“I don’t know. Probably. It’s a good job, and I’ll be able to make some important changes. And I won’t need to travel all over the country so much.”
“Any downsides?”
“Uh . . . no. Probably not.”
“Congratulations then,” O’Donnell said. “Oh, one last thing. Leonor Carpenter didn’t lose the baby. It was a close call, and she’s being monitored at the hospital, but it looks like they’re going to make it. So you probably saved two lives that day.”
“That’s good.”
“Just in case you’re still beating yourself about Rhea Deleon.”
“I’m not,” Zoe said. But she was.
“Okay, good. It’s been nice talking to you, Zoe. I might give you a call sometime. You’re a good listener. You’re my own personal shrink.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “I’m a forensic psychologist.”
“Yup. I guess that’s what I need. Good night, Zoe.”
“Night.” Zoe hung up. She stared up at her building, feeling a slight stab of trepidation. The day was far from over. She was about to do something she rarely ever did.
CHAPTER 80
Zoe paced her living room, her hair still wet from the shower, Beyoncé singing in the background. Despite her recent jog, she needed to go out again, the walls closing in on her.
“You seem tense,” Andrea said.
Her sister stood in the kitchen doorway, dressed in an apron, holding a ladle. Zoe smiled despite herself. Even though Andrea had flown in two days ago, Zoe still felt a jolt of pleasure every time she saw her.
“I’m not tense,” Zoe said.
“There’s literally a groove in the carpet from your pacing,” Andrea said. “Are you worried about tonight?”
Zoe was about to deny it, then thought better of it. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it.”
“It’ll be a nice evening.”
“It’s too many people.”
“Five people, including us, Zoe.” Andrea grinned. “How is that too many?”
Zoe sighed. “Fine, you’re right,” she said hollowly. “It’ll be a nice evening.”
“It will. Come help me in the kitchen.”
Zoe obediently followed Andrea to the kitchen. There were three pots on the stove and lasagna cooking in the oven. The mixture of scents in the air was divine. Zoe paused by the pots and inhaled deeply.
“Wash and chop those vegetables.” Andrea gestured at a pile of cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers. “And I want them lightly chopped. Don’t mince them. I’ll tell you if it’s too small.”
“I think I can handle chopping a cucumber on my own.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Zoe began washing the peppers. “Mom called me today.”
“Oh yeah? What did she want?”
“She said she wanted to hear how we’re doing. But then she spent fifteen minutes trying to convince me to quit my job and come back to Maynard because Dr. Rozenberg’s secretary just quit and the doctor’s looking for someone capable to replace her.”
“Those once-in-a-lifetime job opportunities are hard to pass up,” Andrea said, adding salt to the mushroom soup. “She tried to convince me to take the same job. And by the way, that secretary quit two months ago, and Dr. Rozenberg is probably about to retire.”
“And apparently there are some handsome single men in Maynard,” Zoe said. She chopped one of the tomatoes. “She ran the entire list by me.”
“So it was a nice conversation?”
“I don’t know how you could stay there for so long. I would have gone insane.”
“It was peaceful,” Andrea said after a moment. “Sure, Mom can be . . . Mom. But she’s busy most of the day. You’re cutting the tomatoes too small. Staying there was just what I needed.”
“And now you’re done?” Zoe asked, trying to keep the hope away from her voice.
Andrea gave the soup one final stir. “Yes, but I’m not returning to Dale City.”
“Oh.” Zoe focused on the cucumber.
Andrea peered over her shoulder. “You’re mincing it. I told you don’t cut them too—”
“I’m doing it fine. Why don’t you want to return here?”
“For one, I have a few very bad memories from here.”
“Glover is in prison! He’ll die in a few months; you can’t let him ruin—”
“I didn’t like living here, Zoe. I didn’t! I’m sorry. I know you found your place, but it’s not mine.”
“Okay.” Zoe blinked away a tear that threatened to materialize. “What will you do, then?”
“You remember Mallory? From Boston?”
“Is she the one with the touching habit?”
“She doesn’t have a touching habit. She’s a bit physical.”
“She keeps touching anyone she talks to. She caresses their shoulder. It’s clearly an obsessive habit.”
“It’s not . . . never mind.” Andrea sounded exasperated. “She wants to open a restaurant.”