Page 46 of Fluffed and Folded

“Oh,” Eli said, with dawning remembrance. “Right. We should go there.”

“Go where?” Darby asked. She sat down, suddenly feeling the weight of all the last few days of lost sleep, plus major surgery.

Eli, immediately tuned in to her distress, sank beside her on the couch and rested a comforting hand on her back. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” she said, but it sounded like a question. “Go where?”

“My uncle has a house in the country. We can stay there a couple of days, until Tristan gets a handle on things. If you’re up for it?”

Was she up for it? “I think so,” she said, but it once again sounded like a question. Her gaze slid around her apartment with undisguised anxiety. She hadn’t left its confines since Ham died, at least not overnight, minus the hospital. Going away now added to her disorientation.

Eli was still rubbing that soothing pattern on her back, and it felt better than anything Darby could remember. “Josie can help you pack.”

She froze. “I can do it; I don’t need help.” She could barely move; she needed all the help.

“Josie can help you pack,” Eli repeated in a tone that was friendly but insistent.

“Absolutely,” Josie beamed. The way she held out her hand for Darby made her remember she taught kindergarten. This must be how those children felt when faced with Josie’s enthusiastic smile, like you’d be personally letting her down, if you refused. Darby put her hand out and allowed herself to be pulled up and herded to her bedroom. Josie led her to the bed. “Now, you lie down while I get some things together. You can tell me what to pack, okay?” It was the overly bright teacher voice again. That probably should have grated on Darby’s nerves. Usually it might, but in light of the situation, and her abject helplessness, it was soothing.

“I don’t care what you pack, whatever you think. You probably know better than I do.” In truth, she was too exhausted to make a decision about anything, even what she would wear in the next few days.

“Okay,” Josie smiled, actually smiled while she spoke.

“You and Eli must have had a nice friend group,” Darby noted. She didn’t know much about them, but she knew they’d been friends since high school, because Eli told her.

“We totally do, except Gabe. Have you met Gabe yet?”

“No,” Darby said. She couldn’t imagine a scenario where she would meet more of their friends. That didn’t make her sad, did it?

“Please don’t judge us, when you do. Eli and I are loyal, maybe too much sometimes.” She tucked various things in a suitcase that hadn’t been used in far too many years.

“Your boyfriend adores you,” Darby noted, watching Josie work.

“It’s mutual,” Josie agreed, with a smile.

Darby felt another untoward stab of sadness that baffled her. She had sworn off men. She didn’t want what Josie and Tristan had. Did she? Hadn’t she already had her turn, with Ham? Had things ever been that way, with her and Ham? She tried hard to remember and couldn’t. She was hard pressed to say anything negative about her husband, and yet something had been lacking, something she couldn’t put her finger on. Worse, she hadn’t realized it until lately, until after she met Eli.

Ham had been a nice guy, a good guy. He’d been generous and funny and charming. But in their relationship, he’d also been the child, in a lot of ways. He had wanted Darby’s full attention and focus, had wanted her to dote on him, serve him, fawn over him. And she, not knowing any better, thought that was the way it was supposed to be. Their relationship lifted her out of a poverty cycle she was otherwise unable to break, butit had exhausted her, had drained her of resources. No wonder Ham hadn’t wanted her to work or go to college; he had been her fulltime career. He wanted her at his beck and call, not just to cook and clean and have sex; she had certainly been more to him than a maid and high-price call girl. He had genuinely enjoyed being with her, watching television, playing games, taking little excursions. Ham had been full of life and adventure, and he had dragged Darby along for the ride. Since he was retired and earned passive income from the apartment building, as well as his investments, he was free to travel at the drop of a hat, which they did, frequently jetting off to New England, or Canada, or the beach. Before he died, he’d been planning an epic road trip out west. After he passed, Darby hadn’t even considered going anywhere on her own and, if she were being honest, hadn’t mourned the loss of that last trip. What did that say about her? Was she that boring, that chained to her home and her routine?

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Josie noted, warm concern in her tone. She came closer to the bed and sat down. “You’ve been through a lot. Can I help in any way? Can I get you something that might help you feel better?”

To Darby’s embarrassment, tears flooded her eyes. Before Eli, it had been years before a man expressed interest or care in her wellbeing, but it had been even longer since a woman did it. Her mom was too busy with her own survival to concern herself with Darby, whom she considered safe and out of harm’s way, now that she was financially covered. She shook her head, brushing the tears away. “I’m okay.” How many times had she said that in her life? How many times had she believed it? She didn’t now. She was not okay, and she had no idea what to do with that information.

Josie gave her a sympathetic smile, one that said she saw more than Darby wanted her to see, that she probably sawbehind the façade. “Well, you’re in good hands with Eli. He’ll take good care of you. He’s a great friend.”

Darby gave a little nod and sniff and then blurted, “He is, but I’m not sure I am. I…haven’t had a lot of friends.”

Far from being shocked or repulsed by the confession, Josie lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “People are good at different things. Tristan would never classify himself as a people person, but he’s an amazing boyfriend. You’ll figure it out.”

Darby took a steadying breath, trying hard to pull herself together, as Eli poked his head around the corner. For a beat, his eyes dimmed with concern as they drifted to Josie, perched on the edge of the bed, and Darby, lying beside her. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” Josie assured him. “Darby’s tired and in need of some country refreshment.”

“Well, all right,” he said, finding his smile again. “Quick question, Darby, how do you feel about goats?”

“On the farm, good. On the plate, bad,” she said.

“We’ll talk on the way,” he assured her, reaching out for the suitcase Josie handed over.

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