Page 37 of I Know She Was There

“I was worried,” she said. “Haven’t seen much of you, and I suspect you’ve been a little down.”

I rubbed the tension out of the back of my neck.Honey, you don’t know the half of it.I should’ve tell her about the bleeding woman I saw in the window; shared my fear about having my house broken into. But I didn’t open my mouth. I couldn’t. Tasha worked in the same office complex as Tim. They were friendly. If the break-in got back to him, he’d have a reason to take Emmy away. My heart turned over, doing weird flips in my chest. If I didn’t have my child, I’d be completely alone.

“I know our last chat ended badly,” she began. Her voice was tentative, as though hoping I’d interrupt. “I’m sorry about that. I know a lot is going on with you. I realize you’re still adjusting to your new life. There’s no telling how long that will take.”

I looked at her, at her smooth, shapely legs crossed casually beneath her slim skirt. She sat so confidently at my tiny kitchen table, her skin glowing, and her dark curls shining amid the shabby surroundings of my life.

“I don’t want to sound crass, Tasha, but you can’t relate. Your marriage is successful. You’re not handling everything on your own?—”

“Of course, you’re right,” she interrupted, reaching out to me with one hand. “I never meant to come off sounding like a know-it-all or unsympathetic. I’m trying to understand what you’re going through.”

“Thank you,” I said tightly, realizing she couldn’t possibly understand my life. I wasn’t even sure why she’d want to. “Let’s talk about something happier, shall we? We never talk about you. Are your twins enjoying the pool this summer?”

Her face softened. “Yes, and I’m more relaxed this year, now that they both know how to swim. Drowning is one of the top causes of death for toddlers and infants...” She sat back suddenly, her face taking on a grayish hue.

“What’s wrong?” I took a step toward her. “Are you okay?”

She took a quick sip of tea, looking down. As she replaced the cup on the tabletop, she smiled up at me. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“It’s just, you know, upsetting to think of children drowning.”

“Yes.” I turned away, my body trembling at the thought. Opening the glass cabinet, I added, “I hear about drownings all the time on the news. Parents need to be more attentive.” I plucked a glass from the lowest shelf and poured the water into it, a strange tightness in my chest.

I turned back to Tasha. She met my gaze as if afraid to make the connection. “I suppose they do, but I’m sorry to bring it up, given your history?—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “My dad drowned a long time ago. As I’ve told you before, I don’t even remember it very well. It’s sad, but it’s in my past.” I couldn’t believe we had circled back to this topicagain.Even when we weren’t trying to talk about my past, there it was.

“Okay,” she said, pausing, as if she wanted to say more but was unsure of how to go about it.

“I mean, I would have been one of those drowned kids, if my dad hadn’t saved me that day.”

“You remember that? Everett saving you?”

I shook my head. “No, as I’ve said before, my mom told me what happened.”

“That’s right.”

When Tasha said no more, just looked at me as if expecting some sort of explanation, I blinked. “I was six years old. I don’t recall much of anything from that time.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t remember,” she said hastily. “The event happened more than twenty years ago, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, suddenly hearing Emmy crying. I startled, took a few steps forward before I remembered she was with Tim. Strange how clear her voice had sounded. I pressed my fingers to my temples, feeling a sharp stabbing pain. Probably the remnant of the bump on my head.

“Are you all right?” asked Tasha.

“I don’t think so,” I said, massaging my temples with my fingertips. “I feel a migraine coming on.”

“I have some ibuprofen in my bag?—”

“That won’t work,” I interrupted. “I have prescription meds. Nothing else can touch the pain.”

“Oh, no,” she said, standing up. “I’d better let you get your medicine. Time is of the essence with migraines, I know. I get them too.” She plucked her Louis Vuitton from its spot on the floor next to the kitchen chair. “I’ll be on my way. Get some meds and some rest.”

I followed her to my front door and watched her let herself out. Before she closed the door behind her, she swung back and looked at me as though she had something vital to say. Her gaze locked with mine and her expression was serious when she said, “Feel better, Caroline.”

“Thanks.” I mumbled, feeling as if that hadn’t been what she’d wanted to say at all.

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