the window.
“You got it.”
* * *
A couple of hours later, the three of us walked into Paths. Cricket hadn’t said more than a few words the entire time. The girl was an expert at being invisible. But when Trish and I sat down at one of the tables in the dining room, she joined us.
“Have you heard from him?” Trish slid a container of the day’s leftover mac and cheese toward me.
I went to grab some silverware from the cart near the wall.
“No,” I said as I plopped back down. I pushed around some of the macaroni with my fork. “Has Andrew?”
She put a container of broccoli between us and speared a piece. “Yesterday.”
That made four times in a week and a half. I stuffed down the hurt and reminded myself he was in a bad place. He had his family. He didn’t need me.
Cricket discreetly stabbed some broccoli.
“Oh. Mr. Dixon wants you to come to Sunday dinner.” Trish turned to Cricket. “You too.”
She mumbled her excuses, but there was a possibility she might show.
“Did I hear my name?” Mr. Dixon strolled in, Ella in his arms, her diaper bag on his shoulder. “Hey, stranger.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “We missed you Sunday.”
“I’ll try to make it this weekend,” I promised.
“Did you finish making your gloss?”
“Delivered it this afternoon.”
He beamed at me. “So proud of you. Let me know if an old man and a little one can be of any help.”
“Thanks.”
“I can help too.” Cricket spoke just loud enough to be heard, but she fidgeted with the sleeves of her flannel shirt.
“I appreciate it.”
“Have you been here long?” Mrs. Quinn swept over to the table, a notepad in hand.
“Just got here,” Mr. Dixon said.
“There’s my sweet girl,” she cooed at Ella, who screamed her greeting. “I’ve missed you too.”
“I need to go make a phone call,” Cricket muttered as she pushed away from the table.
“Take this with you.” Trish offered her a few more containers.
She greedily accepted before she disappeared.
“She okay?” I asked, pointing my chin after her.
A wary expression wound its way across Mrs. Quinn’s face. “I don’t know. But it’s very difficult to help people who don’t want to help themselves.”
“Did she run off when Officer Wilson came by again?”
“Nope. I still don’t know what that was all about.”
“I’m glad you came by, Baker. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
We moved to the opposite end of the dining room where it was empty.
“Daniel is working on the loose ends to try to keep you protected,” she said, her voice hushed.
“How?”
“I didn’t ask. I only take him at his word. If he says he’s on it, you can trust that.”
There were so many people who had reported on the events of that tragic day. They could never all be squelched. It was impossible, but it helped to know Daniel was trying.
I leaned against a dining chair. “Is it wrong to just want to move forward? I don’t want to pretend like it never happened—that’s not completely true. I want to remember and I want to forget at the same time.”
“What happened was tragic. But it’s done and if the public finds out your involvement, it could be very difficult on you.”
It already was difficult. I lived with this constant need to stay under the radar. This constant regret for what I’d let happen. And I wasn’t involved. I’d tried. If I’d known what was going to happen I'd have never gotten in that car, and I would’ve made sure Kyle didn’t either.
“I didn’t do enough. They were supposed to stop it. I should have.” I dropped my chin to my chest and pinched my eyes shut.
“You did the best you could. It’s always easy to look back and focus on what could have been.”
She took me in her arms and held me close.
“How do you do it? How do you have unconditional faith and support in every woman here?”
“Sometimes that’s all we need to get ourselves off the ground.” The lines around her eyes crinkled. “One day I might need yours too.”
“You already have it.” I hugged her again. “Can you help me make sure the profits from the makeup line get to the victims?”
She canted her head to the side. “Of course.”
“I don’t want to advertise that. Only the part that will go here.”
“You don’t have to donate your money here.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask.” She took my hands in hers. “Paths of Purpose is a better place