Page 69 of Lotus

“I’m sorry, but I’m not following. Have we met before?” I wonder, my eyebrows pinched and quizzical.

The lighthearted mood wanes, and the smiles fall. The raven-haired female holds out her hand to me. “I’m Tabitha. Tabitha Brighton. This is my friend, Cora.”

I hesitate for just a moment, absorbing the introductions, then take her hand in mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. You’ve seen me on the news, I take it?” It’s the only conclusion that makes sense. My gaze drifts back and forth between the women, noting the way they stiffen at the query. “I don’t get out too much, and I’m certain I’d remember you.”

Realizing my statement comes off as flirtatious, I drop her hand and shuffle my feet, scratching at the back of my head.

Tabitha’s smile returns, her grip on the stroller bar tightening. “I’m aware of your story,” she confirms, studying me fondly. “I visit the library once a week with my daughter, Hope, and we look at the picture books and play with the wooden puzzles. I recognized you right away, but I wasn’t sure if it was my place to introduce myself.”

“Oh. I’m glad you did.”

Oddly enough, that’s true.

“Good,” Tabitha says, her relief escaping as a soft sigh. “I, um… well, I went through something similar. I was also abducted, but my circumstances were very different from yours, from what I’ve seen. Cora and I both suffered at the hands of an evil man, and we know what it’s like to come out on the other side. It can be just as scary, just as harrowing, as the ordeal itself.”

The words process slowly, then hit me like a dull knife. I nearly choke on the lump in my throat as my skin grows clammy, my mouth dry like sand. Unsure of how to respond, I lick my lips and glance at the linoleum flooring beneath my tennis shoes, prompting a warm palm to reach out and squeeze my wrist.

“I’m so sorry if I upset you,” Tabitha says softly, the sweetness of her tone overwrought with apology. “I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone. Cora and I connected through our shared tragedy, and now she’s a dear friend. Good things can be found everywhere… even in our worst nightmares.”

I swallow down the lump, forcing a nod. “Yes, I… thank you. I appreciate the sentiment.”

She releases me just as her baby stirs awake, little feet bouncing beneath a lavender blanket. Tabitha tickles the child’s toes. “Hope is a testament to that,” she murmurs, her words so hushed I almost don’t hear them. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you while you’re working. But if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here every Tuesday at eleven.”

“That’s kind of you,” I reply. My gaze meets Cora’s, pulling a smile from her, the look in her eyes echoing Tabitha’s words. “It was very nice to meet the both of you. Perhaps we can talk over coffee sometime.”

The offer tumbles out of me, unexpected, and I realize too late that it sounds like I’m suggesting a romantic rendezvous.

Gabe would be proud.

I attempt to backpedal, just as Tabitha lights up with affirmation.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’d love to.”

A gulp. “All right. We can reassess next week.”

Reassess. Terrible choice of word. I am most certainly bungling this.

Both women exchange a laugh as Cora glances at her cell phone, then turns to Tabitha. “Dean’s about to call me on his lunch break. We’re figuring out our Thanksgiving plans for this week since everything is kind of new and complicated. Mind if I dip out for a sec?”

“I’ll come with you. I can tell Hope is getting hungry,” Tabitha says to her friend. She glances up at me before retreating, her warm, mocha eyes a striking contrast against her white-as-snow complexion. “I’ll see you next week, Oliver.”

“Yes, I’ll be here,” I confirm, stuffing my hands into my khaki pockets as a nervous smile twitches on my mouth. “Have a good day. Enjoy the book.”

They wave their goodbyes, leaving me standing between the stacks of literature, wondering if anyone has written a story that mimics my complex life.

I could certainly use some direction.

When I return home from my shift that afternoon, still reeling from the encounter with the two women, I pull off my fleece jacket and amble into the bedroom where Athena anxiously awaits my return.

The raccoon has healed up nicely over the past three weeks, allowing me to clean the wound and apply fresh bandages daily, and thankfully, avoiding infection. She is a curious little thing, affectionate and mischievous. Gabe wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me keeping her around for quite so long, insisting the creature would escape and wreck the home, but I’ve managed to keep her entertained for the time being. She only stays crated when I’m at work or at Sydney’s, otherwise she has free reign of the bedroom.

I know it’s time I release her back into the wild, but I’m having a bit of trouble letting go. Attachment may very well be the most detrimental human emotion, and I’m beginning to realize this in more ways than one.

Approaching the medium-sized carrier, I’m greeted with little hands poking through the grates, eager to play and feed. I refill her bowl with raspberries, eggs, baby carrots, and cashews, replace the water dish, then spend some time interacting with her on the floor. Athena sprawls out on my chest as I lie back, her barbed claws prickling me, her squeaks and sounds causing me to erupt with charmed laughs.

I have a date with Sydney tonight—apparently, we are watching a movie calledThe Parent Trapand she is overly delighted to view this particular film with me. She hasn’t told me why, but she said she’s making an abundance of oatmeal cookies to consume while we watch together.

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