of us can cover things. And tell Rory he’s not paying me. This definitely falls under the friends-helping-friends category.”
At Daralyn’s undecided look, Amanda drew closer, and her expression was kind. “I can tell you’re really worried about him. Really, I don’t mind covering. And if anything comes up tonight where he needs something from the pharmacy, tell him he can call me. I can access the over-the-counter stuff after hours.”
“That’s really nice. Thanks.” Daralyn struggled to smile, but it failed.
“Aw, sweetie, you’re really gone over him, aren’t you?” Amanda continued before Daralyn could decide if she needed to flee the conversation. “I’m so glad. He’s one of the really good ones, you know? Like Marty. Some of the girls I went to school with, all they could think about was getting out of here, going to bigger cities and meeting these guys who they thought had seen and done so much more than the guys around here. And doing things like that themselves.”
Amanda shrugged. “That’s cool, and okay, and probably pretty true. But to my way of thinking, building a nest where you’re happy is more important than building it somewhere that impresses other people. Gotta follow your heart. That’s the most important thing.”
Amanda grimaced. “Sorry, I’m just rambling, but you look really worried. Sometimes you’re like being around a deer. Not sure if what I say will spook you or not.”
It was the most straightforward thing she’d ever said to Daralyn, and there was no meanness in the observation. Maybe because she was worried about Rory, really wanting to be with him, Daralyn’s ability to make appropriate small talk, never her best skill, failed her.
“I don’t know how to feel about you,” she said abruptly. “I don’t know…how to deal with some things the way other people do.”
Amanda sent her a shrewd look. “Like me and Rory having been together.”
Daralyn bit her lip. “Um…that’s none of my business. That’s between you and Rory, and I respect his privacy. As well as yours. It’s okay.”
“I have a feeling it is your business. And this is between us girls.” Amanda gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Rory and I had our time, and it was good. Really good. But we never connected heart to heart, if that makes sense. When we were teens, we had a good time and enjoyed one another, and we thought about more, the way teenagers will, but we’re not meant for the long haul together.”
Daralyn thought about that. “How are your studies going?” she ventured shyly. “For the pharmacy tech job?”
“Oh, really good.” Amanda brightened, reminding Daralyn of how she felt about her own classes. “I’ve been learning so much, and Bill, our pharmacist, is so encouraging. He’s been helping me by…”
As Amanda’s enthusiasm for her career path broke through, any tension Daralyn had about her and Rory’s connection ebbed away. The woman’s kindness was genuine.
Even after five years, that too was unexpected. Though she dutifully followed Dr. Taylor’s suggestions, Daralyn could never shake the uneasiness that said the people she trusted the most could decide she wasn’t worth their time, because she was too damaged. Not connected to them by blood, not really belonging.
She wondered what it would be like, to go to bed at night without the fear she would wake in the morning and find it had all been a dream. She’d still be in a tiny room, every thought she had competing with the incessant drone of her father’s television, the stale smell of cigarettes, and the dull edge of an empty belly. The futile hope underneath it all, that something new would happen to change the colorless routine of her bleak waking hours.
Her phone buzzed and she stole a look at it.
Hammock offer stands. I’m good. You worry too much.
“He just texted you,” Amanda said, grinning. “I could tell. You got all doe-eyed. Want to talk about how dreamy our guys are? Marty gets this intense look when he’s fixing jewelry that makes my knees weak. I know just how stupid that sounds, so quick, tell me something equally dumb so I won’t feel like a lovesick idiot.”
A slow smile crossed Daralyn’s face. “When Rory’s doing the financials for the store, he gets very focused. He’ll prop his hand on the counter and stroke his beard. The computer light will catch his eyes. They’re brown, but when that happens, they have touches of gold. He has a lock of hair that falls over his forehead here,” she passed her fingers over her