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I nod, remembering. “He said virtually the same thing to me.”
“So.” She draws a clogged breath. “How on earth could this work?”
“James wouldn’t have to be referenced in whatever you decide to put online,” I say carefully. I’ve thought about this, but it still feels loaded. Dangerous. “Even if he did agree, you’d still probably need to raise some amount of money, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose… but do you really think having Emily’s story splashed about on the internet will make James change his mind?” She releases a breath. “It might just make him dig in all the more.”
“Attention might exert some… pressure,” I say.
“That sounds manipulative.”
“All marketing is manipulative, to a degree. We’re appealing to people’s emotions, to their better selves. But in essence we’re playing them.” It sounds stark, but it’s the reality, at its base. “But you don’t have to think of this about just you getting what you want. It’s about helping others—helping people who want to help, as well as helping people like the doctor in Italy who wants to make a difference.”
Her mouth twitches and I realize she is smiling; it’s the first time I’ve seen her do it, and even that little quirk of her lips transforms and lightens her face. It makes me realize how she might have been, before Emily got sick. I wonder if, in another reality, we might have been friends. “You really can spin things, can’t you?” she says.
I smile back, the stretching of my lips like exercising an old muscle. “It’s my job.”
“You’re good at it.”
“Thank you.”
A long silence follows, one that expands and fills the room. Are we actually getting along? It’s so unexpected, but it feels good. I realize I don’t just feel sorry for Rachel; I like her. At least, I think I could.
“I just don’t know,” she says finally. “I just don’t know. I hate the thought of Emily being out there, for public consumption. You read comments online… they can be so awful. I really don’t think I could handle that, and I know James would hate it. He would never forgive me, for going public with our lives. With Emily.” She gives me a piercing look. “He might never forgive you.”
My stomach churns and I taste acid in my mouth. Why am I here? What am I doing? “It could all be very sensitively done,” I say after a moment. The words taste metallic in my mouth. “And nothing would be posted that you didn’t sign off on, a hundred percent. Plus, it can all be taken down in the blink of an eye if you change your mind.”
“But you must know that’s not true, if you’re in marketing. If it’s posted on the internet, it’s on there forever. Screenshots, forwarded emails… you can’t get rid of it.”
I incline my head. “That’s true.”
“And people can be so cruel…” Rachel takes a shaky breath. “I really don’t know. And I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Why do you care so much, Eva? I mean, I know the whole thing is sad to the average bystander, but… Emily isn’t your child.” She doesn’t say this nastily, just a gentle statement of fact. “Why do you care?”
The question hangs in the air, suspended, weightless. I think of how I could answer, the story I could tell, my own little tale of sorrow and grief, but I don’t, because this is Rachel’s story, and in any case, I don’t want to reveal mine. “I can’t stop thinking about Emily,” I say, which is true. “And I want to help her. At least, I want to try. If you want me to.” Rachel still doesn’t look convinced, and how can I blame her? I don’t believe myself. “This means a lot to me, Rachel. I don’t expect you to understand that, but it does. It really does.” And that is all I can say about that.
I glance at my watch; it’s after eight and James will be coming home soon. I should be there. I certainly shouldn’t be here. Yet I don’t want to leave it like this.
“I’ll think about it,” Rachel says at last. “Although I’m not sure how – even if we can raise the money and awareness – doing this would get James to agree.”
“He’ll see how strongly you feel about it. How other people care. He’ll be given another perspective.” Although, like Rachel said, all that might just make him dig in deeper.
“All right.” She nods slowly. “I’ll think about it. Why don’t you give me your phone number so we can be in touch?”
“Okay.” We spend a few minutes inputting each other’s details into our phones, it feels odd, like we’re planning for a date. When we’re finished I rise to go. “Thanks for listening to me, anyway,” I say as I head for the door.
“No, I should be the one thanking you, Eva.” Rachel smiled tiredly. “I’m sorry if I seemed… suspicious. Hostile. I don’t… it’s just that I didn’t expect this.”
“I understand.” I didn’t expect this, either, even though I was the one who planned it. Who has been thinking about it pretty much nonstop for the last few weeks, even though I haven’t wanted to. It still feels like a surprise, to both of us.
“And I’m sorry if I seem… like I don’t care enough.” Rachel’s eyes fill with tears and she swallows hard. “As if I wouldn’t do everything I could for Emily, even this. I would, I always would, but…” She makes a gulping sort of sound. “Today’s been a hard day. My mother… she’s not well.” She sniffs. “Not that that… I just… please don’t think I’m… I’m a bad mother.”
I stare at her, appalled. “Rachel, I couldn’t think anything less.” She gives a watery smile and sniffs. “I think you’re amazing,” I tell her sincerely. “I’ve never doubted that for a single second.”
“Really?” She looks at me almost hungrily, and I wonder if there is anyone left in her life who can tell her these things.
“Of course I do. You’ve given your life over to take care of Emily. You’ve never stopped fighting for her. I admire that. It’s part of the reason why I want to help.”
Rachel brushes at her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers, and suddenly I feel guilty. Who am I, to push her into anything?
