didn’t know what to say to comfort her, and he wasn’t sure she was ready to be comforted. It had taken him many years of marriage–and of friendship with this rather intense woman sitting across from him–to realize that sometimes, often actually, women didn’t want you to fix it. They just needed to talk it out.
“A friend of mine, a psych prof at the university, she talks about what she calls healthy denial,” Kate was saying. “I sat in on her lecture on depression one time. She told her class that depressed people are actually more realistic than the rest of us. They realize that bad things really can happen to anyone. They’ve lost their healthy denial, the ability to assume that when they leave the house in the morning nothing bad will happen to them that day. That assumption is what allows us to function on a day-to-day basis, without being constantly afraid and depressed.”
“But in your case,” Rob said softly, putting the pieces together along with her, “you have that denial for yourself, just not for Skip.”
She nodded, her eyes filling again. “Every minute, every single minute I’m away from him, I’m afraid somebody’s going to walk up to me and tell me he’s dead.” She dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief Rob produced. “The only time I know he’s safe is when he’s in my arms. It’s the only time I can relax.”
* * *
Rob drove back to his office after his lunch with Kate. On the sidewalk outside his building, he paused to call a number on his cell phone. He almost disconnected while the phone was ringing. He’d never violated Kate’s confidences before. Was this such a violation? He wasn’t sure.
He got Skip’s voicemail. “Hey, it’s Rob. This case you’re both on. She couldn’t tell me much about it, but for some reason it’s got her spooked. She’s scared for you, my friend.” Rob hesitated. “Don’t tell her I called.”
He was walking into his office when his phone beeped. He looked at the display. You have a new text message. Do you want to read it now?
Rob was technologically challenged. He’d never figured out how to send text messages and wasn’t real sure he ever wanted to. But this was easy enough. He hit OK and the message popped up. Thx, man. I’ll b careful.
* * *
Cherise was not able to cancel the charity concert. Her publicist had thrown a fit at the thought of cancelling so late in the game, her agent informed her over the phone. The charity, the Make A Wish Foundation that tried to fulfill the dreams of children with terminal illnesses, had already incurred expenses. If Cherise backed out now, it would be extremely bad publicity, instead of good.
When Cherise told the agent, Jannine Welsh, the reason she wanted to cancel, Jannie threw a fit of her own. “What do you mean you’ve been getting threatening notes from somebody? And you didn’t even tell me, ” she yelled in Cherise’s ear.
“No, I didn’t tell you because I was afraid Jim would try to turn it into a publicity stunt, and then every other wacko in the world would have played copycat. And don’t you dare tell him.”
“Okay, okay, you’re right. Jim Bolton would find a way to leak it to the press,” Jannie admitted. “So I won’t tell him, but he’s also right, Cherise. You can’t cancel. It would totally blow your image as the sweet wholesome gal who loves puppy dogs and kids.”
“Actually I’m a cat person and I can’t stand anybody under nineteen,” Cherise said acidly.
“I know that, lovey, but the world doesn’t, and we want to keep it that way. So you have to do the concert. But we can shorten your part by a few songs, just one long set, no