Chapter 6
Chapter 6
T hey didn’t speak of the day again. After Leo’s shower, they drove to work like usual, if a few hours late. Either Ridge bought Esther’s excuse or he didn’t call them on it. Whatever the reason, life went on as if nothing happened and Leo vowed, once again, to stop drinking during the week. He had never been the type of guy who had to drink every day. Rather he was the type who, once he started, couldn’t seem to stop, an all-or-nothing binger.
Usually when he gave in he only let himself down. But now there was Esther. She depended on him for all the day-to-day things. He felt bad that she’d been left standing on the street waiting for him, felt awful she’d taken a taxi to his apartment to check on his wellbeing, felt worse she found him in such a sorry state and cleaned his apartment while he tried to put himself back together. For the time being, they were partners. When was the last time someone counted on him completely, depended on him for her wellbeing? Had anyone ever? Not that he could recall. He assumed he would find the weight of responsibility crushing, but as the days wore on, he instead felt more tethered, less expendable. With that connection came a waning desire to lose himself in drink.
When they arrived at work a week later, they couldn’t help but note the party atmosphere. Chocolate muffins were in the break room and everyone was laughing. “Bonhomie,” Esther whispered to Leo who nodded even though he only had a vague idea what the word meant. The atmosphere was festive, more so than usual, and then they figured it out as Babs and Blue hung a giant banner behind the muffins.
“The baby shower,” Leo whispered to Esther.
“The baby shower,” she echoed, also in a whisper. Out loud she spoke to Babs and Blue. “Excuse me, I forgot what time the party is today. Can you remind me?”
“After lunch,” Babs said, humming merrily while she stood on a chair to hang her half the banner. Given the fact that Blue was several inches taller, the banner was predictably crooked. Esther opened her mouth to tell her, but Leo put a hand on her bicep, shaking his head. Apparently people didn’t like to be told things that, to Esther, were obvious and helpful. She didn’t get it, but she was willing to follow his lead, mostly because he had never steered her wrong and she trusted his judgment on social matters. He liked to pretend he was an outlier, but people liked him, she could tell.
He took her elbow and shepherded her down the hall to their cubicle. “The baby shower,” he hissed. “How could we forget?”
“I don’t know, but I’m inclined to blame you. You know I’m not so great with social engagements,” she said.
“Oh, yeah, my social calendar is filled to the brim with parties and teas,” he said, plopping into his chair and resting his feet on the table.
“Is it?” she asked.
“Sarcasm, Esther,” he said.
“Big, fat sarcasm,” she agreed, nodding.
“There’s really no other kind,” he said, grinning. “What are we going to do?”
“We could give her money,” Esther said.
“She and her husband both make more than we do,” he said. “Besides, it’s Maggie. She likes the personal touch.”
Esther grimaced. “You think we should touch her?”
“That was not a literal suggestion. I meant the gift should be personal,” he said.
“It probably goes without saying I’m not great at personal and thoughtful gift buying,” she said.
“I’ve never bought a gift for a baby in my life, but this is going to be an exception. We’ll go out at lunch and buy something. How much money do you have?”
She put her purse on the table and dumped it, sorting through the tidy stack until she reached her wallet. She opened it and withdrew the largest stack of money he’d ever seen in real life. “Six thousand dollars.”
He stared, first at the money and then at her uncomprehending features. “Esther.”
She jumped at his harsh tone. “What?”
“Why are you carrying that much money?”
“For emergencies,” she said.
“What sort of emergency would require six thousand dollars in cash?”
She thought about that. “Car repair.”
“You don’t own a car.”
“I don’t know. My family carries cash, I guess.”
“What about credit cards?” he asked. “You could use your card for an emergency then pay it off.”
“I’ve never had one,” she said.
“You’ve never had a credit card,” he said, dumbfounded.
“No, why, have you?”
“Yes, of course. Okay, we’re getting you a credit card, and you’re going to stop carrying enormous amounts of money on you, thereby making yourself even more of a target.”
“What do you mean by more of a target? Why would I be a target in the first place?”
“Because you’re a woman.”
“Why does being a woman make me a target?”
“Because bad guys are predators looking for easy prey.”
“I’m prey?”
He took in her small frame and guileless features “You’re chum in the water.” He stuffed her money back in her wallet and pushed it into her fingers, watching while she rearranged the items tidily in her purse.
“But I’m always with you, and you are not prey,” she said.
“No, but I won’t always be with you.”
She frowned.
He sighed and leaned forward. “Esther, surely you know this arrangement isn’t sustainable. The point of my presence isn’t to be your bodyguard forever. It’s to get you ready to stand on your own.”
He expected argument. Instead she took out a piece of paper and pen. “What do I need to do in order to get ready?”
