Chapter 7
The day went by faster than Kerrie expected. She had managed to keep some of the joy from running the group into the afternoon. She was still massively behind. Every time she checked, there were more audits. Kerrie had never been great at paperwork, and then they switched to digital. There were so many little tabs and boxes to check or write in. There was a group of people dedicated to going over the counselor's paperwork that caught mistakes and then would send them back to the counselor to be corrected. Too many errors would result in the state taking back the grants. The audits were supposed to be done within 48 hours, but that was laughable at this point for Kerrie. She was easily two weeks behind. The biggest problem, though, was the fast-approaching end of the month, and the corrections had to be completed for the audit manager to close out the month.
Kerrie stood from her chair, stretching her long arms up high as pops sounded from her back and shoulders, sending satisfying relief over her. She had spent the last two hours working on audits, and her brain was about to melt. She longed for the days when they just had to put their notes and a few notable things in the client's charts. Now, they needed all the information in the world and in specific spots. It was laborious and annoying. She just wanted to treat the clients, but the state needed to know in detail what their money was being spent on.
As she was ducking out of her office, she came face to face with Bette Cooper. She hadn't heard the woman come in. Feeling ashamed for her behavior, she nodded at Bette as she walked by, "Hello."
Bette held a professional smile, but her eyes held anger. "Hello. "
"Uh, I'm just going to pop out for a moment, and then I'll be back. Wilson is here in his office."
"Okay."
Kerrie quickly left the building after letting Wilson know she was going to the store. She decided to walk to the convenience store just a street over. It would do her some good to move around after sitting behind a desk all day. As she strolled over, her long, thick legs were doing good work to get her there briskly. She couldn't help but feel a cloud of guilt settle over her shoulders. She really should have been nicer to Bette. Or did she like to be called Ms. Cooper? Was she a Mrs. Cooper? Either way, Kerrie had been an ass to her. Bette didn't deserve to have Kerrie's frustrations taken out on her. It was Tyler who had sprung Bette on Kerrie, and when she got to the bottom of it, it was Kerrie who had gotten herself into the pickle she was in. Bette was only trying to work. And would it be so bad if she helped out? She remembered the feeling she had when she left the basement after group. Needed, helpful, fulfilled. She was supposed to be there to help the men turn their lives around. Not be tied down by audits and chore lists.
The old country store was white-painted cement brick with promotional posters for various beers on the windows and only two gas pumps. It was the quintessential southern convenience store. They served breakfast in the mornings, hot plate specials at lunch, and to-go pizzas and hamburgers for dinner. It smelled the same: fried food, tobacco, and purple Fabuloso floor cleaner. Old men would meet up for a cup of coffee and fried bologna biscuit in the mornings. A window in the side of the building would ding whenever someone drove up for cigarette purchases.
Bells chimed as she stepped in, nodding her head at the familiar man behind the counter. "Afternoon, Don."
"Hey Kerrie, want me to make you up a sandwich?"
"No, thanks. I just want a snack and a minute away from work."
"You sure? I got that thick-cut bologna you like," he offered, knowing that she was a sucker for a fresh-cut sandwich.
She paused mid-step on the way to the drink cooler. She turned. "You got the spicy kind?"
"Yep," he nodded with a grin. He knew he had her.
She sighed, trying and failing at stifling a grin. "Fine, I'll take a spicy. Will you make Kenny up a regular one? We'll have those for dinner. "
"Can do. Lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, and mustard; hold the onions on Kenny's because he thinks onions are spicy, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
Kerrie went over to the drink cooler to grab a diet Sun Drop, a citrusy carbonated beverage similar to Mountain Dew but more caffeinated and a southern Tennessee treasure. It could take the paint off a wall. She pressed the cool bottle to her forehead briefly, letting it take the edge off her heated skin from walking over in the sun. She went over an aisle, grabbed a bag of spicy mixed nuts, and then made a beeline for the antacids because the stash in her desk was out. As she waited for the sandwiches, she looked at the time. She had been gone 15 minutes. Taking a break wasn't a big deal, but she didn't want to leave Wilson and the new woman alone for long.
Her gut twisted again. She needed to apologize to Bette. Suck it up and make amends with her. That was what she planned to do.
***
Bette watched the rude, tall drink of a masculine female walk out of the building, leaving her alone in the hall. She had waved hi to Wilson when she first came in. He was an odd old man with hardly any hair left. He didn't appear to be the talkative sort, but he hadn't been rude to her.
