She mentally went through her list of friends. Or rather, acquaintances. Most of them were colleagues she didn’t want to see right now because she couldn’t trust them to refrain from gossiping about her. Kayla would be the obvious choice, but she was busy with her day shifts and volunteering at the free clinic this week.
Maybe Diana? They weren’t friends, but she was certainly funny enough to spend an afternoon with. Where had Jess put her number? She took her work bag from the closet and opened the outside pocket. Here it was. Right where she had left it.
She took her phone out and was about to call when she saw the time. Half past six. She texted instead.
Hey, Dr. Rock Chick. Got time for a chat?
Not one minute later, the phone rang.
“Didn’t we settle on first names after seeing each other naked?” The amusement was clear in Diana’s voice. “How are you?”
“Fine. But recuperating is boring as hell.” Jess paced in the small room, wondering how to phrase an invitation. Why hadn’t she thought this through?
“I can imagine. You don’t seem like the type to be happy about unpaid vacations and forced rest.”
They both laughed, and Jess remembered her manners. “Sorry to bother you this early.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m on my last night shift. In about an hour, I’ll be off work for the next three days.”
What a perfect coincidence. “Would you like to hang out with me one of those days? I’ve heard about a nice café I wanted to try out.”
“Oh. Hold on a second.” Diana voice was muffled as she talked to someone in her vicinity.
Jess suppressed a snort. Asking the girlfriend for permission?
“Okay, sure. Not today, though. I need to catch up on sleep first. Tomorrow? Or the day after?”
“Let’s say tomorrow. The weather is supposed to be fine and we can sit outside.” And Lena would be at the farmers market.
Chapter Eight
Lena sat on one of the strategically placed chairs between the flower beds. She wished she had more time to enjoy Maggie’s ample opportunities to sit and relax in her garden. With her sketchbook balanced on her thighs, she outlined the foxglove. If she was lucky, she would be able to color this sketch before her shift at Cashew Cult. She hummed as her favorite extra-fine pen flew over the paper. It had been over a week since she’d last been home and awake enough to try to sketch.
The sound of her phone made her flinch. She wanted to ignore it, but it might be another client. She pulled the phone from her pocket.
Unknown caller. Her pen slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. Had her mother somehow gotten her new number? “Lena Walker.”
“Hi, Lena, this is Rachel.”
“Oh, hi.” Lena let out a shaky breath. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” But her tone belied her words; her friend sounded far from her usual cheery self. “I’m calling from my mom’s place. She had an accident. A car hit her when she was crossing the street. Broken hip and wrist. The idiot of a driver ran and left her there.”
“Oh no, how is she?” Lena closed her sketchbook and clutched it against her chest.
“Okay now, but she had to have an operation and a lot of physiotherapy.” Rachel sighed. “Her insurance is minimal. Now the bills are stacking up.”
“I’m so sorry.” Lena could understand where Rachel was coming from. When her mother had broken both wrists in a drunken fall down the stairs, she hadn’t had insurance either. And Lena was still paying off the debt. Debt. Lena shuddered. “You’re calling about the loan, right?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I know we have the rates and everything in writing, but I need to help my mom, and…” To her credit, she sounded genuinely sorry. Not that it helped Lena in any way.
“It’s okay.” She had hoped to take on fewer clients in the evenings now she had all the regular bills under control. But not paying back the loan wasn’t an option. Rachel had helped Lena to start her business selling preserves at the farmers market.
She swallowed. Twice. “Do you need everything at once?” She wouldn’t be able to make the payment, but maybe she could get another loan somewhere. The thought of the interest she would have to pay made her dizzy.
“No, but maybe we can renegotiate the rates. How much can you pay?”
Lena tried to calculate, but the numbers fled her mind like a swarm of frightened sparrows. “I need to check my bills. Can I call you back?”
“Let’s talk on the next market day. I’m living with my mom again and can’t always pick up the phone.” Rachel sighed and didn’t elaborate. She didn’t have to. More than once, they’d talked about Rachel’s concern for her aging mother, who lived alone.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I need to check in with work first, pick up a few extra shifts.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later.” Relief replaced the trepidation in Rachel’s voice as she said goodbye.
Lena pushed the phone into her pocket, picked up her pen, and opened her sketchbook. She wanted to immerse herself in the sketch, where everything was beautiful and blooming and brilliant. But her fingers shook.
Before she could draw another line, wet spots dotted the paper. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and packed up her sketching supplies.
Striding back to the house, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. But it was no use. Her vision blurred, and she walked blindly down the path.
Until she ran into a soft obstacle that immediately started cursing. “Can’t you watch where you’re going?” Jess pushed her away and held her at arm’s length. “Are you…are you crying? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” The last words were a whisper.
“No. Yes. No.” Lena shook her head to clear it. “I’m sorry. Let me
