Page 50 of The Kidnapped

“Kenna, I don’t imagine she’s even remotely thinking about being with anyone. Her focus is on finding Eden, which is where it should be.”

“And your focus is on Raleigh?”

“No. Well, sometimes,” she admitted. “But it’s on my mom and work, too, which is where it should be.”

“She’s not given you any signals that she might feel the same?” Kenna asked.

Hollis took a drink of her water and said, “Not signals, exactly, but she touches me sometimes.”

Kenna lifted an eyebrow.

“Not like that,” Hollis added. “Just like the night she stopped by the hospital – well, the second night she stopped by – anyway, she woke me up by massaging the back of my neck.”

“She stopped by the hospital? When your mom fell?”

“Yes. And she was great. She helped me out.” Hollis shrugged as if it hadn’t been a big deal, but to her, it had been the biggest of deals.

“So, she massaged your neck?”

“And she does other stuff like that, too, but it’s not romantic or anything. It’s just part of who she is, I think.”

“You’ve seen her massage someone else’s neck?”

“No, but the only people I’ve seen her with are the support group, my mother, and Dylan. Ada joined us, too, for about five minutes, but I’m pretty sure if Raleigh tried to massage Dylan’s neck, Ada would snap her arm off and beat her with it.”

Kenna laughed and said, “You’re probably right.”

“Raleigh’s great,” Hollis added. “She’s beautiful, and I like spending time with her.”

“But you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“Kenna, I live with my mother, who is sick and needs me whenever I’m not at work. I have next to no money, an apartment in another country that’s gathering dust, a father who’s in jail pending trial for taking me away from my mom, and about thirty years of baggage that I should probably be going to therapy to deal with. What the hell could I possibly offer someone like Raleigh?”

“Yourself,” Kenna replied as if it was the easiest thing in the world to see. “No one ever has it put-together, no matter what lies they tell on social media or to themselves. Ripley and I fight all the time. Sometimes, it’s about real things. Other times, it’s stupid stuff that we get over almost right away. Neither of us has our shit together, and we’re raising a person, Hollis. Every day, we try our best to set good examples for her, but sometimes, just waking up and putting on matching shoes is too much to ask. Being with someone isn’t about an apartment or therapy. It’s about going all-in with them, warts and all. It’s showing up every day, being grateful that the person you love most loves you back, and making sure they know that you love them back. You wake up with them and think that getting through the day will be hard, but it’s also easier just because they’re right there. It’s never perfect, but that’s the best part. When I open my eyes and look at my wife in the morning, sometimes, she’s snoring and has that little nose strip on.” Kenna mimed where the strip would go on her own nose. “It’s really cute.” She laughed a little. “Other times, she’s got a little drool on her chin. I wake her up, and she rolls away and kind of smacks me accidentally when she does because life is not a romantic comedy, but it’s my life, and I wouldn’t change any of it for anything ever.”

“Ripley is your wife. I’m not even in love with Raleigh.”

“Maybe not. All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t stop yourself from going after something you want – or, in this case, someone you want – because you’re worried you’re not enough. The key is finding the person who sees you as enough for them.”

Hollis thought about that as she finished her lunch. Then, they drove back to the office, and Kenna went into a meeting, leaving Hollis to continue thinking about Raleigh and how nice it had been, having someone next to her in bed, even though they’d only slept. That had been the best part: Hollis had actually slept. And when they’d woken up the next morning, she’d asked Raleigh how she’d slept, and Raleigh had said better than it had been in a long time. That meant something, right?

???

“Hey,” she said into her phone, which was on speaker, as she drove home after work.

“Hi. What are you up to?” Raleigh asked, sounding chipper.

“Driving home. I was going to pick up some food for dinner on my way there, and I thought that since you and my mother seem to love picking on me together, I’d invite you to join us.” Hollis closed her eyes for a second, which was a bad idea because she was driving, but she was nervous.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m actually heading out right now.”

“No problem,” she replied, opening her eyes at the rejection.

“Maybe another night this week?” Raleigh suggested.

“Up to you. I just thought I’d ask.”

“I’m going to Dylan’s, Hollis. She asked if I could go to her place this time to talk about the case.”

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