not for Leah. She’d still drop by Nellie’s when she needed money—Nellie was a soft touch when it came to trying to fix Ruby’s life.
Whenever Leah heard her mom’s voice, she couldn’t help herself. She’d think, This time she’s come for me. And Leah would race to her room, grab anything she cared about, trying to cram seven tons of hope into a five-pound bag, wash her face, fix her hair, put on her best sunshine smile, anything so Ruby wouldn’t think she was still too much work to love, and she’d dance downstairs to greet her mother, certain this was the day Ruby would take Leah back into her life.
That never happened. Most times Leah was lucky if Ruby even glanced in her direction. No matter how good her grades were or what special presents she’d made and kept safe for Ruby to make up for missed holidays, Ruby never said one word directly to her daughter, too focused on pursuing her transaction with Nellie.
Even now, in her best moments, Leah couldn’t help but wonder, just for an instant, Would she love me now? and it galled her that decades later, that childish wish was still her knee-jerk reaction.
If Leah still wasn’t over her own mother’s abandonment, then how the hell was she going to help Emily get through what happened tonight? Not just seeing her father murdered, not only being terrified for her own life… but Leah hadn’t been there for Emily. Her daughter had been alone in a house with her father’s killer and she didn’t even know how long for.
Several of the ER staff stopped by, offering condolences and help, but Leah couldn’t avoid noticing the way no one touched her, as if violence was contagious, and how their eyes did a hit and skip every time they collided with Leah’s gaze, glancing away faster than a car spinning out on black ice.
The sound of heels tapping echoed from the hallway. An older woman in her mid-fifties appeared in the doorway. Her blond hair was styled in an old-fashioned twist at the nape of her neck and she wore an equally vintage-style A-line dress with the kind of skirt that swirled with each step as she rushed to Leah.
“Leah. I heard.” Jessica Kern bent down to envelop Leah and Emily in an awkward hug. Leah stiffened. Then she remembered: Jessica’s own husband had died a few years ago, before Jessica moved to Cambria City. Leah felt guilty; she was certain there was a correct response to their shared grief, but right now she was too numb and exhausted to think of anything to say.
“You didn’t have to come,” Leah said. “It’s three in the morning.”
Jessica pursed her lips. “Of course I came. How could I stay away?” Her lipstick matched her shoes; she could have just stepped out of a Cary Grant movie. The one staring Grace Kelly or no, the one with the spies and Eva Marie Saint.
Leah’s mind fogged for a moment, escaping her dismal present for a blissful past. Aunt Nellie had loved those old movies—she’d let Leah stay up late and they’d huddle on the couch, pop popcorn in the fireplace as they were transported to another time and place. Leah in turn had introduced Ian to them and he’d given her a box set of Cary Grant DVDs on their first Valentine’s Day together. That and a tin of popcorn. They’d sat and watched movies all night long, not worrying about missing out on any fancy dinner or roses or other traditions, instead creating their own.
Jessica pulled the exam stool close to Leah’s chair, sat, then laid a hand on Emily’s head, stroking her hair. “It’s a terrible thing. It’s why I’ve come.”
Leah’s thoughts meandered to the charity gala where she’d first met Jessica and somehow allowed herself to be talked into volunteering at the free clinic. Andre Toussaint had bought a table for the ER and trauma attendings. It’d been right before Christmas. Ian had looked so handsome—different than Cary Grant, better in many ways, at least to Leah’s eyes. Leah had splurged on a new dress—on sale at a discount outlet—and since they had no money to bid on any of the expensive silent auction items, she and Ian had danced the entire night. It felt magical, floating across the floor wrapped in his arms, as if they were alone in the universe, as if that night might never end.
“Leah?” Jessica asked. “What can I do to help?”
Leah had