“Are the cops chasing you? A rabid pack of dogs?” Flick asked, wrapping her hands around her cup.
Tally smiled. “Nah, I just love to run.”
“So early in the morning?” Flick gestured her inside. “You should still be asleep.”
“Sleep and I aren’t friends,” Tally said as Flick closed the door behind her. “Besides, running raises your endorphins and jumpstarts your blood. You should try it.”
Flick mock frowned at her. “Have you been talking to Kai? He’s also a fitness freak runner, addicted to exercise. I’m more of an ‘eat a cupcake and read a book’ kind of girl.” She lifted her cup.
“Would you like a cup? Or a muffin? On the house,” she added quickly, suspecting that the kid had more pride than she knew what to do with.
Tally thought for a moment and Flick wanted to shake her. It was a muffin and a coffee, not the access codes to a Swiss bank account.
“Water? And a muffin, please.”
Flick nodded briskly, hiding her smile. “Take a seat. I have muffins cooling on a tray in the back. Double chocolate work for you?”
Tally’s eyes widened. “For breakfast?”
Oh, Lord, these fitness freaks. If you couldn’t have a double chocolate muffin for breakfast now and again, what was the point of living? “How many miles did you just run?” Flick asked.
“Five.”
“And you weigh, what? A hundred pounds?”
“Something like that.”
“Eat the damn muffin,” Flick told her. Tally grinned, nodded, and when she returned with two muffins on a plate, Tally immediately grabbed one, ignoring the glass of water Flick placed in front of her. There was hope for the child—chocolate trumped thirst, every time.
Flick sat down opposite her and reached for her cup of coffee. She looked at Tally, noting her red-rimmed eyes and the droopy corners of her mouth. So she wasn’t the only one who’d had a massive crying jag last night. “Are you okay, honey?” she asked softly. When Tally’s head shot up, Flick smiled sympathetically. “I know about loss, Tally. I know how terrible you can feel.”
Tally pulled a piece off her muffin and slowly popped it into her mouth. She looked past Flick to the street behind her, and her eyes looked bleak. “Kai thinks that I should stay in Mercy for a while, find a job, and hang out here until things settle down. Until I get my bearings.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
Tally put her muffin down and reached for her water glass. After swallowing half the contents, she held the glass against her chest. “I have no freaking idea. A part of me thinks it might work, the other part of me wants to run.”
“To where?”
Tally took a long time to answer. “I want to go to a place where I don’t feel like my insides are being scraped out with a rusty spoon.”
Oh, honey. Flick wanted to scoot around the table, pull the child into her arms—and Lord, she still was a child—and soothe the pain away. Except that she couldn’t, she knew this. “The problem is that wherever you go, that’s where you’ll be; accompanied by your memories and your pain and your regrets and everything that makes you you.”
Tally blew air into her cheeks. “I kind of know that too.” She tapped her finger against the glass. “Intellectually I know I’ll get through this, I know it will get better. I know that one day I’ll be able to remember my mom without sobbing, and I know that the anger over her death will fade. I know it up here.” She tapped her head. “But it still fucking sucks.”
Flick didn’t react to her swearing. Hell, the kid had had her world explode, she was entitled to a fuck or two. Flick pushed the muffins toward her. “It does and it will get better. But in the meantime, there’s chocolate. And running. And there’s a town here that’ll help you find your feet.”
“If I can find a job. And somewhere to live.” Tally placed an index finger on a crumb and lifted it to her mouth.
There wasn’t much work in Mercy but Flick was sure she could find her a job doing something. She’d employ her as a waitress, but that might just be the straw that would snap Pippa’s back.
“We’ll find you something. In the meantime, my baker Mo is looking for someone to do some babysitting. “
“How old is his kid?”
“It's his grandkid, and Mel is about five, six? She’s a sweetie.”
Tally looked uncomfortable. “I don’t mean to sound picky but if I could find something where I don’t have to deal with people, then that would be great.”