Chapter 13 - THE DAY NAOMI WALKED AWAY
I called Naomi.
She did not answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
The old version of me would have sent men.
Found her address.
Put a car outside.
Called it concern.
Instead, I stopped.
That was difficult.
Then Rosie found me staring at my phone.
“Did Miss Naomi leave because of us?”
“No.”
“Because of you?”
Children are brutal.
“Maybe partly.”
Rosie considered.
“Did you say sorry?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask her to stay?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she gets to leave.”
Rosie nodded as though that was obvious.
Then walked away.
Five years old.
Better boundaries than every man in my family.
Naomi returned three weeks later.
Not to work.
To attend Jack’s school recital.
She sat beside Isabella’s mother.
I saw her from across the auditorium.
Did not approach until afterward.
“Hello.”
She smiled.
“Hello.”
“You look well.”
“So do you.”
Awful conversation.
Jack ran toward her and destroyed the awkwardness.
“Miss Naomi!”
He hugged her.
Rosie followed.
I stood there holding two paper cups of terrible school coffee.
Naomi looked at me.
“How are they?”
“Loud.”
“Good.”
“Rosie painted the dog yellow.”
“You don’t have a dog.”
“I know.”
She laughed.
I missed that sound.
Then we walked outside.
The children went ahead with their grandparents.
Naomi and I remained beneath bare trees.
“I wanted to thank you.”
“You already did.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“I thanked you for evidence.”
She waited.
“I never thanked you for seeing my children while I wasn’t looking.”
Her expression changed.
“That wasn’t difficult.”
“For me it was.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought providing things counted as attention.”
Naomi nodded.
“And now?”
“Now Jack talks for forty minutes about planets.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
“And Rosie?”
“She lies about brushing her teeth.”
Naomi smiled.
“Normal.”
“Apparently.”
Silence.
Then I said:
“I miss you.”
Her eyes lifted.
I immediately added:
“You don’t have to do anything with that information.”
That surprised her.
“Therapy?”
“Painfully.”
She laughed.
Then became serious.
“I miss you too.”
My heart changed.
But Naomi raised one hand.
“No.”
I stopped.
“I’m not becoming the reward for your rehabilitation.”
That sentence might have offended me once.
Now it made sense.
“I know.”
“I’m not Isabella’s replacement.”
“I know.”
“I’m not your children’s new mother because they drew me on a family tree.”
“I know.”
“And I will never live in a house where my employment depends on your affection.”
I almost smiled.
“You don’t work for me.”
“Good.”
I looked at her.
“Would you have coffee with me?”
She considered.
“Public place?”
“Yes.”
“No security at the table?”
“Yes.”
“No buying the café?”
I sighed.
“I can make no promises.”
She stared.
“I promise.”
“One coffee.”
“One.”
Then my phone rang.
Mara.
Arthur had requested another interview.
He claimed he remembered something about Isabella’s crash.
Something everyone missed.
The drunk driver had not been random.
He had been paid.
May you like
And the payment had not come from Patrick.
It came from someone Isabella trusted.
