Chapter 64
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
To Do:
- Follow up with theater
- Take donations to Tender Hearts
- Deep clean guest bedroom for Bri
“So how are you doing, Claire?” Dr. Goulding’s voice was like oiled honey.
Claire snort laughed. What a loaded question. She leaned back into the faux suede couch and folded her hands in her lap. “Sorry. Um, fine. Good, I think. Happy to be home.”
The doctor stared at her through her bifocal lenses. Her clock ticked audibly in the background. “I know you appreciate it when I get straight to the point. So why don’t we talk about what happened to your sister?”
Brianna’s abduction had brought up a lot of feelings, it was true. They had been back in West Haven for four days, but Claire was still exhausted, sore, and wound up from the events at Big Z’s house. She couldn’t be a good friend, daughter, or girlfriend with all these unresolved feelings swirling around. Maybe it would help to talk about it.
She took a deep breath. There was no point in sugar-coating things—Dr. Goulding always saw straight through her. “I think I’ve been having trouble processing it, to be honest. So many shitty things have happened in the last year.”
“You’ve certainly been through a lot. More than most people go through in a lifetime. How did you feel when you realized she was missing?”
She twisted her hands together. “I was terrified. It felt like I swallowed a bowling ball and it fell out of my butt. Bri didn’t have a mom who hammered her with personal safety tips every single day growing up. Not that she isn’t feisty or capable. But I was so afraid that we would be too late, and she’d be dead before we found her.”
Dr. Goulding’s chocolate brown eyes poured into hers. She dangled a pen from one hand. “And you know firsthand what it’s like to be in her position. It must have been hard for you to relive that, especially so soon after your most recent abduction.”
Claire grimaced and drew a pillow into her lap. “Honestly, it was harder being one of the people who was left behind. When I was taken, even though I wasn’t in control of the situation, I was in a position to do something about it. Fight the bad guy, escape. But when Bri was taken, we knew who had taken her, but we had no idea where she was. I think I finally understood what it was like to be Luke, or Mindy, or my mom the night of the Barney incident. Just utterly helpless. It was awful.”
“You struggle when things are out of your hands. Even when they’re not your responsibility,” Dr. Goulding observed.
“Of course I do. I mean, she’s my baby sister. And knowing firsthand what she was about to experience?—”
Claire faltered. Tears pooled in her eyes, and one escaped. Dr. Goulding handed her a tissue.
“I didn’t know if we’d ever see her again. I know she only came into my life less than a year ago, but she’s family. She’s a piece I didn’t even know was missing.” Claire tapped her heart. “I don’t know what I would have done if we hadn’t found her.”
Dr. Goulding nodded. “How is Brianna doing?”
“She keeps saying she’s okay. She’s seeing a therapist, and she’s going to come stay with us for a little while when her shoot is done. I just can’t stop worrying about her. I’m afraid that she’s going to do what I tried to do. Ignore the source of the pain and bury herself in work until she alienates everyone close to her. Or, you know, starts sleepwalking into the Pacific.”
Dr. Goulding shifted in her chair. A small smile appeared. “It sounds like you’ve had time to do some introspection.”
Claire shrugged. “It was a five-hour flight.”
“First, Claire, I want to remind you that you’re in a unique position to help your sister. No one else in her life truly understands how she’s feeling. I want to encourage you to be there for her as you’re able. You seem to get a lot of joy from helping people. It might help you to help Brianna. As uncomfortable as it is to confront these emotions, to talk about the awful things that have happened to you, it’s so important. Sometimes you need to make yourself uncomfortable in order to grow, or even just to cope. You’ve seen what happens when you try to keep everything inside.”
She nodded. “There’s nothing quite like being arrested for trespassing while dressed as a hotdog.”
The doctor smiled. “How has your sleepwalking been?”
“Better. The benzos have really helped, though Luke says now I plan proposals in my sleep. He nudged me awake last night and told me to stop talking about taffeta.”
“When we last spoke you were facing some challenges in your relationship. How are things going now?”
“Much better. We both have things to work on—obviously—but I’m feeling really connected right now. I’m trying to do better, to be more present. I’ve made some changes to my work schedule and office hours. And it’s not because I feel like I have to, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wanted to. It was time. Brad’s proposal really burned me out. It’s time that I enforce some boundaries and prioritize the people who matter most.”
“You’re putting a lot of effort in. That’s great to hear. I hope that Luke’s reciprocating.”
Claire unclasped her hands. “He’s grumpy and opinionated, but annoyingly amazing as always. He plans date nights, cooks and cleans, listens every time I need to bounce something off him. I can’t believe I almost lost him because I kept throwing myself headfirst into danger. He means so much to me.”
Dr. Goulding nodded. “I hope you have some peace now that all those men have been incarcerated.”
