Page 95 of Dark Ugly Places

“I just want to help,” I add, feeling a strange circle of warmth in my body. “Now, what else can I get you? Vicodin? Valium? More Ambien so you can sleep?”

“Yes, all of those,” she says quietly and leans back in bed. “How long does this take to work?”

“Give it a few minutes,” I say. “You’ll feel better in no time.”

I set down the notebook and diary I keep with all her meetings, appointments, and my tasks inside.

Bambi stares at me, watching, a flicker of desperation passing through her eyes. “They’re going to drop me,” she announces.

“We still have time.”

She shakes her head helplessly, her hair disheveled and dirty. “No, no, no! He knew what he was doing, Martha. Don’t you see? I’m finished. Just like him.”

A strange sense of outrage explodes in my chest. “Don’t say that. We can fix this.”

“Look at me! Look at this! I’m tired of fighting. I just want this to be over.” The tears are back, pooling in her eyes. But something stills in Bambi, and she blinks once, looks away, and it disappears.

“You know why I hired you, right?”

It’s the question I’ve been waiting for, the one I’ve been hoping she would ask.

“I think so, Mrs. Redfern.”

“Cut the shit, Martha. I’m not Mrs. Redfern anymore. We’re friends now. I mean, you work for me and everything, but you’ve seen this,” she says, pointing to her swollen face. “So I think that makes us friends, right?”

“Yes,” I say.

“So, tell me, why did I hire you?”

“Because you need help.”

“I need help, that’s true.” She shifts, reaching for the edge of my chair. For a second, I think she wants to touch me again, but it isn’t that. She’s just trying to get her bearings.

“But you’ve seen things, things no one else has seen. I could have kept them from you just like I keep them from everyone else. But I wanted you to see. I needed you to see.” Her hand stays on the edge of my chair, lingering.

“I know,” I tell her, even though there is no way Bambi could have kept her secret from me for long. I had a sense about it as soon as I walked in the door. “So now that I’m here, now that I’ve seen everything, the question is: what do you want me to do?”

To my surprise, Bambi looks shocked when I ask her this. Maybe I read her wrong. Maybe this isn’t the point. Maybe I missed something. But I’ve never been wrong about people before. I can read their insides.

“So, you understand? You actually get it?”

I reach for her fingertips. Her nails are a beautiful baby pink, the color you would add to a little girl’s room if you were going to have a child. I let my hands fall over hers, and she flinches just slightly. “Of course I do.”

Bambi blinks her eyes at me and leaves her hand beneath mine. I know she wants to move it, but she doesn’t. “I just, I can’t do this anymore. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

His name is lodged inside her, trapped. I know she wants to say it, needs to say it, but getting it out is like vomiting thorns.

“You mean Jason, don’t you?”

Her head falls. “He makes me feel like I can’t do anything, like I’m nothing without him. And still somehow, with all of it, he makes me feel like I’m something special, like I’m lucky to be with him. It’s all so messed up.”

I know arguing is useless. I know browbeating and encouragement are useless. I know pushing her or trying to boost her self-esteem is useless. There’s a monster lurking, and if he’s allowed to, he will swallow up everything in his path. “He hurts you,” I say and let the words sit there, hanging in the air like cigarette smoke.

Bambi nods.

My fingers close around her hand. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

When she looks up at me, her eyes are full of tears. “Sometimes he’s the most wonderful, charismatic person on the whole planet. Other times, I’m scared I’m not going to be able to get through to him, like I’m not real to him anymore, you know?”