Page 42 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

Chapter Thirty-Four

The metro ride back to the hotel was short, considering how long they’d been gone.

The car was crowded, and they had to stand most of the way, holding on for balance.

Veronica looked around at the other riders, mostly young and chatting.

One party of Americans, maybe in their early twenties, were talking too loudly, but were so full of themselves and life and the fact that they were on the metro together that it was impossible not to love them.

One boy had shiny blond hair like Spence once owned, and his girlfriend leaned into him, a little tipsy maybe, her own hair long and shining, healthy with the vibrance of life.

It made her melancholy in a way. She’d flung away that magical time by marrying Spence, having babies so young.

Not that she’d trade the kids. But maybe she wanted a do-over where she had them maybe ten years later, so she could have been free to wander the world like these young adults.

She shook her head. She wouldn’t have had the resources at this age. She didn’t actually have them now. That was the thing that social media conveniently overlooked—it took money to be a vagabond.

#LotsOfItActually

What brought her back to the moment was the scent of Henry, sunny and sharp. Every time she caught a whiff, it sent little erotic messages to various bits of her. Touch me touch me touch me.

She looked up, and he was looking down, and the collision of gazes scattered thoughts of nostalgic speculation right out the window. She didn’t look away this time, and to her deep delight and surprise, he bent down to kiss her lightly. A promise. An acknowledgment.

As they came out of the station, her phone started to ding. And ding, and ding. She ignored it for a while, wanting to keep the world out, but finally she had to pause on the platform. “I’m sorry. I have kids. I probably need to see what’s going on.”

“No worries. Let’s sit over there on that bench.”

She nodded. The wind was sharpening now, the knives of it finding a bit of her neck, her thighs where they were only covered by her pants. Henry sat between her and the wind, and she said, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

She opened the message app. Seventeen new messages. As expected, most of them were from Amber, and the news wasn’t good. It ended with Landlady has a policy against anyone with an ankle bracelet.

sorry can’t help

“Shit, shit, shit,” she said aloud, then tsked. “I thought I’d found a roommate, but the landlord won’t let her in because she has an ankle bracelet.” She scowled. “That’s got to be illegal.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“But what am I going to do to stop her at this distance?”

“Report her?”

She took a breath, feeling the pressure of the problem press down on her breastbone. “I’m afraid she’ll evict me.” She stood. “Never mind. This is not your problem. Sorry.”

“We can talk it out if you want.”

“No, I’ll make some calls when we get back to the hotel.” She gave him a regretful look.

He stood. “It’s all good.”

She felt resentful that her old life, with all the messy loose parts, was interfering with a holiday romp, but she couldn’t let Amber down. Or herself, honestly.

At the hotel, they rode up the elevator silently. Veronica cast around for ways to break the hush but couldn’t come up with anything, and he didn’t, either. They just looked at the light over the doors like strangers, side by side.

In the foyer between the rooms, she said, “Thanks for such a great adventure.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and the sound of his low voice rumbled against the back of her neck. “Hope you get things worked out.”

She nodded and let herself into her room, where she leaned on the door, thinking about what she was giving up in the form of Henry’s skin. Henry’s mouth. She gave herself a solid twenty seconds to feel the vast disappointment, then kicked off her shoes and picked up the phone.

There were other texts, from Jenna and from Tim, but nothing from Spence and nothing from her landlady. Those were voice messages.

She called Amber first, but she didn’t answer, which gave her a pang. She was probably angry, and understandably so. Next she called Spence. “You rang?” she asked. “Gonna send my money after all?”

“You’re a grown woman and can take care of yourself. No, that’s not why I was calling. Ben broke his leg in a bike accident and won’t be able to go skiing. I was wondering when you’ll be home.”

“What? Wait! Is he okay?”

“It’s a straightforward tibia-fibula break, and he should heal fine. He just doesn’t want to go to Breck with everyone skiing.”

“Poor guy. I can’t believe he didn’t call me.”

“He didn’t want to bother you.”

That was sweet. “I need to call him. Was there anything else?”

“He can’t be alone, Ronny.”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do from here.”

“You can’t come home early?”

“No. I’m five thousand miles away.” She felt a sizzle burn up the back of her skull, snap across her nose. “I’m working .”

“Yeah, poor thing, traveling all over, ghostwriting or whatever.”

“It’s actually exactly that. I’m doing research for a ghostwriting project.” The distance gave her a view of her life she’d never seen. “I’m not coming back to babysit my twenty-year-old son when a) he’s perfectly capable, and b) his father is right there and can manage the situation just fine.”

“We leave for Breck tomorrow. It’s a family tradition.”

That stung. She took a breath. “Boy, I do know that much. You need to hammer this out with him. He can stay on his own or he can go with you, or you can stay home and celebrate Christmas with him.”

“Leaving him alone is pretty harsh. It’s Christmas.”

“I get that. But again, you two have to work out how to solve the problem.”

“There’s a lot going on here, Ronny. I can’t go into it right now, but the furnace problem revealed a bunch of other stuff, and Fiona has not been well through this pregnancy, and the kids are on my ass about a million things. I need this break.”

She couldn’t help it—she laughed. “Figure it out. I can’t help you.”

“Ronny!”

She knocked on her desk. “Sorry, gotta go.”

She hung up. And wanted to tell somebody on the planet that she’d just stood up for herself with her absurd ex.

The first thing she had to do was call Ben. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, babe. You broke your leg? How are you?”

“It’s not too bad,” he said. “They gave me some good painkillers for a few days anyway.”

“Be careful with them.”