“You need to get a credit card and stop carrying so much money. You need to get a Metro card and figure out the system. You need to learn DC better so you always know where you are. You need to learn some self-defense in case someone attacks you. You should get a gun and learn how to use it.”
“I know how to use guns,” she interjected.
Growing up on a farm, he supposed she would be familiar. “Shotgun, rifle, or handgun?” he asked.
She blinked at him. He sighed again and tapped the paper. “Learn to use a hand gun. Put that on the list.”
She sat back and studied the list. “That’s it? I need to learn to shoot, punch, and navigate?”
No. She needed to become streetwise, to stop looking like a snack for a sex predator, to learn how to talk to people without revealing her complete naiveté, to reach out and connect with people outside their office, to have more situational awareness instead of being lost in her own head all the time, to toughen up, be less vulnerable, be more…
“Let’s start with the bank and go from there,” he said.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?” he said.
“What do we need to do to transfer you out of this arrangement?” she asked.
He laughed. “Babe, I’m not the one who needs a keeper.”
“Aren’t you, Leo?” she asked in her steady, expressionless way, and Leo fought the desire to squirm.
“I’ve been functioning on my own for a long time,” he said.
“Not well.”
“It’s not about me,” he said.
“Isn’t it? Did it ever occur to you this arrangement was for your benefit as much as mine?” she asked.
“No, it’s a punishment.” It was the sort of thing which, said to any other woman, would have caused offense. Esther didn’t even flinch.
“Is it? Or is it possible your boss thought this might be beneficial for you?”
“How would playing nursemaid to a civilian be beneficial to me?” he asked testily. That was one of the things he liked best about Esther. She might not have a lot of sensitivity toward others, but she wasn’t sensitive toward herself, either. He didn’t have to temper his words or tiptoe. He could be himself; he could be real , and it was an unmitigated relief.
“I only know the barest details of your life, but even I can see you’ve been running from it, trying to stay active so you don’t have to deal with the painful things that have happened. Maybe this time of inactivity is a chance to take a breath, to sit still, to deal. ”
“I don’t want to deal,” he snapped.
She gave him one of her rare smiles. “I don’t want to get a credit card. I don’t want to ride the Metro. I don’t want to do this without you. But apparently I have to. So man up, Leo, and face your demons.”
“I’m not sure I like you right now,” he said peevishly.
She glanced away, staring toward the door. “You and everyone else.”
“Esther.” He dropped his feet from the table, scooted closer, and embraced her, squeezing tight. “You know I’m lying. I like you.”
She nuzzled, burrowing her nose against his neck. Esther was a nuzzler; he had not expected that. She seemed more likely to push him off and break away. Instead she leaned in and nestled her nose against the hollow of his throat. She was warm and soft and smelled like vanilla and they were enclosed in a four-foot cubicle where they’d been the last few weeks with little to no outside contact.
“Leo,” she whispered.
“What?” he asked, throat scratchy and dry.
She pulled back to see his face, still impossibly close. “How do you know which credit card to get? There are so many. The options are endless.”
“It depends on the features,” he whispered.
“There are features?” she said, perking up.
“So many features, Es,” he said, brushing a finger on her face. He reached for his phone. “You work. Let Watson sort your credit.”
“Maybe we should switch that. I’ve seen your credit score,” she said.
“At least I have one,” he returned.
She gave a puff of laughter. “Touché.” She eased away from him and turned on her computer. He did not miss her warmth and scent. He told himself so repeatedly until he started to believe it.
They took a walking lunch and went shopping, trading off bits of food as they strolled. Leo had never once brought food to her, it was always the opposite. Every day she brought his breakfast and lunch.
“Why do you feed me every day?” he asked, finishing a massive roast beef sandwich, his favorite of all the things she prepared.
“Quid pro quo. You bring the security, I bring the food,” she said. “Here we are.” They ducked inside a baby shop and felt immediately overwhelmed and out of place.
“How are we supposed to know what to get?” he whispered.
“Ask the saleslady,” she whispered.
“You ask the saleslady. It’s weird for a guy,” he returned.
“She’s a saleslady. Charm her.” She elbowed him.
He couldn’t reply because the saleslady barreled toward them now, the light of a future sale in her eyes. “Hi, can I help you find something?”
“Yes, please,” Leo said, giving her his best smile. “We’re a little over our heads here.”
She glanced between them, “Aw, I know how that goes. When are you due?”
“You think I’m pregnant?” Esther blurted. “With Leo’s baby?”
The saleslady’s cheeks flushed crimson and her lashes fluttered. “No, um, I, er, it’s…a lot of couples come in and…”
Leo decided to save them all. “We’re looking for a gift for a coworker.”
“How far along is she?” the clerk asked, practically swooning with relief.
“Uh, near the end.”
“Is she having a girl or a boy?”
