Page 135 of Dying to Meet You

“Maybe she did,” Natalie says. “That’s why she looks so pleased with herself.”

I wish.

“Let’s eat something. I’m starved,” my daughter says.

We troop down to the kitchen, where she opens the fridge. I eye the contents with suspicion. Nothing feels safe anymore.

“I have to be at work at four,” Natalie says. “I’m training to be an expediter.”

“At Docksiders,” I repeat, because it still doesn’t sit right with me.

“Yup.”

My head gives a throb. “Why did it have to be there?”

“Family tradition.” She snickers. “No—it was just easy. Cal Baxter didn’t even make me fill out an application. And I’ll get to work with Dad.” She pulls the leftover tomato soup out of the fridge.

“Was it his idea?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t ask him first, because Cal has done him so many favors lately. But he also said how bad they need help, so... ?” She pulls two bowls out of the cabinet. “You want soup, right? It’ssogood.”

I’m too tired to argue, and too emotionally drained to think about the ways Harrison is worming into our lives. “And you’resurehe wasn’t here when you left today, right?”

She frowns over her shoulder. “Of course I’m sure. He was in the Docksiders kitchen washing lettuce and cutting fries.”

“Okay. Sorry. I had to ask.”

***

After our late lunch, I don’t go back to work.

Natalie heads to Docksiders in a black denim skirt and Docksiders T-shirt. It’s eerie. Like I’m looking at my younger self.

I warn her several times to be careful. “We have to lock the doors, no matter what.”

She pulls a hurt face and mumbles that sheknows. Then she leaves, disgruntled, and I’m alone in the quiet house, lying on the sofa and feeling vulnerable.

Zoe the cat has perched in the center of Lickie’s dog bed, possibly to assert her dominance. So Lickie chooses to plop herself near the couch, where we both listen to the gentle creak of the clapboards expanding in the afternoon sun.

Beatrice texts, asking where I am and what happened.

I don’t answer. I don’t want to explain the break-in. And I don’t want her talking to Hank about this.

He knows where I live, and he also knew I’d be at work today.

I take another lap around the house, scrutinizing everything in it. It doesn’t help, because my imagination works overtime.Was my closet door ajar like that?Probably. Or maybe the cops opened it making sure nobody was in there.Were those curtains open this morning? Or did an intruder do that? Is that where I set down my toothbrush?

And so on.

I make myself sit down on the sofa again, even though I’m restless. I open the FriendFinder app and see Natalie’s dot at Docksiders. At least I don’t have to worry about her for a few hours.

My phone chimes with a new text, and I expect Beatrice again. But it’s Harrison.

Harrison: I’m about to unlock the door and come in.

Barely a second after I read this, I hear his footfalls on the front porch. The door swings open, and the animals go wild with excitement.

“Ro?” he calls over Lickie’s barking. Then he spots me on the couch. “Hey, are you okay?”