Post by Disgraced on Oct 5, 2022 16:23:36 GMT
Once again, Grace pushed open the door to Hellcat Gym. She'd been coming there fairly often, lately, although she still hadn't done anything that really qualified as exercise. She was there for one reason, and getting fit wasn't it. As usual when she arrived, she held a carry tray with two takeaway cups of coffee, one for herself, one for someone else.
The man at the front desk looked up, as he always did when she arrived. He looked intimidating - actually, Grace found him quite intimidating, for a variety of reasons - but the look wasn't unkind. It never was, really.
"Carmen's not here." His voice was gruff, the sort of gruff she knew was hiding something beneath itself. She knew, and understood, and didn't comment on it. They both knew where Carmen was - where she had gone, and what she had gone to do.
"I know. This one's for you." She set it on the desk, nothing special - black Americano, brewed strong, with just a little bit of sugar he'd never admit that he liked, but Carmen wasn't good at keeping secrets. "Do you mind if I just... hang out here, for a while?"
Carmen had promised to call Grace when it was over, and it wasn't that Grace thought Carmen would break the promise - far from it. But there was another situation to consider, one she hadn't brought up the last time they'd talked. Grace might have been her maybe-kinda-girlfriend-I-guess for a little while, and that probably warranted a call from Carmen herself, but if it was the hospital calling, they'd call Carmen's next-of-kin.
The hospital, or the morgue.
He didn't need her to spell it out. A single-word "Sure." was enough, and a nod to an extra chair as he reached for the coffee she'd brought in offering.
Grace took the chair and took a slow sip of her own drink - not her usual 'how many multiples can I get away with right now'-espresso, but half-coffee and half milk, mixed with a couple spoonfuls of the cheapest sort of grocery-store brand chocolate powder on the shelf. It tasted like being nine years old and exhausted because the baby had been crying all night, but the school bus was coming in twenty minutes and the lunches had to get made and so did the breakfasts, and there wasn't enough bread for everyone to have two pieces of toast if lunch was sandwiches, and no one besides her was dressed and there were Cheerios on the floor and she knew she'd be in trouble if she didn't clean them up before she left.
Like worry, and exhaustion, and problems too big for yourself, and finding a way to keep going. It wasn't a good feeling, but it was the right one right now. She sighed, and bowed her head over the cup. It wasn't a prayer, because she knew better - but it was a hope, and maybe a wish. For things to work out, for the phone call to be the right one, for Carmen to make it through whatever was happening, whatever it took. For her to come back, if she wanted to, or at least know that there was a place she could come back to. For her to get through whatever it was that she was facing, no matter what direction she chose to go in when she was done, as long as she kept going.
Just... find a way to keep going.
The man at the front desk looked up, as he always did when she arrived. He looked intimidating - actually, Grace found him quite intimidating, for a variety of reasons - but the look wasn't unkind. It never was, really.
"Carmen's not here." His voice was gruff, the sort of gruff she knew was hiding something beneath itself. She knew, and understood, and didn't comment on it. They both knew where Carmen was - where she had gone, and what she had gone to do.
"I know. This one's for you." She set it on the desk, nothing special - black Americano, brewed strong, with just a little bit of sugar he'd never admit that he liked, but Carmen wasn't good at keeping secrets. "Do you mind if I just... hang out here, for a while?"
Carmen had promised to call Grace when it was over, and it wasn't that Grace thought Carmen would break the promise - far from it. But there was another situation to consider, one she hadn't brought up the last time they'd talked. Grace might have been her maybe-kinda-girlfriend-I-guess for a little while, and that probably warranted a call from Carmen herself, but if it was the hospital calling, they'd call Carmen's next-of-kin.
The hospital, or the morgue.
He didn't need her to spell it out. A single-word "Sure." was enough, and a nod to an extra chair as he reached for the coffee she'd brought in offering.
Grace took the chair and took a slow sip of her own drink - not her usual 'how many multiples can I get away with right now'-espresso, but half-coffee and half milk, mixed with a couple spoonfuls of the cheapest sort of grocery-store brand chocolate powder on the shelf. It tasted like being nine years old and exhausted because the baby had been crying all night, but the school bus was coming in twenty minutes and the lunches had to get made and so did the breakfasts, and there wasn't enough bread for everyone to have two pieces of toast if lunch was sandwiches, and no one besides her was dressed and there were Cheerios on the floor and she knew she'd be in trouble if she didn't clean them up before she left.
Like worry, and exhaustion, and problems too big for yourself, and finding a way to keep going. It wasn't a good feeling, but it was the right one right now. She sighed, and bowed her head over the cup. It wasn't a prayer, because she knew better - but it was a hope, and maybe a wish. For things to work out, for the phone call to be the right one, for Carmen to make it through whatever was happening, whatever it took. For her to come back, if she wanted to, or at least know that there was a place she could come back to. For her to get through whatever it was that she was facing, no matter what direction she chose to go in when she was done, as long as she kept going.
Just... find a way to keep going.