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“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” the Chief said, pointing a finger at Noah.
Gretchen, still between them, pushed the Chief’s arm down but the Chief was undeterred. Anger flashed in his flinty eyes. “Son,” he said. “I don’t know what crawled up your ass this week, but you better shit it out real quick because I am not putting up with it any longer.”
Noah eyed him. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been acting like a child all week. Now I know Quinn is away but that’s no excuse.”
“I haven’t—” Noah said.
“You have,” Gretchen cut him off. She turned to the Chief. “It’s not that she’s away. They had a fight.”
Noah felt as though she had slapped him. “What? How the hell do you know?”
Gretchen sighed again and stopped packing the box so she could take out her cell phone. She waved it in the air. “Because your wife texted me about the weather today. That’s how I know. No internet. Limited cell service. She’s worried about the storm that’s coming and instead of contacting you, she texted me. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out she’s not speaking to you. So, you had a fight.”
The Chief shook his head slowly, as if in disapproval.
Noah said, “You don’t understand. What happened—”
Chief Chitwood raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “Fraley, I don’t need to know your personal business.”
“True story,” said Gretchen.
Noah felt the last of his energy bleed through his feet into the tile beneath him. He closed his eyes, tipped his head up toward the ceiling and sucked in a few deep breaths. Again, he pictured the look on Josie’s face after she’d told him that she couldn’t have a baby. He had thought she was devastated by the news, but she had had hours to digest it before they spoke. It was only after she left that he realized it wasn’t the news that had shattered her, but his reaction to it. It was true that he hadn’t even known how much he wanted to have children with her until that moment, when it was no longer an option, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want her. He would never not want her.
He had spent the three days before she left begging her to talk to him, but he should have known what was really bothering her. He knew her better than anyone else. As closed off as she could be, this was a point of pride for him. Not only had he married the most extraordinary woman on the planet, but he was good at being her husband. Now he replayed the conversation, the look, the three days afterward, the deafening silence in their normally loud and happy household.
A simple reassurance from him could have prevented all of this strife.
He opened his eyes and looked back at the Chief and Gretchen. “I screwed up.”
Gretchen laughed. “You think?”
The Chief said, “Well, you better figure out a way to un-screw things fast, Fraley.”
EIGHT
SACRED NEW BEGINNINGS RETREAT, SULLIVAN COUNTY
Dinner at the main house was either a very lively event with lots of chatter or a very morose event that felt like a funeral. It all depended on the type of day that the retreat members had had. Tonight, Josie was relieved to see that everyone was in a good mood, in spite of the snow accumulating outside. When they had all participated in the rage room on Tuesday, everyone had been in good spirits then, as well. They sat at a long rectangular table, presided over by Sandrine. It was positioned near the back of the large central room. Normally, they were treated to a view of the trees out front but now, the darkness outside showed them only their own reflections in the wall of windows. Josie was still pondering Sandrine’s earlier question about why her first instinct had been to shut Noah out. She pushed the evening’s dinner around on her plate. It was some sort of rice and vegetable concoction. Sandrine insisted on feeding them healthy, organic dishes, most of which Josie had never heard of before.
An elbow landed softly in Josie’s ribs. She looked up to see Alice Vargus grinning surreptitiously at her. “I would give up a non-essential organ for a slice of pizza right about now. You?”
Josie laughed softly. “You read my mind.”
“Here,” said Alice, plucking a soft roll from her plate and depositing it onto Josie’s. “It’s just about the only thing that’s edible.”
Alice was right. Sandrine had made two dozen gluten-free dinner rolls to go with the meal and placed them in the center of the table. Josie had taken one, not expecting it to be very palatable, but it was delicious. When she reached for a second, they were all gone.
“You don’t have to—” Josie began, but Alice huffed at her in a way that made it clear she was accepting no arguments. “Thanks.”
Although Alice was about twenty years older than Josie, in her mid- to late fifties, the two of them had made fast friends. Back home in New York City, Alice was an emergency room nurse. She had confessed that there were things she saw on the job that traumatized her. Josie had related instantly to that. But none of them were there for just one issue. To get on the retreat, you had to reach a certain bar for trauma. All of them there had complex PTSD. In addition to Alice’s traumatic work experience, she had been raped at the tender age of nineteen and gone on to bear a son. Raising him with few resources and parents who wanted little to do with a grandson fathered by a rapist, Alice had turned to drugs and alcohol, spiraling out of control until she lost custody of her son. After hitting rock bottom, going to rehab, and slowly piecing her life together, including taking several years to complete nursing school, she had tried to reconnect with her son. He had wanted nothing to do with her. Although Alice tried, year after year, to make amends, he did not welcome her overtures.
Alice dropped her voice again so that only Josie could hear it. “I saw Cooper riding the Gator down the path before dinner. He was really struggling in the snow.”
Josie nodded and told her about the conversation with Sandrine. With a sigh, Alice sat back in her chair and put her fork down. She regarded the others around them, each one locked in conversation with someone else. “I suppose there are worse places to be stuck although the company could be better. Bunch of sad sacks, we are.”
“I’m not worried about the company,” Josie said. “I’m worried about supplies.”
