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So much for that. “Right.”
Elisa closed her eyes and sank deeper into the pillows fluffed up behind her. Her initial reaction was distrust, to question Rachel’s motives and story. Elisa forced her mind in another direction. Rachel wasn’t Josh.
Now Elisa had to think of a polite way to tell Rachel shecould leave. Elisa craved a long bath and a clear head. She’d almost been sucked under today. The world spun and her vision flickered. She hadn’t suffered a deep mental fog like this for a long time.
Rachel cleared her throat. “Look, I know—”
Elisa’s eyes shot open again. “What?”
Rachel just sat there. She put her mug on the coffee table but didn’t force a conversation. She sat there, looking comfortable in the silence.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Elisa said and truly meant it.
“I snuck into your house and scared the crap out of you.” Rachel looked amused as she shrugged. “I earned a shout or two.”
Elisa really did like Rachel. She had a caring smile and seemed strong and decent. That didn’t mean she could survive Josh, and Elisa couldn’t come up with the right words to make Rachel understand that... yet. “Still, you’ve been nothing but kind, and every time we meet I seem to be on the verge of screaming.”
“It’s fine.”
Something about the way she said it made Elisa freeze. “Is it?”
Rachel stared at the family photo over the fireplace. “Elisa, I know about the shooting.”
Chapter Fifteen
The shooting.
Eleven months and eight days ago. Elisa could add in the hours and minutes if she wanted to, but she didn’t. Theincident—how she tried to think of it because it sounded more academic than real—already took up too much space in her head. She wasn’t going to give it more.
“Josh told you.” Because of course he had. It made sense. It would be the kind of thing you’d warn a new girlfriend about before she met the family, on the off chance it would come up.
Don’t talk about the hospital shooting.
“He provided some details, and I remembered others from the news.” Rachel reached for her tea again and seemed to relax on her side of the couch. “I admit I did a computer search to find the rest.”
“I don’t blame you.” Elisa didn’t. She’d planned to do some background checking on Rachel, just to be safe, but the days kept blowing up in emotionally unexpected ways.
“We don’t have to talk about what happened to you,” Rachel said in a near-whisper.
Good, because Elisa never talked about it. Some of her closest friends had shied away, clearly afraid of saying the wrong thing. Others gave her space and she never closed the gap again.
Sure, she talked at first with a therapist she didn’t want because going over the pieces of what happened that day kept the wound open and exposed. Elisa also talked with Harris, but she’d purposely downplayed the details. The first weeks after had been this careful dance. She felt fragile, and he treated her like she might shatter at any moment. Only Nathan carried on, keeping his life focused on what he needed. As it should be.
Elisa inhaled nice and deep. At some point the incident should be a distant memory that no longer filled her with dread, but not yet. Reliving those terrifying moments created stark visions, ones that refused to fade.
“I worked at a hospital in Philadelphia, handling expenses and procurement.” Elisa hated how that part of her life was in the past, but it was. “Right out front of the building on weekdays there was this coffee cart. It had the best muffins.”
“What kind?”
Elisa appreciated the question because it let her stall and hold back the worst of it for a few more minutes. “Weirdly, cranberry. Usually not my favorite, but they were so good. A little sweet and a little tart.” Elisa exhaled again, trying to gather the energy to keep talking. “Every day I had either a small salad and muffin or yogurt for lunch, and I always got it there.”
Rachel smiled but didn’t say anything else.
“Then one day—” Elisa’s voice broke. She heard the snap deep inside and felt it twist through her whole body. She brought her legs up until her feet were flat against the cushions and she could balance her mug between her knees in front of her. “Maxine Webber, my boss, joined me for lunch. We were outside, talking about nothing really. Nothing work related. She was excited for her grandson’s second birthday and complaining about the outdated kitchen her husband insisted was fine as is, without renovation.”
Elisa tried to relax but her muscles kept seizing up on her. “Her husband was a contractor and could do the work, but Maxine wanted to hire someone so that it would actually get done. She said her husband didn’t want to be on call once they got home, so nothing of theirs ever got fixed or updated.”
Without closing her eyes Elisa could see Maxine, a tall black woman. Slim and focused. She didn’t take any shit and some of the people who worked for her hated that. They met her with a bit of ahow dare sheattitude, which was bullshit.
