Mrs. Anthony turned slowly as if really seeing her for the first time, and she didn’t seem to like what she saw. The woman hooked one bony finger over the rim of her glasses and pulled them lower on her nose to give her a more thorough once-over. “You cannot help me with anything, except to get Miss Rolen for me.”
“I would love to, trust me,” Elliot said with exaggerated sweetness. “But Ms. Rolen is not in yet this morning.”
She made a show of looking at her rose-gold wristwatch. “It’s nine o’clock on a weekday. She’s supposed to open at eight.”
“The office does open at eight, which is why I’m here, but Ms. Rolen had some other business to attend to.”
“When will she return?”
“I expect her in this morning, but I don’t know what time.” She never knew what time to expect Kelly’s arrival or departure, and if she had to guess, Kelly didn’t know, either. Sometimes Elliot would come to work and find Kelly had already been there for hours. Other times she’d arrive to an empty office only to find the coffee already brewed. The same went for evenings as well. Sometimes Kelly would run out for no apparent reason. Other times she’d still be there at eight o’clock at night. She never offered any information about her whereabouts, and Elliot had stopped asking. She suspected Kelly’s father wasn’t improving, only because Kelly had finally relented and given her a key so she could open the office without her. She got the sense that handing over even that little bit of control wounded Kelly, so she reasoned she wouldn’t have done so unless she felt like their situation would continue for at least a while.
“I’ll wait then,” Mrs. Anthony said with a heavy sigh to make certain Elliot understood the extent to which she felt put upon.
“Really, Mrs. Anthony, I’ll gladly help you with anything I can. I’m familiar with your tax file and—”
She bristled. “I don’t want you in my financial information, young … lady.”
The last word twisted the old woman’s mouth the same way it twisted Elliot’s chest. She knew “lady” was still a term of respect in some situations, but this clearly wasn’t one of them. “Well, you had me fill out your forms when you came in last time.”
“I thought you were a receptionist. Had I known Miss Rolen intended to leave you in charge of her business on a regular basis, I would’ve taken my taxes elsewhere.”
“I assure you, I’m more than qualified to input simple returns, and Ms. Rolen personally checks all the work I do.” As in checks and double-checks and sometimes triple-checks. She couldn’t turn around without finding Kelly looking over her shoulder. Some days it felt as though she was still looking for an excuse to fire Elliot on the spot. She liked the challenge though, or she liked the experience it gave her toward bigger challenges. Even the absence of complaint had come to feel like a compliment of sorts, but earning Kelly’s grudging respect obviously meant nothing to Mrs. Anthony, who still looked at her like something she might have to wipe off her shoe. “In fact, I think all you need now is to sign a few forms, and we’ll file your return.”
“Yes, I know. I received a call to that effect.”
“Then, why don’t I pull the file for you so you can be on your way? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you by making you wait in my presence.”
“See, there’s the kind of sass I expect from you people.”
Her face flamed. “You people?”
“I know what you are. You people always flaunt your lifestyle in defiance of God’s will. I am shocked a Christian woman like Kelly Rolen would allow homosexuality to defile her father’s business.”
“Excuse me?” Kelly stepped out of the back hallway, causing both of them to jump. How had she gotten in without either of them hearing? And how long had she been there?
Elliot straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Good morning, Kelly. Mrs. Anthony was just asking for you.”
“I heard,” Kelly said, her eyes darker than usual. “I also heard her make some assertions about your lifestyle and my father’s business.”
“It’s unpleasant,” Mrs. Anthony sniffed, “but women like us have a Christian duty to point out Satan wherever he may hide.”
Elliot stifled a gasp as the comment hit her in the face. Then she thought about shouting, “Boo,” like the devil popping out from behind her desk. She didn’t think the other two women would find the image amusing, but if she didn’t laugh she would no doubt cry.
“Miss Garza is my intern. She works in my office, and I have been charged with teaching her this business. She is in my care and under my supervision. I personally approve any return she processes. She wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t proven herself capable of doing the work,” Kelly said evenly.
Whoa, that was a real compliment with no “but” behind it. Kelly found her capable. She would’ve felt almost gleeful if not for the hint of danger still hovering over the situation. Kelly had yet to raise her voice, but her tone held an edge she’d never heard before, not even in their most tense moments with one another.
“It’s not her work I find issue with,” Mrs. Anthony said.
“Then you find no issue in anything having to do with my office. What Elliot does in her private time is her business.”
“It’s not her private time if she shows up to work dressed like that.” She flicked one hand in Elliot’s general direction as if to make her point.
Elliot looked down at her gray slacks and sweater over a deep turquoise button-up shirt and a silver tie tucked in just below a perfectly executed Windsor knot. Aside from the tie it was a pretty dressed-down look for her. And yet Mrs. Anthony wouldn’t look past the tie, or maybe she would peg her for gay even in a light pink silk skirt like the one Kelly wore today.
