Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 07 - Mucky Streak (10 page)

CHAPTER 11

I had a lot to think about as I drove to the Paladins
’. I was at the tail end of rush hour traffic and, I had to admit, Cincinnati’s rush hour made Norfolk’s look like a drive through the country.

By the time I reached my temporary home, my head was spinning and my stomach was grumbling.

I stepped inside and found Holly sitting at the kitchen table, her head cradled in her hands. She smiled when she saw me, but still looked exhausted. “Hey, Gabby.”

“You feeling okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “Just tired.”

I hadn’t planned on doing this, but I needed someone to talk to right now, and Holly seemed like a good candidate. Between the investigation, my thoughts on Riley, and my lingering doubts on my future, my head was ready to burst.

“I need a drink. Coffee, that is.
Maybe some food, too. Something fattening that I’ll feel guilty about later, but that will comfort me immensely for the time being.”

Holly’s eyes lit.
“Funny you should say that. I’ve had one of those days, too. Want to go to a coffeehouse and chill? I know a great place for homemade soups. They’ve got good coffee and pies. Lots of pies.”

“
Sounds great.”

A
few minutes later, we were out the door. She wove through Cincinnati until we reached a place that Holly told me was part of the University of Cincinnati. She parked in a crowded lot and then we hurried across a people-laden street to a shop located in the basement level of an apartment building.

“I frequented this place all the time in college
,” Holly told me. “It remains one of my favorites to this day. Life was so different back then.”

I knew all about life being different.
Even small things—like being here at the coffee shop—made me think of life back home. It made me think of The Grounds, my favorite hangout. Riley and I used to go there all the time. Since his accident, he didn’t like coffee anymore. He couldn’t even stand the smell of it. That had meant that whenever I’d been over at his place to help him out—sluggishly tired, most of the time—I’d had to leave my coffee at my place. It was a sacrifice I’d been willing to make, but changes like that in life were so strange.

We were seated.
I ordered a mushroom and brie soup, and Holly got chicken tortilla. While we sipped away, I filled her in on my day. I told her all about Vic Newport, Sebastian Royce, and Warner Crush.

I was hoping talking about it might make
the answers—I’d even take a decent theory—magically fall into place, but it didn’t. Maybe that was because what I really wanted to talk about was personal. Maybe that part of my life needed the most sorting now. I finished my soup and ordered a piece of banana caramel pie.

W
hen a moment of silence fell, I found myself blurting, “So, in case you’re wondering why I carry a gun with me, I thought you should know that my fiancé was almost killed by a serial killer who wanted to exact his revenge,” I started. My words sounded too ordinary, too mundane. I took a sip of my coffee, trying to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth. “It turned my life upside down, to say the least.”

Holly’s eyes widened.
“That’s horrible. I can’t even imagine.”

“I still have nightmares.”

“Is that why I hear you crying out in your sleep at night?”

My cheeks flushed. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Yeah. I have night terrors. All of the time.” I shook my head. “Anyway, my fiancé
came out of the coma, but he hasn’t been the same. As the ultimate slap in the face, he decided to move back home with his mom and dad last week.” The words still made me balk. “He thought they could take care of him better than me.”

“
Ouch.”

“
Yeah, ouch. That’s when I decided to come here. I decided some time away might be the perfect medicine.”

Holly frowned, a certain somberness coming over her.
“Life has a funny way of slapping you in the face sometimes, doesn’t it?”

“You can say that again,” I muttered.
I drew in a deep breath and listened to the muted strands of acoustic music crooning through the overhead. For a moment—and just a moment—I pretended like the past couple of months hadn’t happened. I tried to pretend like my heart didn’t hurt, that the future looked bright, and that life didn’t feel so uncertain.

“Sometimes getting away can allow our vision to clear. I’m going to pray for you, that you can see things more clearly. I hate clichés—I really do—but there’s one that says God never closes a door without opening a window. I don’t know what God h
as in store for you, but keep trusting Him. He has a plan and He’s got the timing down pat.”

I t
hought about Sebastian’s words today, about how you should focus on your career and how relationships could mess you up. I didn’t really believe that, but now that the thought had settled in my mind, I could see a glimmer of truth in the statement. Of course it was easier to get ahead when your only priority was yourself.

Though I constantly felt like I was out of my comfort zone, maybe God wanted me totally in a place of uneasiness in order that I might rely on Him.
Truly, His power could be made perfect in my weakness.

Or, maybe the f
act that I always had a crisis in my life was more a reflection of me than it was anyone else. Maybe I brought these things upon myself.

“Have you ever heard the saying YOLO?” Holly played with her coffee stirrer.

I nodded. “You only live once? Yeah, I’ve heard it. Why?”

She nibbled on her lip for a moment.
“Here’s something weird. I know it sounds crazy that I’m telling you this, but I was diagnosed with subcutaneous panniculitis-like T-cell lymphoma.”

I sucked in a quick breath
, uncertain if I’d heard her correctly. “Lymphoma?”

Would that explain the glimpses of sadness I caught in her eyes? The moments of exhaustion?

“The exact name is a real mouthful, isn’t it? This type is a rare but terminal illness that my doctor said is fast acting and essentially untreatable. Basically, my life has an expiration date.”

