“Thank you,” Melissa said, and her voice came out rougher than she’d intended.
June nodded. She hesitated in the doorway, and Melissa thought she might say something else—might ask again if Melissa was okay, might push past the deflections to whatever was underneath.
But she didn’t. She just said, “Have a good evening, Senator Brandt.”
“Melissa.”
June stopped in the doorway. “What?”
“Melissa. I believe at this point, you can call me by my given name. No need to be so formal.”
“Oh.” June’s eyes were wide, and then she nodded, her lips turning up in a small smile. “All right. Good night, Melissa.”
She closed the door softly behind her.
Melissa sat alone in the dark, wondering if it was too much familiarity, if she’d just made a mistake.
She stared at the tea. No one had done something like that for her in years without being paid for it. No one had noticed she was struggling and tried to help without being asked, without expecting anything in return. Even Rachel, for all her fierce loyalty, usually demanded answers before offering comfort. And Michael, he’d stopped doing such things long before the divorce was a fact.
But June had just… noticed. And brought tea. And left without requiring Melissa to perform strength she didn’t feel.
She wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into her fingers.
Melissa had just finished the tea and was contemplating whether she had the energy to shower before bed when the doorbell rang.
She glanced at the clock. Nearly ten. Too late for deliveries, too late for constituents, too late for anyone with reasonable boundaries.
Which meant it could only be one person.
She opened the door to find Rachel on the porch, still in scrubs, a paper bag in one hand and an expression that brooked no argument.
“You didn’t call.”
“Rachel, it’s—”
“You didn’t call, so I came.” Rachel pushed past her into the foyer. “I brought Thai food, because I didn’t have dinner and I don’t know if you did, and wine, because you look like you need it.”
“I ate. June made—”
“The nanny made dinner? Good. Then you can have seconds.” Rachel was already heading toward the kitchen, and Melissa had no choice but to follow.
June was there, sitting at the kitchen table with a book and a mostly empty cup of tea, and she looked up with surprise when they entered.
“Oh. Hello.” Her eyes moved to Rachel’s scrubs, to the paper bag, to the bottle of wine. “I can get out of your way—”
“You must be June.” Rachel set the bag on the island and extended her hand with a warm smile. “I’m Rachel. Melissa’s friend. The one who shows up uninvited when she ignores my calls.”
“I didn’t ignore your calls. I was going to call—”
“Right, because you usually call at ten at night.” Rachel turned back to June, still smiling. “She does this. Retreats into her fortress of solitude and pretends she doesn’t need anyone. It’s infuriating.”
June’s mouth quirked. “I’ve noticed.”
“Have you? Good. Then you can help me stage interventions.” Rachel pulled containers out of the bag—pad thai, spring rolls, something with basil that smelled incredible. “Have you eaten? There’s enough here for three.”
“I should probably—” June glanced at Melissa, uncertain.
“Stay,” Rachel said. “Please. I want to hear about the woman who’s apparently performed miracles with Lila. Melissa told me about lake trips and otter facts?”