She could never pull off the business-shark-with-a subtle-hint-of-femininity look. Kelly, on the other hand, rocked the buttoned-up businesswoman attire. Today she wore low pumps with a navy skirt that hugged her hips and gave just a little flare at her knees. The look was totally inappropriate for minus fourteen degrees, but she guessed Kelly had her reasons for choosing it. She seemed to always have a reason for everything.
“In my office, Elliot is expected to be professional. She’s expected to be proficient. She’s expected to do her work right and treat people with respect. Her job description doesn’t come with a fashion clause,” Kelly said, and Elliot stifled the desire to cheer for her and for feminism in general.
Mrs. Anthony was far from cheering though. “It’s a very slippery slope, my dear. You’ve seen yourself what happens when people of her persuasion are allowed to thrive around normal women. You know what happened to poor Beth Deveroux when Rory St. James returned to town.”
Elliot sprung from her chair ready to fight, but even in her knee-jerk reaction she wasn’t fast enough to get past Kelly, who simultaneously stiff-armed her and leaned close to Mrs. Anthony. “We’re done here.”
Mrs. Anthony blinked in shock. “Excuse me?”
“Elliot, get Mrs. Anthony’s file. All of it.” Her voice was so low and cold Elliot shook off a shiver as she quickly shuffled through a stack of processed returns. Her fingers fumbled through a few tabs before she caught hold of the one she wanted, but she willed her hand not to tremble as she placed the entire folder in Kelly’s outstretched hand.
“Take this with you and don’t come back.”
Mrs. Anthony’s gray eyes were wide and she stuttered. “You cannot be, I am a longtime client, and your father, your father would never—”
“My father is not here,” Kelly said, her voice gravelly with the emotions she always kept in check. “I am, and I don’t want to see you in my business ever again.”
Elliot noticed that for the first time Kelly referred to Rolen and Rolen as her business, not the family business or her father’s business. This anger and the action it inspired were hers and hers alone. She had come to Elliot’s defense, and to Beth’s with even greater fervor. And damn if she didn’t inspire something powerful in the process.
Kelly’s dark eyes burned with a passion she’d never seen there before, and her normally fair skin flushed pink. Her strong, graceful hands didn’t shake, but her knuckles went white where she gripped the thick file that held a lifetime’s worth of shared work. This was no easy break, and yet Kelly made it swiftly and soundly. Elliot felt a shiver of something powerful race up her spine.
Mrs. Anthony finally snatched up the file and gathered her winter coats without bothering to put them on before storming out of the door.
Elliot flopped back into her chair with a heavy sigh, but Kelly remained standing, her gaze fixed on the exit Mrs. Anthony had fled through. The silence stretched between them, and she wondered if Kelly’s pulse pounded through her ears the way hers did. She didn’t move, she didn’t speak, she just stood and stared.
“Holy shit,” Elliot finally said.
“Watch your mouth. This is still a place of business.”
“Okay, but you just threw her out.”
She nodded. “I did.”
“Hasn’t she come here like, forever?”
“She has. Now she’ll go elsewhere.”
“She’ll probably go all over town.”
Kelly covered her face with her hands. “Oh God.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said, dropping her hands and taking a deep breath. “Are you?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” She bent the truth a little for Kelly’s sake. “I’m sorry I cost you a client.”
“You didn’t. You handled that as well as anyone could.”
Another compliment she would examine later, but right now her main concern was how pale Kelly looked as her adrenaline faded. “Why don’t you sit down while I get you some coffee?”
Kelly set her jaw like she might argue, but she either didn’t have the strength or the inclination. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” Elliot said, pouring a mug of steaming coffee, black. As black as Kelly’s hair, as black as her mood. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“I didn’t,” Kelly said as she took the mug and inhaled the steam. “Don’t get a big head.”
“You didn’t do it for me?” Elliot replayed the incident. Kelly had clearly been annoyed from the moment she entered the conversation. Elliot had watched the anger tighten her muscles and color her complexion with each passing exchange, but she hadn’t snapped until Mrs. Anthony had insulted Beth and Rory. Elliot had seen nothing but red in that moment, so she’d assumed Kelly had put herself between them in order to protect her, but maybe she’d had her own reasons.
Beth. That unexpected and unexplained connection again. She rolled the idea over in her mind again, and said almost to herself, “You were protecting Beth.”
“Stop it,” Kelly ordered, her voice once again low and dangerous. “Don’t you go telling her about this. What happens here is confidential. Do you understand?”
She didn’t really think tax law extended to homophobic comments by rude clients, but she wouldn’t argue with her, not now. “I understand, but won’t word get out?”
Kelly hung her head. “I can’t control what other people say. I cannot control the rumor mill. I cannot control much of anything about other people.”
The comment revealed a lot about her mental state, and the ache returned to Elliot’s chest. She went from being awed by her power and fortitude to feeling an overwhelming urge to protect her fragility. “It’s okay. You handled the situation well. You did the right thing.”
“I did what I had to do. No one can treat my staff or talk about my business like she did.” Kelly stood. “If she wants to yell at a gay intern, she needs to get one of her own.”
