Leanne grimaced. “I know that was hard to deal with.”
“It was,” I admitted. “Then in the afternoon, I got called to the ER. I have a new case involving a toddler with suspicious injuries.”
“Darn it, Jules. How could people hurt kids?”
“I’ll never understand it for as long as I live.” I took a sip of wine. “The day wasn’t all bad. I saw one of my new clients today—a little boy who lost his parents in a car accident. This will be an easy one, mostly paperwork. His godfather is his temporary guardian. They came by the office, and the boy wasn’t talking or eating, but I got him to eat some ice cream, and he seemed in slightly better spirits when he left.”
“That’s good news. Poor kid. He must be so traumatized.”
“He is, and his guardian seems a little out of his depth, but he’s trying, and that’s what’s important.”
“We’re all trying,” Leanne said, pouring herself a glass of wine. “I’m not surprised the little boy was better after spending time with you. You were born for this work. You’re so good with kids. I know you’ve heard me say this before, but you’d make a great mom. You should reconsider having children.”
“Bite your tongue.”
“Oh come on, being a parent is not that bad. You’re practically doing the work now with all your cases. You need one or two of your own.” A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.
Holding up my hands, I crossed my fingers, as if warding off a vampire.
“Would you stop!” She slapped my hands down. “I’m being serious. You’re a natural.”
“It’s one thing to be fun Aunt Julia or Ms. Richmond, the child advocate. Motherhood is completely different and is too much responsibility. I like kids. I loveyourkids, but I want zero, zed, nada—none of my own. The stress would probably kill me. Now, enough about me.” I dropped my voice. “Have you heard from Owen?”
Her smile faltered, and I immediately regretted bringing him up.
She stared into her glass of wine. “He texted this morning and asked how the girls are doing. He didn’t ask aboutme. Just the girls.”
“You know that doesn’t mean anything, right? Most men are idiots.”
She sighed. “I love him, Jules. Really, I do, but I’m not going to be invisible in my own marriage and taken for granted. I’m a person, not just someone who manages the house and keeps the kids fed. I have a degree—one I set aside to be a wife and mother, and instead of showing his appreciation, he acts as if he’s entitled to my time and labor. He got comfortable. Complacent. At least, that’s what I thought. What if he doesn’t miss me? What if he’s glad I’m gone?” Her voice shook.
“Of course he misses you. You and the girls,” I said.
“I’m not so sure. I left three weeks ago, and he hasn’t asked me to come home.”
I stretched across the counter and opened my hands. She placed her hands in mine.
Squeezing her fingers reassuringly, I asked, “Do you regret leaving?”
“No, but...” She sighed.
“He’ll come around once he realizes what he’ll lose if you don’t go home.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“When am I ever wrong?”
We both laughed.
Leanne withdrew her hands. “I hope you’re hungry. I have to prepare the salad, and then dinner will be ready.”
“Eat without me. I’m not very hungry.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll fix a plate when I’m ready. In the meantime, I’m getting out of these clothes.” I didn’t have much of an appetite after the cases I’d dealt with today. And I was tired.
When I closed the door of my bedroom, it was like sealing myself into a vault. With more people in the apartment, my bedroom had become a sanctuary of pastel colors—mostly pink, lilac, and powder blue.
