Then he walked past the gaping women and disappeared around the corner.
Olive faced her friends. “What are you doing here? What aren’t you in Olympia?”
Winnie waved her hands in the air as if she were clearing a cobweb. “Give me a moment to recover from the shock of seeing you with Emil Anderson again.”
“Does that mean you’re together?” Clem asked eagerly.
Olive managed a small smile. “It does. I think.”
“Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?” Clem asked, the corners of her eyes crinkling with concern.
“Because I have,” she admitted. “I’m afraid I’m in…a difficult situation.”
“I knew it,” said Winnie, casting a look at Clem. “That’s why we left Olympia.”
“Oh no. Clem, you’re the president of our club. You should be there to see the vote through! And Winnie, your article?—”
“I can write an article from here,” Winnie interrupted. “And honestly, the press table was full of windbags making light of our cause. I’d much rather be here with you.”
“And no lawmaker was going to change his vote because I was sitting in the gallery,” Clem added. “Truth be told, Olive, there we were, sitting with our sisters from around the state, and it felt wrong.”
“Why?” Olive whispered.
“Because you weren’t there. And neither was Rhoda.”
“We started together,” Winie said, nodding firmly. “And we’re damn well going to finish it together.”
Hope flared briefly in Olive’s chest, followed quickly by guilt that she hadn’t done anything to help. “Has Rhoda been found?”
“No,” Clem said, her voice tight with frustration. “It has been the longest two weeks of my life.”
“We won’t stop searching,” Winnie said, “But right now, we’re here for you.”
“For me?”
“We’ve been worried about you for quite some time, but we didn’t want to press. We thought if you needed help, you’d ask. But we should have insisted. Please accept our apology.”
Olive’s throat burned. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’ve grown too used to hiding things. Too skilled at shame.” She looked down, then admitted, “I was afraid that if you knew how bad things really were, you wouldn’t want to be around me. That I’d become a burden.”
Winnie gasped. “Don’t say that.”
“You are never a burden,” Clem insisted. “Do you know why I started the society, apart from all the political reasons? Because I wanted to make friends who thought like me. I wanted to create a space where women can feel safe and welcome. Where they have someone to lean on in times of need. Olive, dear, it’s simply your turn. Who knows, maybe I’ll be next in line.”
“Or me,” Winnie said, pulling her into a fierce hug. “Do you understand now?”
Olive nodded against Winnie’s shoulder, her breath shuddering. Winnie’s embrace was a close second to Emil’s—warm, safe, and full of love. She stayed there a moment before pulling back.
“So tell us, dear,” Clem invited softly. “What’s going on?”
Olive took a long, steadying breath. The words stuck at first—they were so rarely used—but then they came. “I…I need help.”
Clem smiled. “Then help you shall have.”
“Is it your mother?” Winnie asked, and Olive nodded miserably.
“Among other things.”
“Then we’ll start there,” Clem said briskly. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll put the kettle on. We’ll sit, we’ll talk, and we’ll wait for Emil to come back with Robbie.”
