Page 19 of Whispers and Wishes (Untouchable 4)

“Are you feeling guilty because you’re not working this week?” Marsha had been clear that she needed to take as much time as necessary. I’d gone in and spoken to her myself. I hadn’t wanted to tell her over the phone, and I didn’t want Frankie to have to deal with it. When Frankie called her on Tuesday, Marsha hadn’t told her I’d clued her in. She’d just told Frankie to take a couple of weeks and to call her when she was ready to go back to work.

“I’m feeling guilty for a lot of stuff.” She sucked at her bottom lip, then winced. The cut there was better, but it kept getting irritated because she’d gnaw at it. The stitches in her cheek were dissolvable, or so they’d said, and they seemed better, even if the bruise still managed to look bad.

“You know you don’t have anything to feel guilty for, right?” That was important.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Archie paid my rent. I know he paid to have the locks changed. Jeremy is doing my laundry. You guys are taking care of the cats and the apartment. All of you have shopped, and your moms sent food.”

Okay. I got it. “You feel like you’re taking advantage?”

“I kind of am.”

“No,” I informed her, opening up the app on my phone and checking to see how busy it was. It was a little before lunchtime, which could be good. I hadn’t worked during the day during the week, so this would be different. “You’re not.”

“Coop…”

I backed the car out and shook my head. “Frankie, you can make up all the lists you want. No one feels an ounce of pressure to do what we’re doing. First, you’re the last one to demand this. You tend to try and do everything yourself. Second, wewantto do this. You look after us, we look after you.” Then thinking about it, I added, “We look after each other, too.”

“Like when Archie was in the hospital.” She grimaced and the guilt thickened in her voice.

“Yeah,” I said, reaching over to cover her left hand with mine. “Like then. Like when Jake and Bubba were trying out for football. Or when we got drunk for the first time.”

That pulled a laugh out of her. “Oh my god, I don’t want to think about that.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty,” I admitted in a sad, sad tone

“No,” she agreed. “It was not. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much puke in my life.”

“And yet, you still kiss us.” Her groan was worth the disgusting tease. “But that’s my point, we help each other. We take care of each other. So don’t feel guilty, okay?”

She sighed, then squeezed my hand. A bell sounded on the phone, and I hit accept on whatever order I got and then the phone gave me directions to the restaurant.

“That’s it?” Curiosity filtered through the guilt and lightened her tone.

“Yep, not sexy, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I just log on and when orders are available, it offers them, I take it and then follow the directions. It’s pretty simple. Mostly driving and waiting.”

“Huh.”

“Feeling envious about my way cooler job?”

Her snort lifted my spirits. “You don’t have to wear a uniform.”

“That is definitely a plus,” I admitted.

“And you don’t have customers running you everywhere. Well, I guess you do but…”

“But mostly one at a time.” As though to make me a liar, the app offered me a second delivery from the same place. It also gave a bonus for that, so hell yes, I clicked on it. “Except I’ll get two from this place then we deliver them both, and I’ll pick up whatever comes next.”

“Huh.”

The grunt made me curious, but she didn’t add to it. Instead, she curled her legs up to sit cross-legged in the seat. There were flipflops in the well, but she was in shorts—my old boxers, and yes, I definitely appreciated that she wore those for sleep shorts—a t-shirt and an unzipped hoodie. I cranked the A/C up in the car because the sun shining in made it hotter in there.

Her hair was still braided from the day before. The sunglasses hid her eyes though, and I kept glancing over at her.

“I’m okay, Coop,” she promised. “I’m just thinking.”

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