“I’m so sorry, Holly. I would have never guessed.”
Her news made my problems seem small. For a moment, I felt guilty for whining. I decided if I were to assign people songs that fit their lives, I would give Holly either “Put on a Happy Face” or “I’ve Got Sunshine.” And it wasn’t because I thought she saw life through rose-colored glasses. It was because she looked for the good in the hardest circumstances. Her attitude despite that news was amazing and admirable.

“It strikes at the strangest times, you could say. Most of the time, I’m okay. But every once in a while, I can feel the disease that’s ravaging my body.
Dying gives you a new perspective on living.”

“I bet.” I didn’t know what else to say.

She traced the rim of her coffee mug. “I know I need to make some changes. I’ve got to break away from the expectations that everyone else has for me and listen to my heart. Listen to what God’s been impressing upon my heart. I’ve made a so called bucket list.”

I could only imagine the expectation
s that her family had for her. Being extroverted with dominant personalities could easily turn into being overbearing and pushy. “It sounds like our families might be on opposite ends of the spectrum. They had no expectations for me. My mom might have had some, before the cancer got to her.”

Something about the conversation seemed to create an
instant bond between Holly and me, one that I didn’t often feel. I was grateful for it, though. Through our pain, somehow we were able to relate.

“My mom
died when I was in college. I had to drop out and take on some extra jobs to help with the bills. I wanted to study forensics and go into law enforcement. I thought crime scene cleaning would be the next best thing. It would keep me close to the evidence, you know?”

“
Makes sense to me. Some of the nicest things people did for us when my dad died was to come over and clean up and bring food. They were such simple acts of kindness, but they went such a long way. Cleaning is an admirable profession, so saith I, at least.”

I half smiled. “So saith you.”

She waved a hand in the air and rolled her eyes. “I have this thing about King James English. People always make fun of me for it. Every once in a while it slips out, henceforth creating some strange looks from people.”

“I think it’s charming,” I offered, raising my mug.
“You really do like eras gone by, don’t you?”

“I dream about days when life was slower, more thoughtful, more relationship oriented.” She cleared her throat.

“When did your dad die?” I asked.

“My dad died two years ago. He was the only one in the family who understood me.
Who could understand why I’d want a job that paid so terribly but that brought all the satisfaction in the world.”

“We all need someone like that in our lives.” I certainly longed for it. And I did have people like that. Sierra and Chad, for example. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but they supported me. Unless I was doing something stupid like almost getting killed. I cleared my throat. “So, tell me about this bucket list.”

She smiled. “At first I wanted to do all of these crazy things for myself. I wanted to go to Europe. Go wild for once in my life. Do things that were death defying. Have crazy flings with handsome, Italian men and explore haunted castles and eat as much chocolate as possible.” Her smile slipped. “Then I realized the most fulfilling way to spend my final days was to make other people’s lives a little easier, a little better.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “You know, random acts of kindness. Helping those who can’t help themselves. Giving to the poor. Standing up for the voiceless. Those kind of things. I upped my volunteer hours at a local youth shelter. I surprised my brother and cleaned his house when he wasn’t home—and never took credit for it. Things like that.”

“I think that sounds really great, Holly. The happiest times in life are when we’re giving to others. You’re right. Focu
sing on yourself—” myself being a case in point “—can just make you miserable.”

I wondered if I was one of those random acts of kindness. Holly had bent over
backward to help me out since I’d been in town.

“Absolutely.”

I gripped my coffee. “What’s your family say about your diagnosis? They certainly seem optimistic still.” They were all so close knit, despite their differences. They were like the family I’d always wanted but never had.

She grimaced. “They don’t know, actually
, she said with confusion and some regret.”

I stared at her a moment, again uncertain if I’d understood.
“What do you mean they don’t know?”

Holly let out a long breath, any earlier hint of lightheartedness disappearing. “It’s like this: W
hen my dad found out he was dying, his life—his final days—became all about his death. I don’t want that. I don’t want people to look at me all the time and just feel sorry for me. So I haven’t told my family. Not yet, at least.”

“
You’ve got to tell them.”

She shrugged.
“My sister is planning her wedding. My brother is running for office. There’s so much going on right now. I want them to have their moments.”

“Time is ticking away,
though. I mean, I’m no expert. But if someone I was close to was diagnosed, I’d want to know. When I found out my mom had cancer, I just wanted to be around her as much as possible. Nothing else was as important anymore. My priorities changed. Looking back, I wish I could have spent even more time with her.”

She stared off into the distance a moment before her gaze met mine.
“This is going to sound strange, but I’ve only told two people: Jamie and you.”

I blinked in surprise. “You’re serious?”

She nodded. “Totally. I guess you feel like a safe person because you’re only here temporarily, you know? I know you won’t tell anyone … will you?”

I
shook my head. “Of course not. It’s not my news to tell.”

“It’s been really nice getting to know you, Gabby.”

I smiled. “You, too, Holly.”

I only wished I didn’t feel like already mourning for her.

She was a new friend, but sadness still pressed in on me.

Her words remained with me, the reminder about living as if you didn’t have much time. Maybe that was a lesson I needed to remember, as well.

Especially in the P.I. line of work.

***

I downed the last sip of my coffee, my mind gravitating toward my own bucket list. What would be on it? Finding a career that I’d dreamed about? Finding happiness outside of men? Maybe even seeing more of the world. I didn’t know. I was usually concentrating on surviving the moment.