said, “I know you’re still angry with me. I don’t blame you because I’m still angry with myself, and I realize I don’t deserve your understanding and kindness and...whatever, so I really appreciate the way you’ve been treating me.”
How was he supposed to react to that?
“In a quarter mile,” said the British voice of the GPS, “turn right.”
Grant maneuvered onto the off-ramp. So far, he’d done a fair-to-middlin’ job of keeping his feelings in check, but he just wasn’t ready to go there with Rena tonight. Maybe he’d never be ready to get close to her again. In that case, they’d have to find a way to help Rosie understand that they’d always be there, together, for her—even if their marriage ended.
Grant shook his head. How would he explain it to his little girl when he didn’t understand it himself?
The separation had unofficially begun a full year before Rena left for Fenwick Island. It had been her idea to move into the guest room, and while something had told him that if they hoped to salvage what was left of their marriage, he ought to discourage it, he’d let her go. When she suggested moving to Fenwick Island, he’d let her go yet again. Funny thing was, they’d been apart nearly eight months before he’d stopped reaching for her first thing in the morning, to stroke her soft hair, touch her shoulder, run a fingertip down her cheek. Would the old, loving habit resurface once she moved back into their room? In his opinion, she looked her prettiest right after she woke up, with tousled hair and a makeup-free face.
Suddenly, he felt sorry for her—a surprise, since for so long he’d felt little more than bitterness. On the phone earlier, Grant’s mom had made him promise to treat Rena with kindness, as much for his and Rosie’s sake as Rena’s. He’d meant it when he said he didn’t hate her. Oh, he’d tried, but memories of her lyrical voice and the sweetness of her temperament smothered the emotion, just as surely as water douses a fire.
Unfortunately, none of that changed the fact that her carelessness cost him his daughter.
“Are you all right?”
Her voice startled him, and he said, “I’m fine.” He looked over at her. “Why?”
“You’ve barely said a word since we hit the road.”
“Just...just a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty daunting, isn’t it?”
She could say that again.
“If I could spare you all of this...”
Should have thought of that during the field trip.
But that was no way to start things. Not if he hoped to do what was best for Rosie.
“Look. Rena. We’re gonna get through this. We have to—”
“—for Rosie’s sake,” they said together.
One hundred percent truth, he thought. Rosie had been an astute, sensitive child. Even the tiniest spat between him and Rena had the power to put tears in her eyes. Seeing their daughter upset had been all it took to inspire an apology from Rena, even if he’d clearly been in the wrong. Keeping the peace at any cost must have been programmed into her DNA.
Had that changed? Or would Rena still be willing to pay any price to protect Rosie?
If she'd held that mindset that day at the zoo...
ONCE THE NECESSARY interviews and paperwork were complete, Agent Gonzalez handed Grant directions to the psychiatrist’s office. He took note of Rena's thin smile. It was what she'd always done when trying to hide displeasure. Wasn't his fault, was it, that the guy was more comfortable with him than Rena. She could just as easily have stayed in touch with the agent.
“Dr. Robson is better equipped to take care of a kid,” he said, walking them toward the building’s entrance, “so I suggested that she take your little girl over there. Who knows what sort of madness Rosie would see or hear if she hung around the station much longer.”
“We appreciate that,” Grant said, shaking the man’s hand.
“And we appreciate your patience and understanding,” Rena said. “We pretty much bombarded you with questions.”
“Happy to be of service.” The agent handed her a business card. “If you have any more questions, call me. Any time.” He grinned. “Can’t promise I’ll be much help, but I’ll do my level best. I’ll give Detective Campbell a call, get him caught up. He’ll probably want to talk with both of you once you’re settled in, you know, to dot any i’s and cross any t’s we might have missed.”
Grant pressed a palm to Rena’s lower back and guided her toward the parking lot.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” Gonzalez asked.
“Noon. But we can change it if we need to.”
“Don’t worry. Dr. Robson is the best at what she does. She’ll have you out of there in plenty of time to grab a bite to eat and catch a few z’s tonight. Be sure to give yourself plenty of time in the morning, though. O’Hare is a zoo.”
When they reached the psychiatrist’s office, the woman at the reception desk smiled. “May I help you?”
“We’re the VanMeters,” Grant said, “here for our—”
“Yes, of course. The doctor is just wrapping up a session. May I get you anything while you wait? Coffee? Tea? Soda?”
“Water if you have it,” Rena said. “I'm dry as the Sahara.”
The woman reached into a small fridge behind the counter and withdrew two bright blue bottles. “There you go. Make yourselves comfortable. I’m sure Dr. Robson will be with you shortly.”
Grant and Rena sat stiff and quiet on the sofa nearest the reception counter. Seeing that Rena was having trouble opening the bottle, he took it from her and unscrewed the cap.
“Thanks,” she said when he handed it back. “And please don’t tell me I don’t need to say thank-you. It’s a habit. Ungrateful people quickly wear out their welcome, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Especially now.”
Her knee was bouncing out a quick rhythm. She was obviously feeling as keyed up as he was.
“Okay,” he began, “from now on I—”
The door beside the reception desk opened. A gaunt, bearded man exited the office, and close on his heels, a scowling boy of twelve or thirteen. Behind them, a middle-aged redhead said, “See you next week, all right?”
The man nodded and the boy said something unintelligible as they left.
“You must be the VanMeters,” the doctor said. She took a few steps closer and extended her right hand. “I’m Dr. Robson. Please, come right in.”
They sat in the overstuffed leather chairs