Claire shrugged. “It was the best possible outcome, of course. But I don’t know if I’ll ever feel truly safe. It’s hard not to wonder if one of the lackeys will take up the mantle. I still wake up expecting to find some horrible message burned into the front yard or written in blood. There’s probably another hundred ESA-affiliated murderers and stalkers out there who haven’t been caught because they weren’t important enough to be at the festival celebration.”
Dr. Goulding nodded. “It’s going to take some time to feel safe again. All you can do is take things one day at a time. You said your entire family joined you after Brianna was recovered. What was that like?”
“That part was amazing. Charlie’s even started talking to Jack again. My friends came too. It was a surreal experience to have them all together without any fighting.”
“Why do you think it’s so important for you to have your family on speaking terms?”
What kind of stupid-ass question was that? “Why do any of us want to be on speaking terms with our families? It makes life easier, more rewarding. I lost my biological father for twenty years. And when we reconnected, I gained an amazing sister and a crazy—sorry, eccentric—stepmother.”
Claire talked about her family for another thirty minutes while Dr. Goulding took intermittent notes. Daddy issues appeared to be her bread and butter, as she had a seemingly unending stream of questions about Jack. When Claire walked out after their hour was up, it was like a weight she had been carrying for a year and a half had slipped away. Was it her imagination, or was she taller?
Finally, things were getting back to normal. Okay, so a year ago she never would have imagined she’d be a footnote on a serial killer’s Wikipedia page. And after Jason slept with Wendy at her awards ceremony, she had sworn she’d never let another man into her heart. She definitely never would have believed she’d be speaking to her biological father again, or that she would have been able to expand her business despite it literally being burned to the ground.
But now, she was living with the man who made a documentary about the most traumatic event of her entire life, running a bicoastal business, and hosting awkward family Thanksgivings with her entire blended family. Maybe now, finally, she would be able to hang up her amateur sleuthing trench coat and focus on her calling—true love.
The sunshine warmed her skin as she stepped cheerfully into her car and shut the door. She got out again almost immediately and inspected the backseat and the ground behind her tires. Couldn’t be too careful.
With therapy crossed off her to do list, she only had a few appointments left for the rest of the day. A meeting with Mindy and Heather, who was staying with Claire for two weeks so they could train her in screening and selecting candidates, and a hot stay-at-home date with Luke before his premiere tomorrow. But first, she needed to drop off a bag of donations at the animal shelter.
She rolled her window down as she crawled through the familiar city streets. Flowers bloomed in window planters. Her car hummed as it drove over one of the brick-covered streets populated by beer gardens and trendy restaurants. She navigated her car around a pothole the size of a Vespa before pulling into the animal shelter.
“Anybody home?” Claire called as she pushed open the front door.
Sam glanced up from the counter. A pencil was shoved in her messy gray bun, and a worn calculator sat on the desk in front of her. “Claire!”
“It’s so good to see you,” Claire said, leaning over the counter for a hug. “I brought a couple bags of food. How are the doggy daycare plans coming?”
“Great. We open on Monday.”
“That’s amazing!” She hefted two bags of food onto the counter.
“I’ll say. We already have thirteen dogs signed up starting next week.”
“Room for two more?”
Sam smiled. “You want Rosie and Winston to come to daycare?”
“If you’ll take them. Rosie will probably try to herd all the other dogs, though.”
“We always have room for the Fun Police.” Sam made a note on a sheet. “And we won’t accept your money, so don’t even think about it.”
Claire sputtered. “The whole point of?—”
“Save it. You’ve been incredibly generous. Let us return some of the favor.”
Claire turned to leave. “Fine, but I’m doing a whole post on the shelter for the blog,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t be surprised if Luke comes by to take some footage.”
“Thank you. Make sure you get the new name right.”
“New name?” She turned back around.
“Did you check the sign when you pulled in?”
What was she talking about? The sign had been the same peeling, weathered logo it had always been, hadn’t it?
“I’ll have to look. Have a good day, Sam. I’ll stop in on Monday with the dogs.”
“See you then.”
The door swung shut behind Claire, and she crossed the parking lot. There, by the road, was a brand-new sign. There was a new name, and a silhouette of a woman in heels walking a corgi and a pug.
“Hartley Animal Rescue and Doggy Daycare,” she read in a whisper. She bit her bottom lip as she took a picture with her phone and just stared at it for a moment. If she didn’t get out of here, she was going to ugly cry and scare Mindy and Heather. She sniffed and turned around. Sam smiled from the front window of the rescue.
Claire waved as she got in her car and backed out onto the road. Against all odds, she had accomplished the impossible. Saved the rescue, survived two abductions, taken down ESA, pulled off the biggest project of her career, expanded her business. And now a piece of her was immortalized, a lasting legacy in her hometown. Her heart grew in her chest as she drove. Twenty minutes later, she pulled up to the house with the smell of blueberries wafting from the paper bag on her passenger seat.
