True Places(18)

He turned to Suzanne. A hint of a smile played on her lips, betraying nothing more than the satisfaction of delivering another competent meal to strangers and friends, and hiding all the boredom she probably felt. Boredom, hell, she was probably fantasizing about reading in bed. But business had its necessary evils and entertaining the Beechams was one of them. He cast about for something to talk about and remembered Suzanne’s story from the other night. Now that was interesting.

“Suzanne, tell everyone about that girl you rescued.”

Mia’s eyebrows shot up. “You rescued someone? A runaway?”

Suzanne would’ve preferred telling Mia in private, but here they were. “Not a runaway exactly.”

“How did I not know this? Never mind. If it was Meryl, I may or may not want her back.”

Steena Beecham looked at the others, judging whether this was meant as a humorous remark. Whit smiled to reassure her.

“Her name is Iris.” Suzanne placed her serving of pear crisp on the table and sat back in her chair. She related how she had encountered Iris and driven her to the hospital. “She’d never been in a car before. She jumped over the seat and cowered in the back.” She went on to describe how terrified Iris had been of everyone and everything. “Imagine living by yourself in the woods for years, then being dropped in the middle of an emergency room.” Her tone was not what Whit had expected. She sounded as if she were talking about someone she knew, not a stranger.

Chad said, “It’s hard to believe she couldn’t find her way out of the woods in all that time.”

“She didn’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“It was all she knew. Plus, her parents taught her to mistrust people.”

Whit said, “How do you know that?”

“The police told me.”

He hadn’t been aware the police had contacted his wife a second time. Why would they? Suzanne’s involvement began and ended with bringing the girl to the hospital, or so he had thought.

Malcolm asked, “Are they preppers? Religious fanatics?”

“I don’t think anyone knows,” Suzanne said. “Her mother is dead and her father disappeared. They still haven’t been able to locate any relatives or anyone who knew the family.” She turned to Whit. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you. I spoke with the police again today.”

He was going to ask if she had been the one to make the call but didn’t want to appear to be interrogating his wife. Suzanne was already stretched thin, and he worried about her.

Steena sipped her coffee. “Everyone has family. And one of the girl’s relatives will be happy to take her in and give her a normal life.”

“I don’t know,” Mia said. “I couldn’t get my own mother to take my kids for the weekend.”

Whit laughed with the others and tried to catch Suzanne’s eye. It really was time to start nudging their guests toward the door. But she hadn’t joined in the shared joke. She was concentrating on her hands folded neatly in her lap. He couldn’t imagine what the problem was. It wasn’t as if anything had happened. It wasn’t as if the girl had anything to do with them.

After their guests left, Whit and Suzanne went upstairs and stuck their heads into Reid’s room to say good night. He was reading, as always. Whit knew he should be thrilled, but he wasn’t. What teenager hung out with a book on a Saturday night? Brynn had a swim meet early the next morning and was undoubtedly asleep.

Whit followed Suzanne into their room. “You seemed preoccupied tonight.”

Suzanne sat on the chaise and unzipped her boots. “I was just thinking about how Steena said someone would be happy to give Iris a normal life.”

“She’s probably right. They’ll find a relative somewhere.”

“But that’s the thing, Whit. I wonder what normal even means.”

He had been unbuttoning his shirt and paused. He had a low tolerance for theory or philosophy or wherever Suzanne was going with this, especially as tired as he was. But Suzanne obviously wanted to talk it through. “You mean Iris might never be normal given how messed up her life has been?”

She frowned, the familiar crease over her left eye deepening. “Not really.” She put her boots to the side. “Well, of course she’s different and lacks all sorts of experience and knowledge compared to, say, our kids.”

“I would expect she’s pretty clueless.”

She was silent for a long moment. “I’ve been to see her.”

“Really?” First a police call she didn’t tell him about and now visits to Iris. “Why’d you go?”

“She doesn’t have anyone or anything, Whit.”

He smiled at her. “You’re a soft touch.”

“I feel so sorry for her.”

Whit pulled his pajama bottoms out of a dresser drawer. “They’re taking care of her at the hospital, right?”

“She’s still alone.”

“And when she’s better, Social Services will take it from there.” He stripped off his shirt. “Our tax dollars at work, right?”

Suzanne pursed her lips. “Right.” She picked up her boots and headed into the closet.

He shouldn’t have said that, knowing how Suzanne felt the government should always do more. As a self-made man, Whit wasn’t keen on unlimited handouts. He finished changing and climbed into bed.