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“So how much are you going to pay me to do your job?”
“If you leave there and aren’t satisfied with what’s happened to you, I’ll refund every penny you’ve paid me. And Faith?”
“Yes?”
“Take all business cards from everyone.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Don’t throw away any business cards. And call me tomorrow and tell me what cards you have.”
“Is this some new therapy for especially damaged people?”
“Yes and no. Just let me know, will you?”
“Sure,” Faith said, puzzled by the request. They said goodbye and Faith went into the house. Zoë was out of the bathroom and there was no light under her door so maybe she was asleep. Faith thought about knocking on Amy’s door because she did see a light, but she didn’t. It had been a long day and she wanted to rest.
She went into the bathroom, meaning to take a shower, but instead, she filled the tub with steamy-hot water and got into it to soak. Lying in a bathtub of very hot water had been one of her few relaxations in the many years it took her husband to die. He always encouraged her to spend as long as she wanted in the tub, and every bath had been a hedonistic rite that involved heat and delicious herbal smells and candles. Eddie used to tease her that when she was in the bathtub she went away to a fairy-tale kingdom.
But as Eddie grew worse and she began to be afraid that her every second with him would be their last together, she’d stopped the tub baths and settled for quick showers.
Eddie was dead now. He’d passed away over a year ago, and just as Faith feared, she’d been out of the house when it happened. At the very end, Eddie’d had a professional nurse who came for three hours a day, but it was still left to Faith to do the errands. Never mind that they lived in his mother’s house and she had four servants, Faith was still sent to the drugstore, the grocery, to wherever her mother-in-law wanted her to go.
Faith had returned from the grocery, full of stories about the outside world, to find that the nurse had pulled a sheet over Eddie’s dear face. His mother had been with him in his last minutes. She had held his hand and said goodbye.
It was late when Faith let the water out of the tub, dried off, and put on her nightgown and robe. She was heading into the bedroom when she thought she heard a sound in the house. An intruder?
She opened the door a bit and could see the third woman, Amy, in the kitchen. Faith wanted to go to bed, but she also wanted to get to know this woman.
“Hello,” Faith said softly, but Amy still jumped as though a firecracker had gone off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m fine,” Amy said quickly. “Sorry I woke you. I just wanted a cup of tea.”
“Did you have any dinner?”
“I bought some sandwiches at the airport so I had plenty, thank you.” Amy started toward her bedroom.
“I talked to Jeanne tonight.”
Amy stopped and turned back to her. “I’ve never met the woman. Without even meeting me, she heavy-handed my husband into sending me to…to this place.”
Faith gave a small smile. “That sounds like her. I think all three of us are trauma victims and she thought we might like to talk to one another.”
“Trauma?” Amy said, and gave Zoë’s darkened room a quick glance. “What sort of trauma?”
“You mean did either of us murder anyone?”
When Amy heard it said out loud it did sound preposterous, but at the same time she didn’t know either of these women.
Faith got a tea bag out of a box, put it in a cup, and poured boiling water on it. She took her cup to the wooden table and sat down. “I don’t know about you, but I have no idea why I was sent here.”
Amy’s eyes widened and she took the few steps back into the kitchen. “Me either.”
“My husband died, but he’d been ill for a very long time. It wasn’t traumatic at all. I expected his death. I keep telling Jeanne that a person needs time to get over a death, but she seems to think I should snap out of it yesterday and start wearing red dresses.”
“I like your clothes,” Amy said as she sat down across from Faith. “They suit you.”
“I guess they do,” Faith said absently. “What about you? Why are you here?”
