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The bundle she took out was fit-in-the-palm size, a red bandana loosely wrapped around something that didn’t weigh much.
She told herself to just throw it away. And not under her desk. She needed to go to the dumpster behind the staff entrance. Or maybe head a couple of blocks down to an alley—
The bandana unwrapped itself.
And inside… a pair of baby blues.
THIRTEEN
SOMETIMES ALL YOUcould do for someone was just be with them. Yes, you wanted to do some heavy lifting with your conversation, make sweeping declarations that framed suffering in a way that made it more bearable. Or maybe you wanted to try a little A-level distraction by telling hot gossip or reliving shared memories. Dumb memes. Recipes.
Sports.
As Lydia sat next to C.P. Phalen’s cumulous cloud of a bed, she was drawing blanks on everything. The inspirational stuff. The pseudo-psychology. Definitely the gossip, because she had none, because she knew nobody. She also was never on the Internet and she didn’t cook, and sportsball season started when?
And as for any in-common things? Professionally, there was no crossover between the pair of them anymore. Back during the Wolf Study Project era, C.P. Phalen had been the chair of the board,and Lydia, as a biologist specializing in wolf populations, had had some contact with the woman. But the nonprofit had shut down months ago.
Which was what had to happen after the executive director and the head vet died in the process of playing on the dark side of science and money.
On the personal level? Given everything that was going on for C.P., who needed to talk about Daniel’s latest bad-news PET scan.
“Thank you,” C.P. murmured.
Lydia jerked to attention. “For what?”
“Just being here.”
“I’ve been feeling useless about so much. But the idea I could be any kind of comfort to you helps me.”
“Silence can be therapeutic. When you’re in good company.” C.P. shrugged awkwardly. Then pulled the fleece into her lap, up to her nose. “I tell myself I can still smell him. I wish I had your nose.”
As she stroked the navy blue folds, Lydia murmured, “How long have you been in love with him.”
“Since the moment I met him, if I’m honest with myself. Naturally, I fought it as long as I could… because I was scared of what I felt.” A lopsided smile flared and disappeared. “I like control, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Lydia laughed a little, and motioned around the white room. “I mean, this chaotic color, these patterns. And it’s all over the house, too.”
“That’s me. The chintz queen.” C.P. grewserious and then tapped her temple. “He was smart, though. Well, I suppose Gus’s IQ speaks for itself. But he didn’t want me. He knew…”
“Did you tell him how you felt?”
“In a roundabout way. He kept things professional when I would have taken them in a different direction. He was too good for me—”
“Don’t say that.”
“Oh, but it’s true. Just because reality hurts, doesn’t mean you should ignore it. In fact, self-preservation is often unpleasant, and when you don’t have a lot of time, like I do, you can’t afford to waste a moment in delusion.”
Lydia wanted to say something along the lines of “We’ll find him,” but she kept that to herself. Gus’s body was what was going to turn up, if anything did, and who needed to be reminded of that?
“Anyway…” C.P. yawned in what seemed like an exaggerated way. “I think your man might have the right idea. It’s late.”
Indeed, Daniel had excused himself an hour ago. Or was it two hours ago? Who the hell knew. He’d been doing his best to hang out in the other super-soft armchair they’d pulled over to the bedside, but after a while, he’d no longer been able to hide the fact that he was falling asleep sitting up.
Lydia shifted her legs out of the tuck they were in. “Do you need anything? Should I call Georgina for you?”
“No, she’ll come out the second you’re gone. There’s a sensor back there that’s tied to the door.”
“Oh, okay.”
