Conversation became sparse as they ate. Charlotte was mostly enjoying her food, but she couldn’t help noticing the pain tightening Marin’s features. She was obviously trying to put on a brave face, but the pain seemed to be getting worse.
When they finished eating, Charlotte offered, “Why don’t you let me clean up the kitchen while you lie down for a bit?”
“I should take a shower, but ...” She winced, again rubbing at her right thigh. “Maybe I’ll lie down first. You don’t need to clean up, though.”
“I got this. Go rest. Are you sure there’s not anything else I can do to help?”
Marin shook her head. “I’ve already taken my medication. Sometimes there are bad days, and there’s not a lot I can do about it. Such is life with chronic pain.”
“I’m sorry.” Charlotte pulled her in for an impulsive hug, loving the way Marin leaned into her and exhaled as if the hug had brought her some comfort. Charlotte never discounted the benefits of a good hug, or of comfort in general. Medicine wasn’t the only way to help someone feel better. Care and compassion went a long way too.
“Thank you,” Marin whispered before she pulled back. She opened the freezer and removed an ice pack, then headed toward her bedroom, walking slowly and with a limp.
It was another harsh reminder of what she’d been through. Yes, she’d survived, but there had obviously been a physical toll to pay. Not for the first time, Charlotte was so grateful that she’d lived.
And that fate had brought them back together.
She cleaned up the remnants of their breakfast, then spent a few minutes tidying Marin’s kitchen. They’d left their pizza plates and wineglasses on the counter last night, both of them exhausted andmore than a little bit drunk by the time they’d gone to bed. She took care of it now, then wiped down the counters.
Once she’d started the dishwasher, she went down the hall and peeked into Marin’s room. She was lying on her left side, her right leg extended straight. The ice pack—one of those cloth-covered gel packs—was draped over her thigh. Her face was tight with pain, her fists clenched in the sheets. Charlotte’s stomach dropped. It hurt to see her in such visible distress.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Marin’s face softened. “Hi. I really didn’t mean for you to clean up my kitchen.”
“I know you didn’t, but I was glad to. What else can I do?”
Marin shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just going to lie here for a bit until it eases.”
“Want company, or would you rather be alone?”
Marin lifted her head, staring at Charlotte in surprise. “You ... you’d stay?”
“Of course,” Charlotte said. “I’ve got another hour or so before I need to get ready for my first appointment of the day. I’d love to stay and distract you from the pain if you think that would be helpful. Now that I’ve reinstalled the app, I could even read your horoscope for you! But if you’d rather be alone and nap or whatever, just tell me to get lost.”
“I’d really like some company, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” Marin spoke softly, hesitantly, as if she wasn’t accustomed to this kind of care. “And a horoscope sounds ... fun.”
“Awesome. Let’s see what the stars have in store for you today.”
On Sunday, Charlotte met her dad for lunch, as had become their routine. After decades of barely speaking, they’d taken the first tentative steps toward rebuilding their relationship since her return toVermont. Today, though, she was semidreading their meeting since she’d have to ask him about Allan Svenson. What if he didn’t know and she ruined his memories of his wife by revealing her affair? By the time she reached the restaurant, she was a nervous mess.
Her dad was already seated at a table by the front window, and she made her way over to him. “Hi, Dad.”
He inclined his head toward her. “Charlotte.”
She shrugged out of her coat and hung it up before she sat. Her dad had on khaki pants and a blue blazer over a crisp white shirt and tie, as if he’d just come from the classroom, although he’d actually come from church. This was his forever uniform, though. She’d never seen him truly dressed down. In fact, she wasn’t even sure he owned jeans.
“Been keeping busy?” he asked. “I can’t imagine many people are looking for houses this time of year.”
“You’d be surprised, actually. It’s been busier than I was expecting.” She’d been a Realtor for almost twenty years, but this was her first time working in Vermont. Also, she was stalling. She fidgeted with her menu, unsure how to even broach the subject.
Luckily or unluckily, the waiter chose that moment to approach their table. Her dad asked for a bottle of sparkling water for the table and ordered a chicken club. Flustered, Charlotte said she’d take the same.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, you seem like you have something on your mind,” her dad observed.
“I got a copy of the report from the sheriff’s department about Mom’s disappearance.”
“Oh.” He sipped from his water, then gave her a piercing look. “Any surprises?”
