“She showed up for the appointment. When you weren’t here, she went on a major rant. And when I say ‘major,’ I mean she could be heard from Pluto.”
Audra would never pass off blame, unless it didn’t belong to her. “Tess, I phoned the front desk. They said they’d call her.”
“She didn’t get the message in time. Apparently, with having to take her cats home, she had to miss breakfast with the Red Hat Society—which for her, as you well know, is earth-shattering. I would’ve handled the vaccines myself if my morning hadn’t already been packed.”
Audra groaned. After departing from the school later than planned, she’d hit a deadlock on 1-205 and had no option but to cancel. “I’m sorry for missing it, but seriously, the freeway was a parking lot.”
“Believe me, I understand. It wouldn’t have been a big deal except . . .”
Audra steeled herself before asking, “Except?”
“Hector was here.”
A vision of the full scene took shape: Hector Petra, the semiretired Greek vet who’d founded the clinic decades ago, dropped in only on occasion. He had a fairly hands-off style, so long as customer service was up to par.
“And, to make matters worse,” Tess went on, “a reporter from The Oregonian stopped by just then. He was snooping for info about you and Jack.”
Unbelievable. By now the journalistic buzzards should have had other targets to circle.
“What did you tell him?”
“That we had no comment, like you’d asked.”
Audra dropped her shoulders and sighed. “Thank you.”
Tess glanced toward the hall, a confirmation of privacy. She continued in a lowered voice. “When Hector asked, I told him you’d been flying out to see relatives. He bought it, but he’s still concerned about you being distracted. He said you’re welcome to take a few days off if that would help.”
If only a vacation were all Audra needed.
“It’s really not necessary. I appreciate it though.”
“But while you’re waiting for your interview—”
“The spot’s been filled,” Audra informed her, which fully solidified the outcome. “I got the call last night.”
Tess paused, taking this in. “I can’t say I’m entirely sad about that.”
A laugh slipped from Audra’s mouth. She was well aware of her friend’s hope that the plan to relocate was a temporary phase.
“On a serious note,” Tess said. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just need to look for other options, is all.”
Tess tipped her head forward, peering at her. “Sweetie—and I say this with a whole lotta love—you look like doggy doo.” The girl was never one to sugarcoat. “For heaven’s sake, tell me what’s going on. Aside from the job.”
The invitation hung there like the crest of a wave. Audra felt the pull of its tide, anchored to the drawings tucked into her purse. A Nazi in an electric chair. Jack and Audra falling from the sky.
A twist of angst tightened her chest, along with the need to purge. “It’s Jack. He’s been struggling with pretty bad nightmares.”
Tess nodded, waiting for more.
“The school asked me to come in this morning. That’s part of why I was late. They’re worried about some pictures Jack’s been drawing in class. All of them about death.”
A gentle smile played on Tess’s lips. “Oh, yeah. I know that meeting. Been to a couple of them actually.”
“You have?”
Audra didn’t intend to sound so surprised. But the gal was a bionic supermom. PTA President of her daughter’s grade school. Fund-raising co-chair of her son’s lacrosse team. And when it came to baking, she threw off the curve. If she weren’t such a good person, a dozen other moms would have hired a hit on her by now.
“Grace had the same issues,” Tess explained, “back in kindergarten, when Russ was in chemo.”
“My gosh, of course.” Audra should have thought of that.
“She was fascinated by the idea of dying and where we go from here. It lasted quite a while, even after he went into remission. Cooper didn’t say much about it. I think as the older brother—he was in fourth grade at the time—and just from being a boy, he wanted to look like the strong one. But eventually I do remember him having some pretty rough dreams. I guess, sooner or later his brain had to deal with all those emotions.”
Now, three years later, Tess’s husband appeared so healthy, it was easy to forget the challenges the family had faced.
“You know what?” Tess said, a revelation. “That might be why Jack had a problem with flying. Not just from fear of crashing—which tons of adults are scared of, by the way—but having so little control over life.”