Woman on the Edge(49)

Morose in Chicago: I don’t want to talk about it. I’m trying to move forward. Make a new life for myself. Be happy again. I think a child would give me a sense of purpose.

Lost and Confused: I wish that’s the way I felt. I’m afraid I’ll never be happy again. I’m scared all the time. And there’s no one I can really talk to about how I feel.

Morose in Chicago: I’m here if you need to talk. It’s hard when you can’t talk to the people in your life. And I know what it feels like to be scared all the time. I really do.



It took Nicole a moment to identify the feeling in her chest. It wasn’t anxiety or fear. It was the release that came from an instant connection to another person. Already this nameless woman from Chicago was helping her feel more like herself. This wasn’t psychosis. She just needed a little help.

There was a light knock at the door and her phone buzzed with a text from Tessa.

I’m back!



Shit. Nicole couldn’t possibly tell her she was messaging with a complete stranger, who made her feel more understood than Tessa could right now. Nicole could never hurt her like that. She slammed the computer shut and went to answer the door.

Tessa held two bags in her hands and a big smile lit up her face. “I brought dinner and good news.” She peered at Nicole. “You look a bit better. There’s some color in your cheeks.”

Nicole nodded, and Tessa closed the door behind her.

“I think asking for some more time before going back to Breathe eased a lot of my stress,” Nicole said, and followed Tessa to the kitchen. Quinn was in the wrap, her tiny hand playing with her mother’s face.

Tessa put the bags on the kitchen table, plugged in the kettle, and leaned against the counter. “So I asked Lucinda for your banked vacation time. She wasn’t happy with the seventh as your return date.”

Nicole bristled. Couldn’t Tessa see she was trying to get better? And that adding more stress wouldn’t help? “Thank you, Tess. I’ll talk to her myself tomorrow. But you said you had good news.”

Tessa pushed away from the counter and reached for Quinn. Nicole handed her over, though she didn’t really want to. Having her in her arms was a comfort.

Tessa kissed Quinn’s nose. “I do. I’m fiddling with a mix of oils right now for a postpartum line. I should have thought of it immediately, but with you gone, it’s been really busy.”

Nicole felt her face burn with shame. Her inability to function hurt everyone.

Tessa said, “I’m not blaming you. You have to take care of yourself, so you can take care of Quinn. Anyway, lavender, jasmine, ylang-ylang, sandalwood, bergamot, and rose can all ease symptoms of postpartum depression. It’s such a common experience for new mothers, and I think it would sell very well. Lucinda loved the idea. Then something occurred to me.”

If only a new oil could heal her. But now that she’d found Morose in Chicago, at least she had someone to talk to. If Nicole could return to the computer, she’d get better and make it back to Breathe. But Tessa had to leave first.

“Nicki, are you listening? This is important.”

She focused on her friend, who had done so much for her. She wasn’t being fair to Tessa. “Yes. Sorry.”

Tessa shifted Quinn so she was facing her mother. “If you can get an official diagnosis of mental illness, everything will be fine. You could go on short-term disability under the federal Family and Medical Leave Act. And the board legally couldn’t fire you or replace you permanently. If the board knows you’re using yoga and aromatherapy to combat a mental illness, along with medication, and you come back better and stronger, it could even be great publicity for Breathe.”

Admit mental illness? Was Tessa crazy? How could she not see the obvious—that such a diagnosis would put her custody of Quinn in danger. No, she was fine. She would handle this her way. Yes, she was a little mentally unsteady these days, but she had good cause—someone wanted Quinn dead.

She pulled her daughter away from Tessa. “I’m not going on disability and I’m not going to a doctor. I’ve given Breathe everything. All I’m asking for is a few more days. It’s the least they can do.”

“Nicole, there’s no shame in having depression, right? We tell our followers that all the time. It’s what Breathe is all about. Accepting when we need help and finding our way to wellness. What are you so afraid of?”

If only I could tell you, she thought. But she knew she wouldn’t be believed.

“Greg, for one thing,” she said. Which was true, or at least it was part of the truth. “I’m afraid that if I’m diagnosed with postpartum depression, Greg will use that to take Quinn away.”

Tessa raised a brow. Clearly, she thought this was impossible. “He hasn’t even seen Quinn in weeks.” The kettle whistled, and she got up, pouring two mugs of hot eucalyptus tea. “Look, I don’t want to push you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. I just want you to know that I care about you, and I’m worried.”

Nicole was immediately remorseful. Tessa’s concern was fair. “I just need a bit of time to get clarity, you know? I promise. Things will be better soon.”

Tessa brought her a cup of tea. She took a sip half-heartedly. It was scalding, and she jumped back.

“You really do need to call Lucinda,” she said, her tone oddly abrupt.