"Lindsey! Wake up!"

I groaned, burying my head under a pillow. My head was still fuzzy from the grog of sleep and it was only Caro's insistent voice keeping me awake.

"Lindsey! Wake up! What happened last night? Tell me!"

"Caro, seriously," I groaned, attempting to burrow into my sheets. "Seeing as I've uprooted my entire life, I did hope that at least for today I could sleep in!"

Caro huffed impatiently. She was a natural morning person; sleeping in was never something she could comprehend. I was a night owl masquerading as a morning person, which meant that usually, I forced myself to get up early. But after the strangeness of the previous day, I felt I deserved a break.

"Please tell me you had an early walk of shame home and that's why you're tired!" Caro begged, sitting on my waist.

"No, I did not sleep with him," I groused. "Could you get off of me? You're crushing my spine."

"Did you at least get his number?" Caro persisted.

"We both agreed that we weren't in a position to date," I said, my voice muffled into the sheets. "Now get OFF of me!"

Caro sighed dramatically and clambered off. Grumbling to myself, I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. My mood improved slightly when Caro handed me a steaming hot cup of tea.

"Do you love me again?" She winked.

"Yes," I sighed, letting the flavor caress my tongue. "But you're officially fired from alarm clock duty."

For the next few weeks, I tried to keep my mind away from the electrifying kiss. I spent my days furniture shopping and running errands, trying to smooth my abrupt departure. I involved myself in the music and writing scene, haunting about cafes during Open Mic nights, listening for the next great writer. I spent at least three hours on the phone with my mother, explaining my decision to move. She was less than supportive—I couldn't blame her for it. An impulsive, reckless decision from a generally cautious and wary daughter was sure to create concern. In any case, the longer I spent cementing my stay here, the more positive I became about its outcome.

St. Louis had a metro system, but it was becoming apparent that I really needed a new car. The walks had been invigorating for the most part, but every day was becoming more of a challenge, especially in heels. At the end of the week, I was glad to take my chai latte and cinnamon bun to the park and rest my aching feet.

I chose a spot that overlooked a playground, presumably attached to a school. Sipping my drink, I watched the school let out. Parents came and picked up their children but a fair few headed straight for the playground, shouting and squealing to their heart's content.

An hour passed, and the children slowly came and went, parents filtering in to pick them up. Soon, there was one little girl left, playing by herself on the swings, still apparently waiting for her parent.

I hadn't meant to stay for that long, but the playground was growing increasingly more empty and I didn't like the idea of leaving her alone. So I waited, checking my watch, as the little girl continued to swing by herself. She was a pretty little thing, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. After another half hour passed, I decided to act.

I walked over to her, throwing away my paper cup. I took a swing next to her.

"Do you know when your mom or dad is supposed to get here?" I asked gently. "Do you want to use my cell phone to call one of them?"

"My dad's working," The little girl informed me, never ceasing her swinging. "And it's not his day, it's my mom's. She probably forgot again. She forgets a lot."

"I see," I said, not liking the resignation in the little girl's tone. "Do you want to use my phone to call her, then?"

The girl considered carefully. "I don't remember her number," She said finally. I was liking this turn of events less and less. "Can you call your dad?"

She shook her head firmly. "I think he's at work and it's not his day. My mom gets mad when he picks me up on her day and then they fight and it's loud." She squinted.

I licked my lips. "Still," I said nervously. "Your dad wouldn't like you to be out here alone. I think you should call him."

"I don't know his number either," She replied honestly. She sniffled a little bit, glancing anxiously down the street.

I was in something of a bind. On the one hand, I wanted desperately to see if I could take her home. On the other hand, I did not want to teach her that it was all right to trust any stranger who offered her a ride. But I was running low on options, and now I was invested.

"Do you know your way home?" I sighed finally.

"Yes," She reported. "But I don't want to go home."

"Aren't you tired of playing by yourself?" I asked gently.

She shrugged. "I don't like going home," She said firmly. "I don't like Kevin."

I frowned. "Who's Kevin?"

"Kevin's my mom's boyfriend," The little girl informed me. "I don't like him. He smokes gross cigarettes with my mom and he stares at me funny."

I stilled. "He stares at you funny?"

"Yes," She replied, staring at her shoes. She didn't elaborate but she didn't have to. I licked my lips nervously.

"Well, look," I said finally. "How about I walk you to your dad's house? Do you know how to get there?"

She nodded eagerly brightening at the mention of her father. "Yes!"

