Page 220 of Unexpected Heroine

And holy biscuits and gravy. Will someone give Snuffleupagus over there a tissue already? Heh. Sniffleupagus is a better name for her.

Oh shit.

The velvety voice lady is looking at me, her brows raised like she’s awaiting an answer.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my legs, looking around. Anyone care to throw me a bone?

“It’s okay,” Tina whispers, nudging me with her shoulder.

“Um.”

The therapist smiles warmly, waiting as patiently as an oak.

You know what? Fuck it. I’ll be honest. Not gonna lie or bullshit my way through therapy. Even group therapy.

“Truth time. I don’t know what the question was. I was having trouble focusing. What were you asking?”

The kind lady’s smile stays just as warm as it was, releasing a smidgen of my guilt. “Lettie, I asked if you wanted to share.”

“Like what? A joke or something? A secret? What are we talkin’ about here?”

That’s it, Lettie. When in doubt, go for comedy.

“Well, everyone else here has been in at least one other group session. Since this is your first time, we’d love to get to know you a little. Anything you want to share. Doesn’t have to be heavy stuff.”

“Do I stand or . . .?”

“Whatever you like.”

When my gaze sweeps across the room, some women are craning their necks to see me. So I stand to save them a trip to the chiropractor.

And cue the rambling.

“Well, I’m Violet Holt, but I go by Lettie. I’m twenty-five years old. I moved to Florida a little more than a year ago. I’m from a small town in Georgia named Climax, which I didn’t know was odd until I was in my late teens and learned what that word means to the rest of the world. Why yes, I did have a sexually repressed childhood thanks to religious trauma. Good guess.” I laugh awkwardly, adding a half-arm wave in accordance with the chapter in the Lettie Holt Life Manual covering weird non-verbal movements.

Chuckles echo around the room.

“Let’s see. I love to sing. I love my friends. I love animals, except reptiles. And I love...” Biting my tongue, I stop myself from saying my boyfriend, but I’m determined to finish the sentence. “Nuts. I love nuts.” I raise the bag of mixed nuts, shaking it eagerly and getting another laugh.

With cheeks on fire, I slink into my seat, wishing it could swallow me whole. Some of the women clap. Others tilt their heads at me in a silent greeting.

The therapist leading the session—I should really get her name—continues smiling at me, then adds, “If you’d indulge me, can you tell us one thing that you want to get out of your stay with us here?”

And there’s the spot. I’ve been put squarely on it.

I don’t have to think about my answer. It just sails out of my mouth, unfiltered and honest to the core. “I want to learn to trust again.”

Chapter 39

Steam

TOMER

Popping my head out of the shower, I squint at the screen of my cell to check the caller ID. It’s not Lettie, so my instinct is to return to the water and ignore it. However, I immediately shake that off since the call is more than likely about my sugar bear.

I tap the auto reply on the lock screen to decline Amber Langley’s call while sending a text message to her, letting her know I’ll return her call momentarily.

Correction. Amber Amos. I keep forgetting she uses her married name these days.

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