“No, I thought I’d get addicted and then get a heroin habit.” He scoffed. “Of course I’m careful. You know me. I don’t like to get high, unlike a certain sibling of mine.”

“It’s nice to hear your voice. I’m so surprised you didn’t call when you did it.”

“I know you’re trying to figure things out. I didn’t want to get you all worried. I was pretty sure it was a straightforward break, and I could let you know later. But I guess Dad got there first.”

“He did. You don’t want to go to Breck?”

“No, Mom. Even before the break. There’s all kinds of drama going on.

Fiona barfs every five minutes, and she’s kind of a drama queen, and there’s something wrong with the house, so Dad’s all freaked out, and—I dunno.

It would just be better to hang with my friends who aren’t going home for the holidays.

We’ll have turkey TV dinners and drink a shit ton of beer. ”

She laughed. “Great. Sounds fabulous. I’ll call you on Christmas Day, for sure.”

“Dope.”

“Anything I can do for you from here?”

“Bring me a British movie star. Love that accent.”

Veronica laughed. “I’ll do my best.” She paused, remembering that she hadn’t told her ski-crazy children that she was traveling with Mariah. “By the way, the person I’m traveling with is Mariah Ellsworth, the snowboarder.”

“What? The Olympian? I thought she was killed in the supermarket shooting.”

“No, that was her mom. Mariah was pretty badly injured, which is why I’m helping her.”

“Awesome, Mom. Seriously. Is she nice?”

“Um.” She smiled to herself. “ Nice is the wrong word, but I like her. You would, too.”

“All right, I gotta go. Have fun, Mama.”

“I will. I love you, son.”

“Love you, too.”

She sent a text to Amber, who still hadn’t returned her call. Amber, this sucks so much, but I’m trying to figure out things on my end. The Offer Still Stands , but it’s hard to get things done from this far away. Call me. I’m worried .

Last, she called her landlady, who answered on the third ring.

“Nancy speaking,” she said, like the administrative assistant she’d once been.

She’d saved every spare penny and bought the building in the early nineties, turning it into five apartments at a moment that turned out to be prime.

She’d always been slightly judgmental and nervous.

“Nancy, it’s Veronica Barrington. I heard from my friend that you wouldn’t allow her to share the apartment because she has an ankle bracelet.”

“Well, no, that’s a lie,” she said defensively. “She was not very clean, and she drove a ramshackle wreck of a car. I can’t trust a person like that in my building. This is a nice place.”

“She’s not a criminal,” Veronica said as calmly as she could. More flies with honey, as her mother always said. “She’s just in a hard place right now. She had a bad marriage and is trying to get to a better place.”

“Not my problem. How do you think everybody in the house will feel when they see that house arrest thing on her ankle?”

“It’s illegal for you to refuse her on that condition.”

“Well, it’s not illegal for me to evict you when you haven’t paid the rent.”

“She was going to pay the rent for me until I can get back into the country. I told you this. My husband pulled my alimony, and I’m in Europe on a job. I’ve been a good tenant for a year.”

“I heard through the grapevine that you had a domestic-violence arrest, too. So, two peas in a pod. No, thanks.”

Veronica’s cheeks flamed, and the heat spread to her ears, her scalp, before she could speak.

“I didn’t hurt anyone,” she said. “I lost my temper on a very bad day.” She clenched her jaw.

“That’s stupid, but hardly criminal, and Amber did even less.

” She’d fought back against a husband determined to kill her, but that was none of Nancy’s business.

“I don’t care. You’re out, and if you’re not here to collect your things by the first, I’ll leave them on the lawn.”

“Nancy!” she cried, but the phone was dead.

With a sense of panic, she called Jenna. “Mom, I’m on the way to a meeting. Can this wait?”

“No. My landlady is evicting me, and I need to get my things out of there. I need your help.”

“Mom, I am so swamped right now!”

She felt as if she’d been slapped. “Jenna! I never ask you for anything, and I’m in trouble. I need you to make some calls, find somebody to help get my things out without spending money. Ask Tim to help you. I’ll have to put it all in storage.”

“Maybe this is a sign, Mom. This trip has never been a good idea. Maybe you just need to come home and deal with it.”

“I’m working!”

“So am I! Ben broke his leg, you know.”

“I just heard.” The flames burned around her ears again, touched her eyes. She couldn’t believe her daughter was refusing to help. “But I’m not coming home. I am working .”

“Whatever.” She tsked. “I’ll make some calls. But you have a lot of shit.”

“Not really, but thank you. Let me know. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’m sorry, this is all just a lot.”

“Yeah, it is. I know.” For once, she didn’t say she was sorry.

She didn’t think it was legal for her landlady to evict her on such thin cause.

Thinking of the roomy kitchen, the old walls, it felt like losing the family house all over again.

She chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully, stopping when she bit too hard and realized that she hadn’t shed the habit after all.

To solve all these issues, she just needed to set Mariah down and talk out the contract for the book. Ghostwriting, as Spence said so accurately. Some kind of payment plan, maybe an advance, even a small one, would see her through until she got home.

Was she being greedy? It wasn’t like she knew what she was doing, and she was in Paris, for heaven’s sake, had flown first class, was eating more than luxuriously. To ask for more seemed very cheeky.

Except, a small voice argued back, the arrangement had been for companionship to start with. Taking notes was one thing and she would have been happy to do that part. Doing the groundwork to write Rachel’s planned book was quite another thing entirely.

Rubbing her eyes, she suddenly realized it was nearly midnight and they had a plane to catch in the morning. She’d revisit the thought when she had a fresh brain.