Anxiety ripples through my veins. I think about reaching out to Jesika to ask how she’s doing. I haven’t spoken to her since our movie night, which was almost a week ago now, so maybe it wouldn’t be too forward for me to send a quick text. I’ve been in Chicago for more than three weeks, having extended my hotel stay, and while I’ve definitely inserted myself into their lives, I haven’t really accomplished anything yet.
I turn my attention back to Jesika’s caption and give it a quick reread. The last line mentions that the police suspect an attempted robbery as the motivation. I smile to myself, because that was the point. Bishop may have become my own version of a male clinger, but at least he’s good for something.
Without giving it much more thought, I tap out a quick text message to Jesika.Hey! Hope you’re feeling better! Wanna go out for tacos and catch up soon? xx M
Before I’ve even closed the message app, three little dots appear on the screen, indicating that Jesika is replying. I holdmy breath until her message finally pops up on my screen.Dean was attacked! Just leaving the hospital. Doctors are keeping him overnight. I’m so scared!
My eyes widen as I take in her message. What can I even reply?
Wanna do tacos now?
Still, I don’t reply. I’m frozen.
Meet me at the taco truck in the park. Right across from my building. I’ll be there in 10!
I’m already shoving my shoes on my feet. I type back a quickokayand then swipe my cardigan and bag off the chair and head out. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes, and all I can think as I descend on the elevator and walk through the lobby is that I can’t wait to comfort Jesika in her time of need.
“Oh, Maya—can you believe what happened?” Jesika is sobbing into my ear as she wraps me in a hug. I can feel her shaking, and her eyes are wet with terror-filled tears. “I don’t want to go home. It happened before daylight this morning when he was leaving for work!”
“Oh, Jes—” I rub her back, soothing her the best I know how. “I’m so sorry. What did the police say?”
Jesika plops down onto the bench nearest to us and buries her face in her hands. “They’re practically blaming us for not having better security footage! They think it was a random attack, but I don’t think so. I think someone knew there aren’t security cameras in the garage. I think someone knew exactly what they were doing.”
“Well—” I sit next to her “—at least he’s okay.”
“Barely. He has a punctured lung! One of the neighbors saw it happen and called the police—he could have lain there all day, and I wouldn’t have known. Imagine if I had to raise this baby by myself.”
“You wouldn’t be alone,” I say.
“I’m so shook. A policewoman told me to carry pepper spray if I’m nervous, but I’m not a violent person. I’ve been doing yoga for a decade, and the entire foundation of our belief system is to lift others up. Violence goes against my religion.”
“Well, I hardly think carrying pepper spray for self-defense makes you a lapsed yogi.”
“Buddhist. I’m Buddhist. And it would, actually. I’m not comfortable with it.”
“Okay, well?—”
“I had to convince Dean to go to the police,” she interrupts me. “He didn’t want to. Isn’t that crazy? At least there’s an investigation open now if the attacker comes back.” She’s fingering the fringe on her designer scarf as she talks. “I swear, if I knew who the little street thug was, I’d sue him for emotional trauma. I-I could have lost the baby, this has been so stressful. On top of all the morning sickness, my system is already under pressure. Just putting one foot in front of the other most days is a chore.”
“Oh, Jes. I’ll help however I can. If you ever need anything, just let me know. I can help out while Dean is healing.”
“You’re so sweet.” Jesika composes herself, straightening her back and shoving a crumpled tissue into her bag. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” She pats my hand. “I gave your name and number to the policewoman. She might call you with questions.”
“Questions?” I nearly gasp. “What kinds of questions?”
“Who knows.” She waves them off. “She just asked if anyone new had been in and out of the apartment in the last few weeks—tons of people have been in and out—we just moved in! But she wanted a list. She probably won’t even call you, but if she does, just tell them what you know—which is nothing.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure nothing will come of it. I swear, bad people get away with everything.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You’ll never guess what happened!” Jesika chirps two mornings later when I stop by to drop off her morning latte. Dean still isn’t out of the hospital, so I’ve been taking his place however I can.
“What?” I drop her hot coffee off to her on the couch and then head to the kitchen with a bouquet of fresh flowers in hand. “And do you have a flower vase?”
“Under the sink,” Jesika calls. She hasn’t moved a muscle since Dean has been in the hospital. The kitchen sink is no longer full of dirty dishes, thanks to me, and I’ve also swept and mopped the travertine floors and dusted and picked up in the living room. I don’t know anything about how Jesika was raised, but I imagine she must have been pampered because she takes to my doting on her like a fish to water.
“There.” I drop the flowers into the vase of fresh, cool water and then lean in for a sniff. The pink and yellow roses are bright and cheery and add a little pop of color to this otherwise modern, minimalist space.
“Thank you for the coffee, by the way. I’m so lucky to have you.” Jesika sips her coffee and then sets it on the sidetable. “First, the good news. Dean is being released from the hospital this afternoon.”
