“You alive in there?” Sofie asked one day when I finally agreed to grab coffee with her. She held out two cups without lids, so the steam rises, for dramatic effect.
“I’m trying,” I said, sinking into the cheap plastic café chair. “Maybe I’ll become a person again.”
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“Or maybe a woman,” she winked.
We laughed that day, though we both knew it wasn’t a victory. But it was something. A start.
The very next morning, I stood next to my car in a robe thrown over my jeans, hair a tangled mess.
“Come on. Come on, sweetheart… We had a deal just two days ago. Don’t do this. Not today…”
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The car wheezed, teased me twice with a false start, and then went dead. Kevin, sitting in the backseat in his hoodie, crushed his toy dinosaur between tiny fists. I just wanted to get to work. Just once without chaos.
“Car trouble?” came a voice from behind.
