|inkonstage (inkonstage) wrote in repose,|
@ 2020-02-12 22:47:00
|Entry tags:||*log, holly nicodemo-webster, marta flores|
Log: Gym-to-be, Marta and Holly
Who: Marta and Holly
What: Delivering some food
Where: The as-yet unopened gym
Warnings/Rating: None to start, at least
Days were still hard for Marta, but they were easier than the nights, and the both of them were getting better. Slowly, but there was at least the glimmer of hope ahead. And maybe it was the combination of talking with Holly and sitting with Derek that made that hope shine at least a little brighter. Well. That and the consistent appointments with her doctor and the still-frequent group meetings that she'd dedicated herself to attending. She knew that she was still vulnerable in a way she hated - the feeling of walking a tightrope with no net and buffeted by harsh winds - but progress, the baby steps she so often mentioned, was something she could feel and cling to.
She didn't think too hard on it most of the time, as she'd found it easier to go through her day steadily, one step at a time, and even more cliches that she had to roll her eyes at, but that continually proved themselves to be true. And something else that was proving to be true was feeling better by focusing on someone else. It made her current mission almost enjoyable: retrieving food for Holly and delivering it to the soon-to-be gym. So maybe she went a little overboard, especially since Derek hadn't been kidding about increasing her pay now that they weren't working through the work-release program. It always seemed like too much to her, and extra cash in her pocket could quickly become dangerous. She'd started spending more of it on clothes and things for the chinchillas, but buying things for someone else was proving to be satisfying in a different sort of way.
So after work on one of her shorter days, she walked up to the former speakeasy bundled against the cold she always feel so keenly, and pulled carefully on the handle of the front door. It took a moment with the two fabric tote bags looped in the crooks of her elbows, but she managed to do it without battering the contents too badly.
She looked around at the space, smiling a little. It was bright and warm, and looked like it should be welcoming to any number of people. She'd never been in the speakeasy when it was open, but the sight around her wasn't what she'd expected from Holly's so-brief description of it.