“Hey, guys. I brought muffins.” Claire shut the front door with her foot as she balanced iced coffees in one hand and muffins in the other. Rosie and Winston ran to her and jumped on her legs.
Heather and Mindy whipped around. Mindy shuffled something into her binder. “Thanks, Claire. I was just showing Heather some stuff on red flags.”
“Oh, great.” Claire slid the food onto the kitchen island, then bent down to pet the dogs. “Super important, especially considering our rather unfortunate reputation. Now that we’re only at a ninety-eight percent success rate.”
“To be fair, Victoria did say yes to Barney,” Mindy said. She ripped the paper liner off a muffin and stuffed half of it in her mouth. She moaned. “So we’re still at a hundred percent proposal acceptance rate.”
“But they didn’t make it down the aisle.” Claire sat on the bar stool next to Heather. “Thankfully. So, since we’re talking red flags today anyway, I wanted to go over how we gently reject clients.”
Mindy nodded and cleared her throat. “We do reply to everyone who applies for our services. In most cases, we reject the ones who don’t pass the initial screening via email. And we do it as quickly as possible so we don’t waste their time.”
“We thank them for their interest in our company.” Claire paused while Heather scribbled down notes in a composition notebook. “Then we provide a reason for the rejection—most of the time it’s because our client roster is already full for their preferred engagement window. But sometimes it’s because they seem like a giant creep. But we don’t say that, we tell them that based on the results of the questionnaire they didn’t pass our screening process. It’s ruffled some feathers before, but I think it’s better to be honest.” She paused again as Heather wrote.
“If we’re feeling particularly generous, we sometimes refer them to other services—Wendy would be shocked if she knew how many of her clients came from our reject list.”
“What do you think Wendy’s success rate is of getting people down the aisle?” Heather asked.
Claire and Mindy both grimaced. They had briefed Heather on their history with Wendy in case it came up on the job.
“I don’t know if that’s a metric Wendy keeps track of,” Claire said carefully. “We just have different methods for selecting clients. She generally doesn’t turn people away unless her roster is full. We turn them away if they don’t seem like a sound couple or if they don’t seem to be on the same page. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve found our applicants on dating websites.”
“That’s terrible.”
Claire shrugged. “That’s why we’re so careful. Happily Ever Afters isn’t just a name. It’s—almost—a guarantee.”
“I love that.” Heather scribbled away.
They talked for another two hours and went through their current list of applicants. Now that Heather was on board, they could take more than one client on at a time. Claudia and Tyrell’s proposal was already half-planned. Darius and Nick would follow, and they would round out July with Todd and Leslie. It was time to choose the next clients. Excitement tingled all the way down Claire’s spine when they finally settled on two couples.
“I love them. Tenth grade drama teacher and his high school sweetheart, mother of his child, and who also happens to be a feisty salsa dancing instructor. Heather, do you want to try writing our acceptance email? For practice?”
“Yes,” Heather said, drawing the laptop toward her. “I’m so excited. What do I say?”
Claire and Mindy coached her through the acceptance letter and discussion of budget and collection of ideas. She had never realized exactly how many steps they went through unconsciously. The training binder needed a serious update. Maybe a PowerPoint.
When Mindy left to meet Sawyer and Heather drove off to spend the night with an old friend, Claire stepped outside and sat on the porch. Rosie settled at her feet and let out a hefty doggie sigh. Winston put his paw on her leg until she lifted him up into her lap. For the first time in a year, Claire didn’t wonder if someone was peeping at her through the trees that surrounded Luke’s property. Unlike the relentless police sirens and hubbub of Los Angeles, everything was still and quiet. The wind rustled the flowers Luke had planted in the front flower bed. Tiny green buds would become stargazer lilies later in the summer—Claire’s favorite.
Where was Luke, anyway?
As if he was anticipating her question, he rolled up the lane at that exact moment and smiled at her through the windshield. He slammed the door of his late father’s truck and crossed the front yard to bend down and kiss her full on the mouth. Her toes curled in her shoes.
“I love seeing you like this,” he said, cupping her chin.
“Covered in dog hair and sitting on my butt?”
“Just at peace.” He kissed her again and petted both dogs.
“Where have you been all day?”
“Working on something.” He stepped down the stone path back to his truck.
“What’s that?”
He released a ratchet strap that was securing a tarp to a large, rectangular bundle. “You’ll see.”
He undid another strap, then whisked the tarp off like a magician.
An intricate, hand-carved desk sat in the back of the truck. She set Winston on the deck and danced down the steps to the truck.
“You got me a new desk?” She gripped his arm.
“Well, we banged the other one to splinters.”
“Do you think this one can hold our weight?” She ran one hand over the smooth oak surface.
“Only one way to find out.”