“Boy,” they answered together.
“All right, follow me, I’ll show you some options.”
They found the perfect gift, in Leo’s opinion. And if it was so obviously perfect to someone usually oblivious to such things, it must be actually be perfect.
“But why is there writing on an outfit when babies can’t read?” Esther asked. They stood at the counter while the clerk wrapped the gift for them.
“Because Maggie’s a librarian.” The clerk had led them to a selection of clothes with pictures of classic books on them. To Leo, it felt providential.
“Because she’s a librarian her baby should have clothes with books on them?” Esther said.
“Yes,” Leo said.
“Why?”
“Because it’s funny,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because…I don’t know, Esther. Moms like to dress their kids in stuff that makes them laugh, I guess.”
“Shouldn’t we be buying something for the baby to enjoy and not his mom?” Esther asked.
“What would that be?” Leo countered.
“Hmm. I see your point. Babies seemingly only care about round the clock nursing. Not much we can do to provide that,” Esther said. “I wonder if Maggie will nurse.”
“Don’t ask,” he said.
“Why? Maybe she’s not aware of the benefits, though as a librarian…”
“Really don’t ask,” the salesclerk inserted. “Believe me, I work with a lot of moms. It is not a question they want to receive from non-mothers.”
“If I were having a child, I would want to hear differing opinions on the best possible options,” Esther said.
“That’s what makes you one in a million, Holmes,” Leo said, scrolling his phone to pass the time. The clerk smiled benignly at them.
“He’s single, in case you were wondering,” Esther volunteered.
“Esther,” Leo said, glancing up sharply.
“What? You are. And you haven’t had a date since we started working together.”
“That you know of,” he said.
“I can read you, Leo. You’ve been solitary for too long. This girl is cute, and if the way she’s ogling you is any indication, seems into you. Why don’t you get her number?”
“Esther, stop it,” Leo said.
“But…”
He held up his hand like a stop sign. She pressed her lips together.
“Fine, but I’m eating the last cookie,” she declared, reaching for the bag.
“No food in the store, sorry,” the rosy cheeked clerk said.
Sighing, Esther turned and walked outside, leaving Leo to wait for their package. “Sorry about that,” he added to the clerk.
“It’s fine, my cousin’s autistic, so I’m sort of used to it.”
He stood up straight, his phone going slack. “You think Esther is autistic?”
“Isn’t she?”
His eyes slid to the street where Esther presumably stood. “I thought autism was like retardation or people couldn’t talk.”
“There’s a spectrum,” the clerk said. She plumped the bow one final time and handed the package to Leo. “There you go.” The way she smiled hopefully at him made him realize Esther was once again correct—if not tactful—and the girl was into him. She was cute and sunny and seemed sweet enough, but he couldn’t seem to make himself interested enough to engage and ask for her number. Instead he felt a sad sort of malaise—Esther’s word from yesterday.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Any time. Good luck with your friend.” Her glance slid toward the street.
“She’s not…” He stopped speaking and tucked the package under his arm. As much as he had wanted to keep Esther as the job and only the job, she had sneaked past his defenses. He might as well admit he cared about her and they were, in fact, friends. Despite all of her blurting and complete lack of filter, she was one of the kindest, warmest, most genuine people he knew. There were no games with her. She said what she meant, always. It was refreshing, if a bit awkward at times.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked when he poked his head outside the shop, package in hand.
“Furious,” he said.
Her face fell. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help, really. Matchmaking is clearly not my strong suit.”
“I’m joking.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “I’m not mad.”
“Did you at least get her number?” she asked.
“No. Why did you want me to?” he asked. As far as he knew, she was the one with an inappropriate crush on him. Why was she trying to pawn him off on others?
“You have your list, Leo. I have mine. If you’re determined to have done with me, you don’t leave me much time to try and fix you.” She linked her arm with his, surprising him again. She wasn’t one for extraneous touch.
He wanted to ask her about the autism, but before he could try, a car crept into his peripheral vision and sped past them.
“What’s wrong?” Esther asked, making Leo realize he’d tensed.
“I saw that car earlier,” he said.
“The tan sedan? Yes, that’s the fourth time I saw it today.”
He stopped short. “Esther, you need to tell me those things.”
“I need to tell you every time I count cars? I do it kind of a lot, along with steps and sidewalk cracks.” She glanced behind them. “One thousand four hundred thirty three since Monday.”
“No, the car. Did you see who drove?”
“Male, wearing a hat and sunglasses.”
“Did you get the plate?”
“Maryland, DTV7205.”
He blinked at her. “Why am I here again?”
“You have the gun. Guns.” She touched his biceps and he laughed.
“Right. Let’s get back and deliver our gift.” He took her arm, wary this time, on the lookout for anyone who might be following.