She tugged her purse strap higher on her shoulder as she fumbled with the new key to her office. The whole day had been spent in the portable watching training videos. She didn't think it would ever end. She was thrilled when she clicked finish on the last one and was told she could go to The Church to start setting up her office.
Pushing the white-painted door open, she found the room dark and cool. The curtains had been closed, and the sun had shifted to the other side of the building, causing little natural light to filter in. The navy blue carpet sunk some as she walked over it, and she wondered again if the flooring underneath was just as old as the building.
"Well, let's see what we can get into," she mumbled aloud to herself.
She pulled open the top drawer of one of two filing cabinets and was pleased when she found just a few pieces of paper and a pencil that had been snapped in half. She placed her purse in it to keep it out of sight. She didn't want it to be a temptation to anyone. She walked over to the lone window, pushed the curtains back, and then turned on the overhead light, grimacing at the harsh glare. She liked softer lights like lamps. They didn't feel as overwhelming.
She began looking through the other file cabinet, flipping through papers that, according to the dates, probably should have been shredded a year ago. She spied a shredder in the corner and plugged it in, bending at the waist and wishing she had more comfortable shoes to change into instead of her platform heels. With the machine now on, she began placing small stacks in the opening, watching it slowly grind them into bits. She did that for a while before becoming bored and deciding to move to the desk.
The computer and keyboard dwarfed the small desk. She sat in the chair, and her heart leaped as its back fell off, thunking onto the floor. "What the hell?"
She stood with a frown and picked up the chair back, jumping when someone knocked on her open door.
"I see you're getting your first glimpse at the high-quality furniture that Turtle Grove Rehabilitation is known for," quipped the southern, husky drawl of Kerrie Matthews behind her.
Bette sucked in a breath and turned. Kerrie leaned against the door frame, where she occupied most of the space. In her hand was a plastic bag. Bette sighed. "Just add that to all the other amazing things about this place. Can I help you with something?"
Kerrie winced. She walked over to the desk, grabbed a plastic chair from the corner, and placed it in front of it. She motioned for Bette to take it while carefully sitting on the now backless desk chair seat. "I deserve the chilly attitude. Please have a seat."
Bette glared at her and the offered chair but took a seat anyway, perching on the end of it. She watched Kerrie pull out snacks and a few drinks. "Hungry?"
Kerrie chuckled and nodded. "I'm always extra hungry on what I like to call Odd Pasta Day. I never stay full on pasta for some reason."
"I saw that tray. It was... interesting," said Bette, remembering the plate she saw someone eating at lunch. It was like someone tossed every half-empty box of noodles of different types in a pot and added red sauce, along with a premade chicken sandwich patty and salad with two cherry tomatoes cut in half and a few shreds of carrots. Terrance and the others had laughed at it.
In fact, they'd made snide remarks about the cafeteria food a few times now. She had arrived early and dropped by the kitchen to see if Elaine had any coffee to top her thermos off. One of the guys offered her some of the leftover food, and since she had only grabbed a protein bar for breakfast, she gladly accepted a to-go plate with bacon, scrambled eggs, and a mandarin orange. She still had the orange in her bag. He had apologized for not having any hash browns left, but she had assured him she was thankful for the plate. At lunch, The Main counselors made fun of the lunch being served that day when they saw the front lobby desk guy walk by with his plate. Their holier-than-thou behavior reminded her of the movie Mean Girls. The guy, Dennis, most likely didn't make much money, and one of the perks of working there was free lunch. Why food-shame not only other staff but the clients it was being provided to? Bette didn't like their self-righteous attitude.
"What are you thinking? You left for a minute."
Bette shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "Just something that was said earlier at lunch." She shrugged, avoiding eye contact.
Kerrie paused, then said, "Let me guess. Someone made a snide remark about the lunches?"
Bette looked up quickly. Was she that transparent? "How did you know?"
Chuckling, Kerrie grinned, her warm brown eyes crinkling at the edges. "I don't know if you've noticed yet, but it's a little cliquey here. The Main is like the popular kids and turns up their noses at the rest of us. Not all of them, but the loud ones drown out the cool ones. The Tindle Street crew thinks they do things no one else does, even though we do the same thing here. They're mellow, though, so not bad. Then there's medical that pretty much lives on a completely different planet."
"And The Church?" asked Bette with a raised eyebrow.
