I’m on the schedule for the next five days, and this will leave him short. I actually like my job at the deli, and I hate knowing that he’ll need to hire someone to replace me.
“It’s got all of those safety gadgets,” Kelsey says, “like the autopilot lane control and sensors. Not that I’ve ever tried them, but Casey said they were useful. Oh, and I forgot to check the gas tank. Hopefully it will be enough to get you there, but if not, there should be plenty of stations along the way.”
“Um . . . on the way to where?” I ask.
“My beach cottage. It’s about an hour away. I don’t go often, now that Barbara is gone. Mostly, I rent it out, but there’s no one scheduled until Thanksgiving. If things aren’t . . .” She stops for a moment, and a worried frown creases her brow. “If things aren’t sorted out by then, we’ll figure something else out. Just tell the GPS Cottage and it will navigate for you.” She presses the keys and some money into my hand. “I’ll e-mail you the QR code for the security system and the wi-fi. And this is all the cash I had on me, about a hundred and twenty dollars.”
“Kelsey, I appreciate the loan. We’ll get it back to you. But we should just take the bus or train. You could get into trouble.”
“Anna, look at me. The worst that will happen if I’m implicated is that I retire a few months earlier than planned. So what? If your lives are in danger, crossing ethical boundaries is the least of my concerns.”
As if to emphasize that point, she reaches out to pull both me and Deo into a hug.
Kelsey doesn’t hug . . . or perhaps I should say she doesn’t hug clients. She has made an exception exactly once, when I was seven and had just gotten rid of that creep Myron. On that occasion, she pulled me into her lap and held me while I cried. I remember it vividly—the feel of her sweater against my damp cheek, the way she smelled like vanilla, and the way she rocked me back and forth, whispering shh over and over as she smoothed my hair.
At my next appointment, she spent the first five minutes apologizing. She explained how her behavior at the previous session was a violation of the rules of her profession and a violation of my trust. And she promised she’d never cross that line again. I told her I understood, and I kind of did, even back then. But I still thought those rules were stupid. I’m pretty sure Kelsey thought they were stupid, too. I needed someone to hold me that day, and if not Kelsey, then who?
Her shoulders feel thinner now, more fragile. But she still smells like vanilla.
“Just go,” she says, when she breaks away. “Don’t worry about me. I haven’t taken a personal day in three years, and I’m about to make up for that. A car will arrive in about an hour to take me to the airport, and I’ll catch the five-fifteen flight to Indianapolis to spend some time with my daughter. I’ve already bought the ticket and canceled my appointments for the next few days, so don’t argue with me.”
I open my mouth to do exactly that, but we have so few options. And she seems to have everything arranged.
“Thank you.” I slide behind the wheel and close my eyes for a few seconds to see what I can find in my collected memories of driving. I skip past Abner, the handyman with a DUI, and past a few more who probably never drove a modern vehicle with a GPS or power everything. Arlene Bennett, however, in addition to driving to work, and to her multitude of doctor’s appointments, ran her kids to ballet, soccer, and everything else under the sun. The last time she drove was in early 2017, and that’s about as close as I’m going to get to perfect.
Anna, this is a bad idea.
My puttering around in the files seems to have stirred Molly up. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean driving is a bad idea. She means leaving DC, leaving her buddies who are trying to find Lucas and Cregg. And I do feel a tiny twinge of conscience. But I’m not safe here and I don’t think Deo is safe here, either. Staying isn’t an option.
Kelsey taps on the window. “Call my cell from the cottage phone when you arrive so I’ll know you’ve made it. I’ll either be in the cab or at the airport.” She nods toward the backseat. “There are a few bags of food there, just some things I had in the house. Coffee is in the travel mug. Deo, I’m counting on you to keep up a steady chatter so that Anna stays awake.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gives her a mock salute as I begin backing the car down the driveway.
And, just as Deo predicted, driving is a snap. A few minutes later, we’re on the Beltway, and I shift lanes smoothly with the flow of the traffic. It’s second nature, just like ice-skating.
Around one forty, I pull Kelsey’s dark-red Volvo into a gas station on Chesapeake Beach Road. The indicator is nearly on empty with about twenty miles left to go, and I’m not sure how many more stations will be open this late. I add twenty dollars of gas to the tank while Deo runs inside to pay and grab drinks.
He’s holding a bottle of water for me and one of those fruit-tea concoctions he likes when I meet him at the door.