They were all silent, before Elshona spoke once more. “You know, I asked him once what it was like. This was years ago. I'd just emigrated. He did all that, you know. Bought my plane ticket to come here, to open this place with him. Sponsored me, gave me a place to live. We almost killed each other. But we were sitting on the roof one night and I asked him what it was like to just . . . go on the other side. He said it was like drowning. People think when you're drowning you're kicking and screamin', makin' a right racket to attract attention. He said to me, ‘Shona, that's no' what it's like at all. If you're able to scream for help, you're still breathin'. When you drown, it's silent. Nobody notices because you're already gone.’ Lamby, if he told you not to wait for him, then don't. There's nothing to be done. All we can do is make our peace with it and be glad they're not comin' for the rest of us."
Ainsley decided, for the first time in two weeks, that he needed some time alone. Ris almost choked on her laughter. “Really? Now?Nowyou need time alone?”
She’d not argued, too frustrated with the situation and desperately possessed with the need to go home and shower it all away.
First, though, she needed to bring Silva home.
"Silva," she murmured, reaching out for the younger elf's hand once they had reached her building. "Sweetie, saying I'm sorry doesn't hack it. I can imagine what you must be feeling rightnow." Silva only nodded, saying nothing. "Come on, let’s get you inside. Unless . . . Would you rather go to your mom's?"
"No."
She said nothing more, getting out of the car. Ris sighed in exasperation, quickly following behind. A cursory exploration of the kitchen showed the younger elf was out of virtually everything.
"I'm going to have groceries delivered for you, okay? You need to eat. You need to keep up your strength. I’m really worried that you’ve been laying here for two weeks not taking care of yourself. First though, I'm going to order you dinner tonight. Do you want something from that little place by the bookstore?"
"A steak. Can I have a steak? Rare. As rare as they can make it. I don't care about the sides, whatever it comes with. Here, let me get you my credit card . . ."
It was the shock, Ris told herself. Surely, it was the shock. "Don't worry about your credit card, I've got this. Fuck, do you have any painkillers? If you’re like me, my brain is trying to eat its way through my forehead." She located them in the kitchen, on a little shelf above the sink.
"Can I have some of those?" Silva asked, holding out her hand. Her perfect eyebrows turned down in confusion when Ris shook a handful into her hand. "Just three, it says on the label."
Ris Shook out her own handful, fishing ut an extra for good measure. "Yeah, that's the dosage for humans."
It was Silva's turn to look confused. "What-what do you mean?"
Ris was flummoxed. "Silva, everything they sell in the store, it's formulated for humans. Not for us. We have to take twice as much for it to work."
Silva looked down at the floor, her eyebrows still together in a look of consternation. "Is that why they don’t work sometimes? I-I used to get everything from the pharmacy in the enclave. Orfrom Ta—” her voice wavered over his name, and Ris was certain Silva was about to vomit on the floor. “. . . he always had some in his apartment. I only just started buying this stuff in town since I’ve been back to work this month. What – what about doctors? If we go to a human doctor . . .?"
"Probably don't believe anything they tell you," Ris said, feeling a bit exasperated that they even needed to have this conversation.
Remember what you told Ainsley's mom? She is still a baby in the grand scheme of things. This is the first time she's been on her own, be patient.
"You should probably avoid going to human doctors in the first place," she continued in a gentler tone. "It's well documented that they really only know how to treat themselves. They underdiagnose and misdiagnose other species all the time. And like I said, almost all medication is formulated for them. Everything. Painkillers, birth control, allergy suppressants. We have to take twice as much. You haven't been going to a human doctor, have you?"
Silva shook her head slowly, accepting the eight pills Ris handed her. "Once. When I was in school. I came to Bridgeton for . . . It-it was just the once."
Ris trailed behind as Silva walked like a zombie back to her living room, sinking down onto her sofa. "Look . . . I'm gonna put in for vacation time for you, okay? I don't know how much I can get away with. You need time to process this, I get it. Silva, this is a mindfuck. If you need anyone to talk to, no matter what time it is, please just pick up the phone and call me. I'll come by and check on you tomorrow, okay?"
Ris waited until the food was delivered, ensuring that it was taken out of the boxes, and that Silva would actually eat.
"I'm gonna pop in tomorrow after work, okay? Remember what I said. Just pick up the phone and call me if you needanything, or if you just want to cry. This whole thing is a mess. It's okay if you don't know how to feel."
Ris hightailed it across the parking lot, sliding behind the wheel of her car, almost surprised to find that it was still daylight. She felt as if she had just lived three lifetimes in that cramped, tension-filled office.Fucking Tate. He really was a switchblade rabbit.She wanted to go home. She wanted to wash away the stress of this day and the nagging feeling that she and Ainsley were going to need to have a conversation about everything, but first . . .
She cocked her head, considering. She had tried to be as good of a friend to Silva as she could that day, all things considered.And you’ve been a completely shitty friend to Lurielle.Her shower could wait. This was not gossip that would keep until morning.
"Hey," she said into the phone, as soon as Lurielle answered. "Are you home yet? Are you alone? Okay, perfect. I'm on my way over. You are never going to believe the fucking shit show I've been in the middle of all day."
Lurielle
The previous spring, she had attended a two-day workshop held right there in town, at the community center. Lurielle had scoffed initially when Ris invited her along, finding the guru-like messaging on the flier her friend produced to be a bit woo woo for her particular beliefs, but, as Ris as pointed out, they didn’t need to return the second day if it turned out to be way to get them to buy essential oils — or worse, sell essential oils themselves.
The experience hadn’t been nearly as new age woo as she'd feared. She could admit when she was wrong, and if Lurielle was honest with herself, which she tried to be, she had enjoyed the workshop quite a bit. Silva and Dynah had both joined them for the first day, and the four elves had repaired to the Black Sheep Beanery immediately after, to discuss their learnings.
That there were no accidental meetings, the serene-voiced Sylvan had told them. Every person who came into one's life was there with a purpose – to teach or inspire, to challenge or elevate, to hold up a mirror to one's flaws. She had chuckledto herself over that last bit at the time, thinking of Rourke and Khash.That’s it. That’s why we’re neighbors. So those idiots can dance around each other with their mirrors.She'd shared the concept with Despina in therapy, and it was one that she'd revisited often.
Lurielle possessed not a single shred of doubt in her mind that Grace, the human events coordinator and social media manager for Saddlethorne Farm, had been placed in her path as a lifeline.
