“I do, yes.” I hesitated for a second, unsure if I should say what I wanted to say. In the end, I decided to go for it. “What these people have been through? The last thing they’d ever do is purposely cause anyone else harm. Guilt’s a major demon for them, as I’m sure comes as no surprise.”
“Why do you feel guilty about your friend? It’s not like you were married to him.”
It was a weird thing to say, but I suspected she was right—losing a spouse would be that much harder. The more involved you were in their life, the more difficult it would be to see that you were not the reason. “We were close. In the way guys are that have been through hell and back. So yeah, when I got the call, the first thought I had was—how did I not see this coming? Why did I miss the signs? How could I have been so self-absorbed or busy or whatever that I wasn’t more careful? I should have visited him more. Got him to talk to me.”
“Speaking from experience, I doubt that would have helped. My husband battled depression for years before … he died.”
“That must have been really hard.” I said it simply, knowing it didn’t need any embellishment.
“I kept thinking medicine would help him. Or a different doctor. So we’d try another approach, and sometimes it made it worse. He would be in bed for days and days.”
“When was this?”
“From the time Annie was a baby. I was juggling her and work and an artist husband who suddenly couldn’t paint.” She gave Poe one more cuddle before taking him gently from her lap and standing, surprisingly graceful given the height of those heels.
I got to my feet as well. Poe rubbed himself against Delphine’s legs, leaving orange fur on her black pants.
“I should get to work,” Delphine said. “I’m sorry … about blasting you.”
“It’s okay.”
She tilted her head to the side, studying me for a moment. “I guess I just needed someone to be angry at.”
“I understand.”
She leaned in half to pet Poe, almost like it was a long-practiced habit, then noticed the fur on her pants. She dug into her bag and pulled out a lint brush. “You never know when you’ll need one of these, right?”
“Sure.”
She swept the stick brush along the parts of her pants where Poe had left his mark. “What time are the meetings?” She straightened. “The one you go to, that is.”
“Every Thursday at six,” I said.
“Good to know.”
She dropped the lint brush into her bag and glanced at the desk, where the book that caused all the kerfuffle remained.
“Would you like your money back? Or store credit?” I asked.
She reached for the book, holding it for a moment. “I’ll keep it. Maybe I’ll read it.”
“You haven’t read it?”
“No, why?” Delphine asked.
“Because I thought that’s why you were so angry. That you knew the content.”
“I’ve heard enough about it to know.” She lifted her chin slightly, immediately defiant. There was something so attractive about the way her eyes glittered and the proud length of her neck, even though she was intimidating.
“If you read it, let me know what you think,” I said.
She stuffed it in her bag, then gave Poe one last pat on the head. “I’ll do that. Bye, Poe.”
He sat on his haunches, looking bereft. What had gotten into this cat?
“Have a good day,” she said to me.
“You too.”
