Page 29 of Quake

That’s the only thought that made me get on that app and find someone who could come by.

The woman, Lucia, was really nice, willing to work on a weekend as long as she could bring her daughter since she couldn’t afford a sitter. She primarily spoke Spanish, so that’s how I conversed with her, not wanting to force her to communicate in broken English when I could speak to her in her native tongue. Her daughter sat on my couch, watching a children’s movie about a special family who each had some form of power, like the daughter who was extremely strong, the other who was beautiful with the voice of an angel, and then the youngest daughter who seemingly had no gift at all. After she left, I sat on the couch with Pickles and watched the movie by myself.

I won’t lie. The music was good, and the message was sweet.

Lucia told me all about how she immigrated to the US two years ago and all the people who’ve shown her kindness along the way. She doesn’t know me, doesn’t know that I have demons fighting to make their way into my every thought, and yet, she was kind to me. She treated me like a normal person and never once made me feel like the sad sack that I’ve become, nor did she make me feel bad about my disgusting apartment.

She just cleaned and spoke to me.

I can’t imagine how difficult it was for her to make that move, especially with how downright horrible people can be to thosewho are different from them. She’s strong. I hope to find just an ounce of her strength to carry me through as I continue to grieve.

Lucia said she’ll return each week to clean for me to ensure I have a safe space to be myself.

I felt something pull at my heartstrings when she offered, and I can’t say I’m not excited to speak to her again.She reminded me a bit of my mom.I don’t have my own memories of her, but from the home videos I’ve watched countless times, she was kind and strong. A force to be reckoned with.

Once my breathing has calmed some, I crack my eyes open, blinking several times to adjust to the still-dark room. The blackout curtains give nothing away.

Peering over to my nightstand, 10:31 stares back at me in red.

I groan, planting a kiss to the side of Pickles’s head. “Good morning, pretty girl. You ready for a walk?”

She stands abruptly, trampling over me with a punch to the gut before jumping out of the bed. She does a full-body wiggle of excitement as she paces the floor, waiting for me.

I roll out of bed, settling my feet on the gray carpet. It feels a lot softer after Lucia came to clean, and my heart squeezes again.

“Alright, get up,” I urge myself as I push up and make my way to the bathroom.

***

Unleashing Pickles after our walk, I pad across the vinyl floors, heading for the coffee machine.

Once the machine is cued up, I wait, scrolling through the myriad of missed messages, skipping over all but two.

Kassian Narvaez

Hey man, I won’t be able to bring Pickles to class next weekend if you can’t make it. I’ve got an away game.

Kassian Narvaez

Oh, and the redhead? She’s newly single, according to my sister. Just giving you a heads up.

She’s single.

Oh hell. Cupping the back of my neck, I cuss under my breath. The only thing keeping me away from that woman right now is Kas’s ability to take Pickles to her classesandher boyfriend.

Now I have neither.

Thanks for letting me know.

Kassian Narvaez

Anytime.

I flip to the next message.

Kat

Lark is single, but don’t make a move just yet. It’s not my business and I have no interest in breaking her trust, but I just wanted you to know so you don’t make any mistakes. Her boyfriend cheated on her, so give her some time.