Chapter 6
Carrie
Sarah beamed as the bell above me rang once as I entered Rossy’s.
She was standing behind the checkout counter, dressed in a navy wrap dress that made her look even more angelic than yesterday.
“Good morning,” she greeted, her voice like a song as I moved to the front of the counter.
It had been a good morning—the best morning I’d experienced in a very long time. Like always, I’d woken up with the sun, something I’d done since I was a teenager. However, this morning, I wasn’t bombarded with medications, a slimy breakfast, and two or three nurses telling me what to do or how to dress for the day.
No, instead, I woke up in my new bed, in my new room, in a house I could make my own. My sheets smelled of fresh flowers and lemon, the rays of the morning sun peeking through my windows.
I wasn’t handed a box of crayons and a blank piece of paper before being told to draw what I was feeling so some doctor who didn’t give two shits could analyze it. No, instead, I got out of bed with ease, stretched, washed my face, let down my curls, and headed downstairs to have a cup of coffee on the back deck. I listened to the town of Astoria come alive as the seagulls sang and the boats went out on the river for the day, the somewhat-quiet morning traffic in the background reminding me nothing of my old life. After half an hour on the deck, sipping on my coffee and soaking up all the warmth the sun was willing to give, I went inside and made a breakfast I actually wanted to eat.
Strawberry waffles.
Now, I was here, at Rossy’s Books, just like she asked.
“Good morning,” I said back, trying to match her cheery tone.
“How was your first night in the house?” she asked as she turned away from me to grab a small stack of children’s books.
I swallowed, gratitude overwhelming me once more. My words came out softly. “It was wonderful.”
She carefully put the books into a cloth bag, Rossy’s Books on it in wine-colored letters. The logo was precious. Instead of the “O” in Rossy, it was replaced with a steaming cup of coffee.
Sarah smiled at me. “Michael wanted to stop by and check on you last night, but I told him to let you have time to settle in,” she explained as she turned around to grab a second stack of books, repeating the bagging process.
As her words settled in the air between us, the smell of books and coffee lingering, I was grateful she kept Michael away—at least for now. I enjoyed last night, despite how tired I was. I may have been running on fumes, but I’d never had a chance to make a house a home before. When I married Robert, everything in the house was chosen by him. I didn’t have a say in anything.
What Sarah and Michael gave me was a gift.
A precious gift.
One I could never repay.
“Thank you for that,” I told her, watching her hands work. “And thank you again for…everything yesterday. I was fully prepared to spend a few nights in a hotel while I shopped around for a place to stay.”
“Well then, maybe Michael stopping you was fate stepping in,” Sarah replied, meeting my eyes as she leaned over the counter. “It’s a beautiful thing, you know?”
Fate.
I could feel my throat burning, but I swallowed again, forcing the burn to disappear. “So, uh, why did you need me here this morning?” I asked, changing the subject.
She blew out a breath before a bubbly laugh came from her. “Okay, I hope you don’t think I’m crazy for saying this, but…I want to give you a job.”
A job?
I blinked. “A-a job?”
The kind woman nodded. “Yes. A job. I don’t know what your plans are, but I wanted to be the first to offer one before everyone else in town finds out you’re here,” she explained with a laugh.
I looked over the wall of books and then to the coffee counter, where Margo was loading up coffee beans. “I don’t—I don’t understand,” I whispered, looking back at Sarah. “You’ve already done so much for me, and you haven’t even known me for twenty-four hours.”
The smile slowly faded from Sarah’s face, quickly replaced by pity.
I didn’t want anyone’s pity, but in my situation, there wasn’t anything I could do but accept it. I wasn’t strong enough to refuse it. Hell, I didn’t even know how I would do that.
I froze as Sarah came around the counter. Not even a second later, my hands were in hers as she held them up between us, our gazes locked. “Carrie?” she called softly.
The burning was back, and so were the tears I thought I was done shedding. They didn’t spill over, though. I wouldn’t let them, not yet, not here in front of this angel I’d just met yesterday.
“Yes?” My voice was almost non-existent as every emotion a human was capable of feeling clogged my throat, possessing me to remain frozen in place. I couldn’t move away from her even if I wanted to.
“You landed in a soft spot, Carrie. It’s okay to stop fighting. I know it’s weird, I know it’s a whirlwind, and I know you’ve been running with your defenses up, but you’re safe here. Let me help you start your new chapter.”
“Sarah—”
She squeezed my hands. “Take the job. It doesn’t pay much, and its only part time, but it will give you something to do while you find yourself again.”
My bottom lip trembled as the bell above the door jingled and a British accent filled my ears. “Did you hire her yet, darling?”
Unexpectedly, a laugh bubbled up from me. The sound was so shocking, I didn’t believe it was real for a moment, but only a moment, because then, the laughter didn’t stop. Sarah joined me, her eyes shining with what could only be described as love.
“I’ll take the job,” I declared once our laughter died.
“Good,” she said before turning me around to face the man I’d met yesterday. “This is Rossy.”
Rossy smiled, holding his hand out to me. “Very excited to meet you, my dear.”
I shook his hand. “So you’re my boss?”
The man threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound echoing against the books. “Heavens no. I leave all that nonsense to Sarah. I may be the owner, but I don’t run the damn thing.”
My brows rose in surprise as he spun on his heel, leaving Sarah and I behind to head over to the coffee counter.
“He’s a nut, but I love him,” Sarah whispered in my ear.
He was, but in the best way. “What does he do?” I found myself asking.
“Drinks coffee, hogs the window seats, reads novels. Oh, and he’ll get authors to come in for signings,” she told me as I turned to face her.
“Author signings?”
She nodded. “Its difficult since this is a small town and we’re a small store. Most publishers aren’t interested in sending their authors out here, but the independently published authors love coming. We have a signing next month.”
