Shay Ryder settled down on the sofa of her home on Bank Street in West Village and relaxed. The day had gone very well; the three new volunteers, Merritt, Hannah, and Devon, had been amazing workers.
Kent Marlon had, with their help, done all the work in a day he thought would take three. Then, they had dove right in to cleaning up after the sheetrock crew.
Shay had been able to talk to them, too. They seemed very nice. Interesting.
She looked around at her surroundings. Her father had bought the first place he could find for her to live in; a 4 bedroom, 5 bath, three story townhome in West Village, part of Greenwich Village. Fully furnished, of course.
Since moving in, she had used the living room, kitchen, 1 bedroom and one bathroom.
Since leaving Orlando, more and more Shay had thought forsaking life as a nomadic loner was a good decision. As she sat there in her luxury home, all alone once again, she decided it was time to make another step toward being social.
Funny, she thought, that growing up as part of society had left her feeling so socially awkward. She liked people. She just never felt like she knew how to interact with them. But, she decided she had nothing to lose. She decided she’d call the girl in the morning and see if she and her friends would like to come out for the afternoon and dinner.
She convinced herself that they would be open to it; afterall, everyone eats dinner.
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