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“I meant to say Mrs. Gherring. Are we discussing her grandson?”

Curious at his awkwardness discussing Gram, she almost forgot how miserable she was. “Yes, I’m talking about Margaret’s grandson. My boss.”

“So, are you saying Steven Gherring is in love, now? And this is why you’re crying… because you’re so happy?”

Steven Gherring is in love. Why do those words make me want to crawl in a hole?

“That’s it. I’m j-j-just s-s-so happy.” She sobbed anew, covering her face and peeking between her fingers. Mr. Hamilton must think I’m crazy.

He shook his head like he was waking from a daydream. “And who’s he in love with?”

“Ellen. And sh-sh-she’s wonderful. What’s wrong with me? I love Ellen, I really do. And I’m so happy for them.”

She attempted to make a proud face. “And I did it!”

“You did what?” He peered at Anne as if she might confess to murder.

“I matched them. I brought them together. I did it. I’m responsible for their love. That’s why I’m so happy.” She reached for another tissue to wipe her face and blow her nose.

“Sweetie, I know I haven’t known you for a real long time. But is this what you usually do when you’re extra happy?” He waited quietly while she sniffed a few more times and took another deep quaky breath.

“Not usually,” she admitted in a small voice.

“So, that means… maybe you aren’t so happy after all?”

She should be happy, but she felt awful. “No, I’m not happy. I’m not happy at all. What’s wrong with me? I don’t understand. I’m miserable. I feel like all the air has been sucked out of the world. Maybe I need to see a doctor. That’s it—I need a psychiatrist.”

“I believe you, honey, because I’ve never seen you like this before. Everything will be fine, I’m sure.” He scratched his head. “I thought… well, that is… Margaret mentioned she thought Steven was in love. She didn’t ever actually mention this Ellen girl.”

“Yes, well it all happened so fast. Monday, I was trying to introduce them, and he was really rude to Ellen. Then he sat down and had lunch with us and asked her all kinds of questions.” She paused to recount the events in her mind.

“Then the next thing I knew, he was flirting with her. And he asked her out. And he was showing her off to the social reporters. And they were in his apartment together.” She felt herself blushing at this last memory.

“And they’re going to the Christmas party together. And he’s bought her two new dresses.”

She put her hand on his arm. “That means something, you know. He said he doesn’t do anything that doesn’t mean something.” She saw him flinch and realized she was gripping his arm tightly. Removing her hand, she saw the imprints of her fingernails remained behind.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hamilton. But he looked so comfortable with her last night. So content. I can tell he doesn’t need me anymore. Wait… maybe that’s the problem.” She blinked a few times, suddenly excited. “Maybe it’s like when your child grows up and leaves home and you realize you aren’t needed anymore.”

She went on, her enthusiasm growing. “That’s it! For weeks I’ve been obsessing about Steven Gherring and finding someone for him to make him happy. Now that that’s happened, I guess I’m miserable because I’ve lost my purpose.”

Mr. Hamilton twisted his mouth to one side. “I guess that could explain it. You’d certainly have a right to be miserable after losing your purpose.”

She nodded vigorously and felt her spirits lift a little. “I would, wouldn’t I? I’d be depressed and gloomy.” She allowed herself a small smile as she watched him for confirmation. “And confused.”

He bobbed his head in agreement. “And sad and pathetic.”

> She stared at him. “Pathetic?” Her lips began to quiver. “I’m pathetic?”

Tears fell like a waterfall. Mr. Hamilton gaped at her and fumbled for a tissue, finally handing her the entire box.

Rayna spotted her the moment she entered the lobby. “Anne! Where have you been? I didn’t see you leave.”

“I just went for an early morning walk. Why? Did you need me for something?”

“No. It’s just… you know… I feel like someone should keep an eye on you.”

“Okay, Rayna.” Anne eyed her friend curiously. She’d certainly been attentive lately. As if she were constantly keeping track of Anne’s whereabouts. “First, I’m going upstairs to take a shower. And then I’ll probably take a nap, because I didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll eat lunch around noon. Sound okay?”

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