Kerrie's smile turned mischievous. "The Church is like the island of misfits. The rejects. The upside of that is people leave us alone. The downside is that people leave us alone. You'll get used to it. Now, on to the really important thing."
Bette cocked her head to the side and waited for the counselor to go on.
Kerrie's infectious smile turned to a sincere look. Hard lines softened, becoming more youthful and taking a few years off her tired face. "I'm sorry I was such an ass the other day. I've been more than a little overwhelmed lately, and I took my frustration out on you. You didn't deserve that."
Bette opened her mouth, then shut it again. She hadn't expected Kerrie to be so upfront with her. To be humble and honest. "I, uh, well, thank you."
Nodding, Kerrie met Bette's gaze, and the intensity in them sent a shiver down Bette's spine. Kerrie didn't break eye contact as she spoke with a hint of raw emotion in her voice. "I'm not good at asking for help or taking it, for that matter. I promise I'll try to do better, but feel free to call me out if I'm an ass again. "
Brutal honesty wasn't something Bette was used to. She couldn't remember the last time someone apologized to her instead of just trying to smooth things over. Her ex-wife was the queen of unaccountability. She'd send a gift or distract her with something new. Never did she just say she was sorry. It had led to many fights both at work and at home. All Bette wanted was an apology. Even her own mother never apologized for her actions. Instead, she would gaslight Bette into being the bad guy. Kerrie was different. She was admitting she was human and would likely mess up again and even asked for Bette to help hold her accountable. Inviting Bette to express herself when she was wronged. What was this? Bette's heart raced a little faster as she swallowed down a lump. "I appreciate that. Really. It's refreshing to hear someone actually say they're sorry."
"Good, I'm serious, though. Call me out. I'm a big girl. I can handle it," teased Kerrie. "Now, along with my apology comes an apology treat. I didn't know if you were a chocolate woman or a savory woman, so I got both."
Bette stared down at the Hershey bar and the beef jerky and cheese stick combo pushed in front of her. The woman bought her treats. How utterly foreign. Laughter bubbled up from her chest as she shook her head. Her heart was touched by the words 'I'm sorry' and a candy bar from a convenience store. Shelly used to give her Prada sunglasses and expensive flower arrangements when she was in the wrong. It was absurd. She glanced up, heat tinging her cheeks. "You got me a treat?"
Kerrie grinned big, picking up a bag of spicy peanuts and ripping the corner open with her teeth. "It works for my brother, too. He loves a treat."
"Are you two close?" asked Bette as she joined Kerrie by picking up the chocolate bar. She tore off the wrapper and then pinched off a corner between two pale pink manicured fingers. She broke off a piece and placed it on her tongue before closing her eyes in delight at the sweet, chocolatey flavor. It had been years since she slowed down enough to just enjoy a bite of chocolate. She opened her eyes to find Kerrie staring at her lips. Looks like I'm not the only one to notice looks around here.
"Sweets gal it is," Kerrie observed approvingly, averting her eyes back to her peanuts. "To answer your question, we are really close. I take care of him."
Something chimed in the back of Bette's mind, and she remembered that morning's meeting. "Kenny? The one you mentioned this morning breaking his arm?"
Tilting her head slightly, she nodded. "You remembered. Yeah, Kenny is my twin. He's special needs and can't live alone. We've been best friends since birth. He helps me just as much, though. Keeps me on my toes and touching grass. "
Bette's stomach fluttered with admiration. The proud look on Kerrie's face was heartwarming. Maybe Kerrie wasn't so bad after all? "That's really sweet of you to care for him so much and not reduce him down to a burden like some would."
"Kenny isn't even close to a burden. It's a gift to call him my brother," exclaimed Kerrie with a large smile that Bette was quickly warming up to. "Now, how about we talk about this office? This is the one you want to take, correct?"
"Yeah, I like this one better. The other one felt like a closet."
Kerrie nodded, sipping her Sun Drop, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Yeah, it is pretty tiny."
"Do you know how I can get the chair replaced? I don't think I can work a full day balancing on that thing."
Chuckling, Kerrie looked down at the nub of a rolling chair she was sitting on. "Yeah, things don't really get replaced around here. You could take the chair in the other office—well, wait, we may have more choices. Hold on a sec."
She stood and left the office. Kerrie's footsteps echoed lightly down the hall, and then she was back with the silver key ring loaded with keys. "Come downstairs with me," she instructed.
