I realize as the words tumble from my mouth that thisis the first time I’ve formed this idea into a thought I can articulate.
“How so?”
“I think part of the reason Hugh was drawn to me—besides the physical attraction—was that he saw me as a together, responsible person, someone who’d been smart about her career and her life. He’s always been pretty buttoned-up himself, and he knew he could count on me, that I was never going to drop the ball with what matters. And now I’ve become this kind of wild card. I came unglued, and he’s wondering if it’s not the first time—or even the last.”
In some ways it’s a relief to spell it out, but at the same time, I have no idea where I go from here.
“So what the hell does this mean for the future?” I ask before she can respond.
“Sometimes it simply takes people a while to process the turmoil a partner is going through and become more accepting. The more time you and Hugh spend talking, the better.”
“But Ididmake time to talk to him, and look what happened.... I’m sure part of why he’s so bothered is the mystery of it all.”
“The mystery?”
“Me showing up at Greenbacks. Being gone fortwo whole days. Oh, that reminds me of something else I wanted to tell you. The detective told me yesterday that I was apparently roaming around the East Village on at least one of those days I was gone.”
“The detective in Millerstown said that?” Erling’s brow furrows in a rare expression of confusion. “How would she know?”
“Oh, sorry—no, not her. I’m talking about Kurt Mulroney, the private detective I’m using.”
She still looks confused. “You hadn’t mentioned you were hiring anyone,” she says.
“Sorry, I guess I decided to hire him since I saw you last. It just seemed like the smart thing to do since my memory refuses to budge, and this way, I’ll at least know where I was. He’s obtaining as much video footage as he can, and so far, he’s been able to determine that I was in the East Village on Wednesday.”
“Why that neighborhood, do you think?”
I explain I have no idea, that the last time I spent any real time there was when I took that night class. I find myself telling her how I liked to have dinner after class in the garden of this little restaurant on East Ninth Street. I’d bring a notebook to scribble in and daydream about life, or sometimes just sit and people-watch.
Erling smiles. “It sounds like the time you spent down there was meaningful to you.”
“Yes,” I say, nodding. “But it was so long ago. And the restaurant I used to eat at closed down.”
“Why don’t you give some thought tonight to what it was like to eat there? Think about the experience of sitting at the table, enjoying your food, watching the other diners, and why you liked it so much.”
“Okay.”
“Have you learned anything else from the investigator?” she asks.
I glance at my watch. There are only a few minutes left to the session, but we still have so much ground to cover.
“Yes, there’s something else that might be important. He figured out that the blood on the tissues—the ones that were in my coat pocket—was a different type than mine. So it’s not from one of my nosebleeds or anything.”
This time it’s Erling who looks off, thinking.
“What do you suppose that means?” she asks, returning her gaze.
“I keep coming back to the idea that I might have witnessed something bad on Tuesday. That I saw someone get hurt or attacked, and I tried to help them, and that’s what made me disassociate, not the fight with Hugh. And that would explain why I needed to borrow a phone.”
“Borrow a phone?”
“Oh, gosh, sorry, I never got to that part the last time.” The sessions are shorter than I wish they were and so much seems to be happening in between. “Remember how I told you I’d called the desk manager at WorkSpace, trying to find someone who knew when our appointment was? I apparently told him I was using someone else’s phone. And so I think I lost mine somehow when this bad thing happened.”
As I’m talking, I feel a trickle of sweat roll down the back of my neck and realize I’ve started to hyperventilate.
“I just wish I could figure it out,” I add. “And that things were better with Hugh, and that I could share some of this with my dad. To make everything worse, my friend Gabby has gone MIA on me. It’s like—”
“Ally,” Erling interrupts, leaning forward. “I want you to take a couple of deep breaths right now. Would you like me to go through the process again?”