I handed her my iPhone, punching in a few numbers. "You should never, ever talk to strangers," I warned. "Or let them give you rides home or anything. So you hold onto my phone, and if you think I'm going to hurt you or take you away, you press the call button, and my phone will dial 911. Deal?"

The little girl smiled at me, looking as though I amused her. "Deal."

It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was better than leaving her alone at the playground, hoping her mom would pick her up eventually. She slipped on her pink backpack, carefully holding my phone like a crown jewel. To my surprise, she slipped her other hand into mine, smiling at me trustingly.

"My name is Lindsey," I introduced, squeezing her little palm.

"I'm Jenny," She grinned at me. Jenny had an adorable smile, a little gap-toothed from loose teeth.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Jenny," I told her. "I'm sorry your mom wasn't able to pick you up."

Jenny shrugged. "She forgets a lot, but I won't be at her house that long. Daddy usually has me most days."

"Well, I'm sure he won't mind you coming home a little early," I said hopefully. "But you know, honey, if your mom's boyfriend makes you feel uncomfortable, you ought to tell your daddy." We crossed another street, being sure to watch out for cars. Jenny pointed out a bakery she liked before finally answering.

She shook her head fiercely. "He'd get really mad," She said confidentl as we turned a corner.

"Don't you think that might be a good thing?" I suggested to her. We stopped at an intersection and I pressed the walk button.

She shook her head again. "I don't like it when he and my mom fight," She furrowed her brow. "He told her once that she does a bad job taking care of me when I'm with her and she told him that the court would side with her cuz she's a woman and he'd never see me again. I don't want her to take me away from my daddy."

Logically, I knew I was getting far too invested in this girl's family problems. But the sadness and foreign maturity in her eyes bothered me.

"My daddy and my apartment is up there!" Jenny cheered. We'd stopped in front of a gray brick building. It certainly wasn't the one of the nicer apartments, but it had a rustic, almost vintage feel to it.

She'd said her dad was working, but it couldn't hurt to ask. "Is your dad home?"

"Nope," Jenny said matter-of-factly. "But I'll go up anyway. I have a key in my backpack. I'll just wait for him to come home!"

Of my options, letting the seven-year-old wait alone in her father's apartment was not one of the best ones. But then again, it had to be better than letting her walk to her mother's home with the creepy boyfriend. I sighed in resignation.

"Well, now that you're home safe and sound, do I have your permission to have my iPhone back?" I asked her formally.

She giggled. "Yes!" She dutifully handed it over. "Thanks for walking me home, Lindsey. You're really nice."

I smiled. "It was no trouble at all. I really wish you would talk to your dad, though. I think he'd want to know about your mom and her boyfriend."

"Maybe," Jenny said doubtfully. I looked at her worriedly.

"Okay," I said finally, pulling out a business card from my purse. "If your mom's boyfriend ever makes you feel uncomfortable or in danger, I want you to call this number." I scrawled 911 across the back in a black sharpie.

Jenny took the card, examining it carefully. "Is your number on this too?" She asked.

"Yes," I replied. "But 911 is the number that you should call, Jenny. They can help you. Promise me."

"I promise," Jenny said solemnly. To my surprise, she hugged me, wrapping her little arms around my waist and holding on fiercely. It reminded me of how Jamie used to hug me and my heart lurched.

With one more wave, Jenny walked into her apartment building. A bit bemused, I glanced at my watch, and started towards home.

Caro's eyes were wide with interest as I related the story of the little girl. "I wish I would've been there," She remarked. "I would've insisted on waiting for the dad and telling him straight up what was going on."

I winced. Caro was always better at this sort of thing than I was. "I probably should've done that," I said regretfully. "But I didn't think about it. I don't want her to think that you should always trust strangers."

"Good point," Caro acknowledged. "I'm sure she'll be all right."

"I hope so," I sighed. "I know I'm going to worry about it later." Caro smiled sympathetically and poured me another glass of wine.

"So what else has happened this week?" Caro asked. "Everything squared away?"

"Mostly," I replied. "The rest of my things will arrive any day now, I've got some good leads on some independent editing projects—and I feel…good."

"Good?" Caro arched an eyebrow.

"Good," I confirmed, taking a sip of my glass. "Better than I have in ages. I feel like I have a grasp on my life again. I'm not constantly trying to avoid thinking about Lucas. I'm not burying myself in work. I'm not crying in my sleep…I feel good."

Caro looked at me skeptically. "I'd believe you more if you'd just go out and get laid."

I laughed. "I don't need a guy to make me happy, Caro," I said firmly.

"Well, that's not what I'm saying at all," She huffed. "But point taken. I believe you."