“Um, thank you?” Elliot asked, not sure what to make of the comment.
“Don’t thank me any more. Just get back to work.”
She didn’t wait for a response before heading back to her office, leaving Elliot to wonder once again what in the hell had just happened.
Chapter Seven
Kelly rounded the now familiar corners of the Darlington hospital hallways. Her dad had been in the same room for over two weeks now. Every time she visited, they hinted at the possibility of moving him to a rehab floor if only he could do one more thing, but that one thing always seemed to change. He’d be awake more but unable to speak, or he’d speak well for a day only to have another seizure. Then once he went three days without any complications he had a sudden and dangerous drop in blood pressure. There seemed to be some new and not easily explained complication every few days. It wasn’t that he was getting better or worse so much as a mixture of both at the same time, so while she entered the same room twice a day every day, she had no idea what version of her father she might find in the bed before her.
Taking a deep breath outside his cracked-open door, she gently peeked in. She’d expected to find him asleep since he slept a lot these days, but this evening he was sitting up, or at least his bed had been propped up to hold him in a seated position. He wore a new set of blue pajamas she’d dropped off earlier, and his hair had been combed. Most surprising was the half smile on his face. While it wasn’t a full, toothy grin, the left side of his mouth had visibly quirked up as he looked at someone opposite him. Kelly pushed the door open all the way to see Beth sitting in a chair near the end of his bed.
Her heart couldn’t seem to decide if it should sink or soar. The joy she felt at seeing her father better than he had been in days was tempered by the realization that Beth had been the one to spark his smile. She couldn’t stop the pang of pain or the rush of regret washing through her. Her father had always liked Beth. What would he have said if—
“Hey, Kel.” Beth turned to face her. “I was just telling your dad how handsome he looks in blue. I may have even suggested that all the nurses would fight over which one of them got to comb his hair next time. I’ve always been so jealous of the dark hair that runs in your gene pool.”
“And I’ve always been envious of your curls,” Kelly said. Maybe envious wasn’t the right word, but she had always admired them on her.
“Isn’t that the way it always goes? Girls with straight hair want curls, and the girls with curls want silky-smooth locks.” Beth laughed.
God, how she missed that sound. She’d come in bracing herself for her father’s condition, but she hadn’t been prepared for the wave of loneliness that accompanied the sound of Beth’s voice. It always surprised her how she felt so much more alone in Beth’s presence than she ever let herself feel while actually alone.
“How you feeling today?” she asked her father in an attempt to focus on something, anything other than the emotions Beth sparked.
He nodded and held up his left thumb.
“Good.” She noted he hadn’t produced the word but had found the motor skills to control his hand. She picked up the chart from the end of his bed and scanned the notes there. She’d come to understand every notation, every abbreviation, and every number recorded. What she didn’t know was what they told her about the future, or if they even could. She wanted answers so desperately, something to cling to, something conclusive to at least say they were going in the right direction. At least her father’s progress got regularly tested and charted. The same couldn’t be said for her own life.
It had been almost three years since Beth had sat on her couch and asked her how she saw their future. Three years since she’d lashed out instead of stepping up. Three years since Beth had walked out of her door, but not quite out of her life. What did she have to show for those three years? She had the same job, the same fears, the same closeted existence, only now she faced them alone. No one to hold at night, no one to call in the middle of the day, no stolen touches, no gentle words whispered, no one’s eyes to meet over shared meals. Three years of nothing and nobody.
No.
Not nothing.
She looked away from the chart and at her dad. Was he nothing? Had he built nothing? He made his own choices, and he made a good life for them. She
could do a lot worse in life than follow his example.
He yawned lopsidedly out of the left side of his mouth.
“Oh no, I’ve worn you out with all my gabbing,” Beth said. “Or bored you to sleep more like it.”
He shook his head slowly and managed to squeak out the word, “No.”
Kelly smiled in spite of her inner musings, but it was Beth who leaned forward and patted his hand. “You’re such a charmer, but you should get some rest and store up that energy for the pretty night nurse who comes on shift in an hour.”
He smiled again, and Kelly watched his fingers tighten around Beth’s hand. Did he feel the cold metal of her ring? Did he understand what it meant for Beth? Could he possibly understand what it meant for his own daughter?
“Dad, I’m going to walk Beth out,” she said. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”
He nodded and gave a little wave.
“He seems to be improving,” Beth said as they stepped out into the hallway.
Kelly closed the door behind her. “It’s a lot of ups and downs. We’d hoped to transfer him to a rehab facility by now, but yes, he seems to be having a good day.”
“And what about you?” Beth asked. “How was your day?”
The muscles in her shoulders tightened to hard knots. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”
Beth smiled. “I don’t know the answers. I’ve heard rumors, but I don’t know what happened for sure, and I definitely don’t know how you feel.”
“An old woman behaved inappropriately in my business. She insinuated some unflattering things about an employee and my faith.”
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