“That sounds fun,” I murmured, more to myself than to her.
“When you start on Monday, we can talk about it more,” Sarah said. “Now, I want you to take the weekend to explore the town. Go try Margie’s, walk the new boardwalk, go to the shops.”
I looked around the bookstore, noticing it was busier than yesterday. “Are you sure you don’t want me to start today?” I asked.
She shook her head, bagging more books. “Nope,” she replied popping the “p.”
I nodded and looked down to my clothes: plain jeans and a T-shirt that was just a little too tight on me. I’d gained a lot of weight while in rehab, but I wasn’t mad. I’d grown comfortable with being…comfortable and not having to worry about what that stupid number on the scale said. I felt healthy for the first time in my life, and the hunger pains had finally ended.
So, I really needed new clothes. “Is the General Store the only place to get clothes around here?” I asked, looking back up at her.
She shook her head, lifting her arm to point out the big shop windows. “No, there’s a few boutiques down that way. The girls in there are really nice too. I shop at Pam’s all the time,” she boasted. My eyes dropped to her slender figure, silently wondering if the small boutiques would have anything in my size.
I cleared my throat. “Do they have a…wide variety of sizes?” I asked softly.
Sarah’s brows came together. “Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?”
Fat-phobia was the first thing that popped into my head, but I held my tongue. Instead, I thanked her, and we chatted about the house for a few more minutes before I moved on, grabbing a to-go latte from Margo and heading out into the late morning sun.
Astoria was bustling with life this morning, and pots filled with pink and orange flowers lined the sidewalks. The street was filled with people of all ages walking, talking, and laughing. The buildings were beautiful, each one adding personality to the town, painted in a variety of colors. I saw a few signs for a couple of museums, then came across a sign detailing the history of the town.
It was the oldest town in Oregon.
“That’s pretty cool,” I mumbled to myself as clouds drifted in front of the sun. I looked up and decided that, even without the sun, this town was beautiful.
The further down I got, I could smell the fish from the docks and could even see a few boats in between the buildings. I spotted Margie’s across the street from me, the back of the restaurant clearly having a beautiful view of the water, and I promised myself I’d stop in for lunch later. Continuing to sip my coffee, I strolled for a few more minutes until I saw a few boutiques. They were all nestled at the end of Marine Dr, two on each side of the street.
Raising my chin, I mustered up every ounce of confidence I had—which wasn’t much—and went into the first boutique. As the door shut behind me, I was overwhelmed with the smell of citrus and vanilla. My eyes wandered over the racks of clothes in the middle of the floor, over to the wall of shoes and bags. I hadn’t been clothes shopping since I was a teenager and after high school, I didn’t get to pick what I wanted to wear. My outfits were chosen for me throughout most of my adulthood.
How silly was that?
Looking back on it now, after everything I’d been through, I begun to realize it wasn’t silly at all—it was a form of control.
You’re free now, Carrie. Remember that.
“Hi, welcome to Seaside Boutique,” a kind female voice said from my right.
My head slowly turned towards the sound as I forced my eyes away from the pair of cherry red heeled sandals on the wall. A young woman stood behind the counter. She was curvy—like me and my heart sighed as I made my way towards her.
“Hi, I’m Carrie,” I answered on a squeak.
The woman’s eyes flashed. “You’re Sarah’s girl! She texted me that you might be popping in.” she exclaimed. “Hi, I’m Pam!”
I blew out a breath, holding in the second round of laughter that threatened to spill out this morning. Sarah, the angel I didn’t know I needed. “Yes, I’m Sarah’s girl.”
Pam came around the small baby pink counter, waving me closer. “Come in, come in.” As I made my way further into the store, she asked, “So what are we shopping for today?”
“An entire new wardrobe,” I blurted.
Her eyes widened. “Like…?”
I nodded, feeling my ringlets bounce around my neck. “Everything.”
A huge, bright smile stretched across her features, and she jumped up and down with glee. I flinched at her reaction, but she didn’t notice. “Oh my gosh! This is going to be so fun,” she breathed, grabbing my shoulders and steering me towards the back of the store as she began firing off questions about what I liked, what my style was, did I have a color palette I wanted to stick to…
Once we were in front of the dressing rooms, I turned to her. “I don’t know. I’ve never…” I trailed off and looked at the wall, not wanting to cry in front of another stranger. “I recently got out of a bad situation,” I summed up, “and I gained weight.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Pam said softly.
I met her eyes. “I know. I know that, but that’s not the problem.”
She tilted her head to the side, patiently waiting.
I sighed. “I don’t know who I am anymore,” I whispered, my throat thick.
If I cried in public one more time…
Pam smiled warmly. “And that’s okay too.”
Then, she put her hands together and stepped back from me, her eyes scanning my figure. “Well, the first thing we need is to get you measured and I can already tell that you have more of a triangle body type, which is amazing for dresses. How do you feel about those?”
“I like dresses,” I told her quietly.
“We’re also going to do a color analysis on you, that okay?”
“I’m up for anything as long as I walk out of here with new clothes,” I said.
She chuckled. “Glad to hear it,” she replied as she clapped her hands. “Okay, let’s get started.”
Four hours later, I walked out of Pam’s shop with more bags than I could handle, plus the biggest smile. After I got the bags into my car, I walked back down the street to Margie’s. There, I sat in a cozy corner booth overlooking the water and ordered a delicious lunch, finally having the freedom to actually enjoy food.
Then, my perfect Saturday went to shit when I found a note taped to my red front door I loved so much.
My hands trembled as the bags slid off my shoulders, falling to the porch with a plop. My body froze as the air in my lungs became trapped, my eyes scanning the note over and over.