“Why now?” I ask Linda. “How’d you know to come now?”
“When we last spoke, you really worried me.” Linda stays focused on the road ahead. “I didn’t like you being all alone out here.”
“I wasn’t alone.”
“She’s not your family.” Linda drifts to a stop at a red light. I hear what she means by this.I am your family.I don’t deserve her kinship, her unconditional love.
“I’m sorry,” I begin. I need to tell her. Whatever it may do to our friendship, she deserves to know the truth, what I thought about her husband, how I distrusted him so quickly. “Last time we spoke, I was trying to tell you, when I was fired—”
“I knew,” Linda blurts, unable to hold it in any longer. “Dick told me they were going to fire you. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell you, but to hell with that. I should have warned you. I shouldn’t have let you get blindsided. I’m sorry.”
The light changes, and Linda floors the gas pedal.
No, I’m sorry,I’m about to say. Her expression makes me hesitate. She’s calm, absolved. She needs to forgive herself, not to forgive me.
“It’s not your fault,” I say instead. It wasn’t Dick’s fault either. I wasn’t fired because of anything he may have done. I wasn’t fired because I’m obsolete, because I’m a woman, an older woman. I was fired because I went against protocol. I overstepped and made a young woman uncomfortable along the way. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
And that’s the truth of it. It would have made no difference if Linda had told me. In fact, I probably would have done something rash in response. She was right not to get involved. My meddling hasn’t helped anyone. It didn’t help Jessica. It didn’t save Regina. It hasn’t kept Tessa safe. It won’t benefit Linda now, if I tell her what I thought I saw between her husband and his employee. I let this moment, its apology, belong to my friend. That’s what she needs from me.
Linda turns the radio on, and we listen to songs from our youth until we pull into the rental car lot. The sky becomes a pale orange as we wait for the shuttle bus to take us to the terminal. Outside, it’s still warm. My coat dangles over my arm, carefully positioned so the phone won’t fall out.
A jolt shocks my leg like I’ve been electrocuted. It’s only my phone, the airline, alerting me of a gate change. I close the text exchange, then freeze when I notice a missed text from Tessa, sent over an hour ago.
Help.
The shuttle bus pulls to a stop before us. The driver helps Linda with her suitcase, and she mounts the steps behind him, stopping when she realizes I haven’t followed.
I stare up at her from the sidewalk. “I have to go.”
“What do you mean?” Linda leans out without stepping off the bus. “Our plane leaves in eighty minutes.”
“I need to help Tessa.” I wave my phone in Linda’s direction. Tessa has asked for my help. I can’t abandon her now.
Linda climbs down from the bus, grabs my phone, and reads the text.
“Barb,” she cautions.
“I’ll explain everything when I get home, all right?”
“I’m staying with you.”
The driver watches us. “Ma’am?” the driver asks Linda.
It rattles Linda, who likes being calledma’amabout as much as I do.
“I’ll be home soon,” I promise her.
She studies me, about to say something, then steps onto the bus. We hold each other’s gaze as the doors close and the bus pulls away from the curb. I may not have been able to save Regina, but I can save Tessa. If I’m not too late.
The sunlight is starting to fade by the time I’m back at the canals, banging on Tessa’s front door. No one answers. I step back into the alley. A light glows from the second floor. Someone is home.
“Tessa,” I scream. “Tessa.” I jump up and down until my knees remind me I’m too old for the impact. “Tessa,” I shout again.
I feel her first, a prickling across my skin before the ominous words “She’s not here.”
I whip around to see the next-door neighbor, unable to decipher what her constipated expression forebodes for Tessa.
“Where is she?”
