”

Now it’s her turn to shrug. “Josh is my second husband. He came along shortly after Addie and I got out of our last situation. He’s our hero,” she says with tears in her eyes. “Our guardian angel. He’s the one I was meant to find, you know? He’s the father my children were meant to have.”

“I’m happy for you,” I say. “And hey, about the other day when I was so rude—”

“Nope.” She raises a hand. “Don’t even go there. It’s forgotten.”

I sigh, leaning my hip against the chrome utility bench. “You know, you’re pretty cool.”

She smiles again. “I have a feeling so are you. Hey, do you like karaoke?”

“Am I singing or mocking those who sing?”

“Either,” she says with a laugh. “Both. We all go out to karaoke over at Rip’s on Thursday nights. You should come next week. I promise I won’t give you any more unsolicited life advice.”

I shift the soda box under my arm. “Sure. Maybe I’ll check it out.”

She grabs a box as well and gestures for me to lead the way out to the backyard.

As I get to the door, I feel her hand brush my shoulder. “Hey…can I ask you for a favor? Are we friends enough for me to do that?”

I raise a brow at her. “What’s the favor?”

---