with animals, which Carter used to do a lot.
Today is Mills’s day off at The Lodge. Since I don’t have anything to do just like Blaire, I ask if I can tag along with her.
Her medical practice hasn’t opened yet, but she’s been doing house calls.
“I’m heading to the shelter,” she informs me.
“There’s a shelter?” I ask, surprised because I’ve walked all around town with Buster and Daisy several times.
It’s a lovely place, and it also helps them get to know their surroundings in case they ever wander outside the property. I trust them but not the adults in this house. We’ve caught them leaving the gate open several times.
“It’s right by the church,” she explains. “I’ve been meaning to visit it since I arrived. I doubt there’s a doctor giving them services if they need medical attention.”
“Probably not,” I confirm and suggest, “We should set up a dispensary around there.”
She sighs, “Let’s add it to our list of projects. We can probably build a hospital and make sure we provide care for everyone. I can see myself working on that list way after you guys leave.”
“We’ll be around for a long time,” I say, not knowing how long I plan on staying.
The time I’ve spent here hasn’t given me any answers about my future. Today is the one-year anniversary since I moved out of the house. One year and I still haven’t been able to leave him. Is having a child an excuse?
As a single woman it will be difficult to get approved, but not impossible.
To avoid overthinking, I offer my help, “Do you need an assistant for the day?”
She gives me a thoughtful look before responding, “I’d love the company if you don’t mind.”
During the walk, we discuss the weather. It’s boring yet impressive how we can manage to talk about that subject with so much depth every single day. It’s a way to avoid saying something that might end up on the town’s social media. The guys do enough damage while venting all their stuff at The Lodge every single day.
When we arrive, there’s no one using the shelter, just one person who volunteers every other day to open and clean. She explains to us that people seek shelter more often during winter. Those who come are usually stranded hikers, campers, and runaway teenagers.
“We’d love to help,” I offer. “Do you have a list of supplies you need?”
“How about food?” Blaire asks.
“When we can, we use the church’s kitchen. Some days we just give them the leftovers from the diner.”
“We should make a deal with Toni,” I suggest. “We’ll have them bill that to us. Everyone, including the volunteers, should have a meal.”
Blaire gives me a curious look when I say, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”
“Parrish might not approve the expense.”
“Who is Parrish again?” I ask, confused.
“The lawyer,” she responds.
I shake my head. “This shouldn’t be an Aldridge project. I’ll pay for it.”
Before we leave, the volunteer gives us a list of what they need. They get some help from the town, but not much. We give her our information and ask her to call us if anyone needs medical attention or when she has a teenager that might need help finding a good place to live.
“Where is this ‘good place’ where we’re going to send the runaway teens?” Blaire asks when we arrive home.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “It’s something I’d have to figure out when we get the call. I’m just giving them an option.”
“I have a friend who has a home for runaway teenagers,” she states. “But, it’s in San Francisco.”
“Then we fly them there, or we ask your friend to help us set up a house like that here. When you are out of options and you think the world is about to swallow you, it is good to know that there’s hope.”
She studies me and then hits me with a question I should’ve seen coming when I opened my big mouth.
“How do you know?”
I shrug. I’ve never gotten this far into a friendship. Everything is always superficial because not many have time to pay attention to what the people around them have to say. Nobody cares. I don’t know if it’s the people I deal with daily, how modern society has evolved, or me.
“My last set of foster parents weren’t bad. But when you’re a teenager, you feel like the world is about to end and that no one understands you.” My voice is casual, my eyes remain glued on