Standing, Bette followed, pulling her door partially shut as she exited.
Bette had yet to be in the basement, and she wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the walls of random colors, gray-painted concrete floors, and a mix of different chairs weren't it. The ceiling was low, making the room feel compressed. She walked over to a spot where a makeshift coffee station was. "I thought they were only given one cup at breakfast? Coffee is expensive, according to Elaine, and she doesn't have the budget for more than that."
Kerrie smirked. "Yeah, the coffee thing is sorta a Church secret. We're small enough that we can get away with it. There's no way The Main could. They have too many clients. The clients pitch in, and I grab it for them when I'm out."
"Is that something I'll need to do?"
Kerrie paused, looking uncertain. "Uh, I mean, I don't mind doing it. It's not like it's on the list of things you're supposed to do."
Kerrie turned toward the short row of doors that presumably led to extra office space. Bette reached out, placing her hand on Kerrie's forearm, feeling heated skin underneath. Kerrie stopped, looking a little startled by the touch, and then relaxed her face. Bette pulled back. "Is this one of those things where you have a hard time asking for help? "
Kerrie's back stiffened, causing Bette to second-guess her words. She walked over to one of the doors, which was painted a dull orange, and began shifting the keys. "It's not that big of a deal," she said.
Bette rolled her eyes at Kerrie's back but repressed the snarky retort on the tip of her tongue. She'd have to learn how to talk to this woman, apparently.
With the correct key selected, Kerrie gave the door a little push. "You're more than welcome to anything in here."
Casting a cautious look Kerrie's way, Bette poked her head into the room, her body close enough to Kerrie that she could feel her body heat. The room was about the size of her office but had lots of office furniture stacked in it. "What is all this?"
"Just leftovers that they didn't have anywhere to put it. I'm sure maintenance doesn't even remember it's down here."
Bette stepped further into the room, spying an office chair in the corner wedged between some filing cabinets. "That's exactly what I need."
She tried to scoot the filing cabinet over to reach the chair, but it didn't budge. A large hand cupped her shoulder and gently tugged her back. "I got it. Longer arms."
The spot on Bette's shoulder where Kerrie touched her tingled pleasantly. She stepped back to allow Kerrie room. She easily plucked it up, bringing it to sit before her. "Give it a try."
Bette tentatively sat on the blue cushioned chair, still acutely aware of the one that fell apart on her upstairs. She leaned back cautiously, finding it sound, and bounced a little. She smiled up at Kerrie. "I think it's good."
"No, no, no, you didn't test it fully," declared Kerrie. Before Bette could register what she had said, Kerrie grabbed the back, turned her around, and took off, pushing her in circles.
"Ah!" Bette squealed, clutching the sides of the chair. She pulled her legs up as they raced through the door and around the basement. They were laughing loudly, Kerrie zigzagging her around until they turned and came face to face with a smirking Luke at the bottom of the basement steps. "Are you two having fun?"
Bette flushed and stood up, fussing with her hair, while Kerrie just raised an eyebrow at the young man. "Just redecorating."
"Uh-huh."
Kerrie stood straighter and pointed to the room. "Is there anything else you want from the room, Bette? "
"Let me look." Her face was hot, but she wasn't sure why. For some reason, she felt like they had been caught doing something naughty.
The room wasn't the most organized. It looked as if someone just tucked things wherever they could. Tables, chairs, filing cabinets, aged or broken lamps, and even a large fake tree. "Hmm, why do I like the tree?"
"You want the tree?" asked Kerrie from the door. She was leaning on the frame, and Luke leaned against the door.
"Yes, I like the tree. I want that."
Luke pushed himself off the door and walked over to pick it up. "I'll stick it in the office."
"Maybe this lamp. No, this one. Maybe both?"
"Lamps, I got it." Kerrie grabbed the large stand-up lamp with a white shade and the small desk lamp with gold trim that was flaking off in some spots.
She considered the things in her office currently. What would she need? Her desk was tiny. The monitor and keyboard hardly fit. She had enough filing cabinets for the moment, and there was some built-in shelving along the wall with the window.
Something bright caught her attention on the back wall. She moved a chair and wedged herself into the stacks of furniture to get a better look. It was a painted canvas with the loveliest mountain scene: a peaceful grove in front of snow-capped mountains with a mix of colorful pink, blue, and orange rays of sunshine. It was gorgeous, and Bette wanted it.