Before I can stop myself, I stand and wrap my arms around her neck. “Thank you, Marcia. You’re the best, and I appreciate this more than you’ll ever know.”
She hugs me tentatively at first, and I worry that I’ve way overstepped my bounds. But then her arms tighten around me just before I feel her body shake slightly. A soft, strangled cry follows and I’m not sure what to do. I’ve always known that she looks at me as a daughter, but I didn’t realize my predicament bothered her so much.
“Don’t worry about me, Marcia. I’ll be all right. After a few days at the river’s edge, I bet I’ll be ready to come back to work early.”
She sniffles and pulls away from me. “Don’t even think about doing that. You’re staying the whole time. Then we’ll talk about how you’re doing.”
We spend the next hour making arrangements for my absence both at work and from my apartment, along with my travel arrangements to Georgia. Marcia’s assistant is the most organized and thorough person I’ve ever met. It would’ve taken me all day to handle what she’s completed in no time. The corporate jet will take me to the small airport closest to Oak Grove, where a company car will be waiting for my use. Now all that’s left to do is go to my apartment, pack my clothes, and mentally prepare myself for my flight tomorrow.
Marcia must see the apprehension and anxiety written all over my face. I suspect my feelings would only be hidden from a blind person. “Here’s the name and number of the Realtor who manages my property,” she says as she quickly scribbles it on my notepad. “Call me when you get settled in so I know you’re all right. Then, have some fun, let go of the stress, and enjoy your stay. Don’t stay cooped up in the house.”
My gaze falls to the paper in my hand as I nod in agreement. “Marcia, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. Or how guilty I feel because I don’t deserve this. I can’t imagine you’d do this for just anyone.”
“You’ve never been just anyone to me, Layne,” she admits in her soft voice. “You’ve always been more like a daughter to me.”
Though I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes, I hear and feel the reassurance in her voice. It washes over me and covers me like a comfortable, secure blanket. Memories it evokes are even harder to cope with than my feelings toward Bobby and Cyndi. Wishes that my mom were still here to hold me, comfort me, and tell me how to make it all better flood my heart and soul. The softball-sized lump in my throat prevents me from replying verbally, but I’m sure she sees the love and appreciation I have for her when I finally look up at her.
“Go now, before you make me ruin my mascara,” she says jokingly, making me laugh again.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promise. There’s no way I can say the word “good-bye” right now. “And probably every day after that.”
When I walk into the lobby of my apartment building, the most efficient assistant in the world has already briefed the security guards on my sabbatical. They’ve assured me they will make certain everything is taken care of, so that when I return, it’ll be as if I never even left. A big part of me hopes that’s not entirely true. When I get back, I hope this empty hole where my heart used to be has been repaired.
“Laynie, baby.”
A voice calls out to me tentatively as I turn away from the security desk, and it makes me stop dead in my tracks. A slow-motion movie effect seems to have been utilized for this scene as I turn to face the owner of the voice. My eyes innately narrow with intense anger, disgust, and the sharp pain shooting through my chest.
Bobby.
When my brain registers he used the affectionate nickname he always called me, a hard layer of ice forms around my heart, cooling the fire inside that had threatened to consume me just a moment ago. My quickened pulse slows, the breath that seized in my chest resumes normally, and only the extreme disgust remains.
“Are you going somewhere?” His eyes dart back to the security guard. He was obviously eavesdropping on our conversation.
My eyes rake over his abnormally unkempt appearance. The Bobby I’ve known for seven years would never be seen in public with his hair a mess, his clothes disheveled, and an apparent lack of overall hygiene. The scruff on his face is uneven and scraggly. His clothes are wrinkled and the dark circles under his eyes are telltale signs that he hasn’t had much sleep in the last however many days.
From my peripheral vision, I see the security guard straighten his back and square his shoulders, ready to intercede as soon as I give the word. After the day I’ve already had, I just don’t have it in me to go another round with Bobby. Tomorrow, he’ll be literally one thousand miles behind me. For the first time in weeks, I feel the need to put the same distance between us figuratively. My walls are now securely erected around my heart.
I cut my gaze over to the security guard. “Mr. Shaw no longer has any business in my apartment. Can you also see to it that my locks are changed?”