Embry's POV
I hadn't realize I fell asleep till a loud knock lands down hard against the windshield. I jolt awake, already falling back asleep, but another knock against the driver's side feels like it's banging against my head.
"I'm up, I'm up, I'm up." I groan, sitting up. When I see Winnie standing outside my car in the mouth of Old Lady Enola's driveway, I'm not sure if I'm still dreaming or not. She's not in her usual uniform, instead wearing gray cotton pajamas, slippers with a hoodie thrown on to keep the light trickle of rain off her.
"Mhm, mornin'," I yawn, lowering the window, smelling in the damp earth.
"Hey Embry," That was the crappiest Hey I've ever had my way, all low with question. "What are you doing here?" Winnie asks, her arms crossed paired with that worried look on her face.
"I'm here to take you to work." I explain, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. When I first pulled up to pick up Winnie, the sky was still dark but now I have to blink at how the lightened the cloudy gray sky is now. Shit, I hope I didn't sleep so long she's late. "You're not ready yet?"
"It's my day off. I don't work on Thursdays." Winnie explains, looking sorry.
"Oh," I blink. "Oh shit, sorry. I, ugh, wasn't sure if you needed a ride. I'm gonna head home then, sorry again." I say, putting the van in reverse.
"Embry," Winnie stops me before I pull out. Her hand bolting to sit between us at my window. "Embry wait. You came all the way out here."
"Don't sweat it. I don't live that far. Whole small town thing." I shrug.
"No, Embry. You don't have to take me work anymore."
"Your car is in the shop."
"And I'll get around, don't worry. You don't have to keep driving me around. You've already done so much in the last few days. I'll figure it out, so please, you don't have to—"
"I want to." I interject. Winnie's mouth clamps shut, her lips pressing into a firm line. Just as a pink hue starts to dust over her cheeks, she ducks away.
"You're already here. Why don't you come in for a few minutes? I'll feel better if you drink some coffee before you go home." Winnie offers, but I can't tell if she really wants me to come in or if she's just being nice. She doesn't have to repay me, or make us even, or make it up to me or whatever. The idea that she thinks she does doesn't sit well with me.
"Come on, Embry, you fell asleep in your car. Please let me give you some coffee. I'll serve it just like you take it at the diner." Winnie convinces me, looking relieved when I park the van. We don't say much during the walk up to Old Lady's Enola's house. The only sound being the sound of our shoes crunching against the gravel.
"It's out back," Winnie comments, leading me towards the back yard. The closer we get to her place, the tenser her boney shoulders set. "It's not much."
I want to ask about why she moved in with Old Lady Enola. I remember Winnie use to live at her aunt's house across the res most of her life. I only remember because growing up, Winnie's aunt was known as the hottest parent/guardian. I know she hated how most of the boys in our grade had a huge crush on her young aunt, it made her miserable when her aunt picked her up from school. Though, I'm fully aware that Winnie isn't an open book. She keeps to herself, doesn't say much, doesn't like to stick out, and absolutely doesn't open up much. So I don't ask, and I can tell how much she appreciates me not asking from the way she loosens her crossed arms.
At first, I swore it was an old out house from the original farm house. Then, I confused it for a rundown shed. No, it's a cabin. A narrow, tight cabin that looks older than Enola's house out front. It's pushed back into the woods, right where the neat lawn starts to shift into the overgrown tree line.
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