Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(36)

"Thank you. I'm comfortable with you, too." She looked over at me and smiled. It was a pleasant smile and I caught myself staring at her and wondering what it would be like to kiss her. I wasn't going to do it; neither of us was ready for anything physical. Still, the thought had entered my mind and I didn't feel instantly guilty. That was progress.

When we'd drunk our coffee, I escorted Leanne to the parking garage where she'd left her car, despite her protests. I couldn't in all conscience let her walk into a practically deserted garage alone.

"Can I drive you to your car?" she asked when we got there.

"No, thanks. The exercise will do me good."

I took the stairs out of the garage and emerged onto the sidewalk. Since my car was ten blocks away, I started the strenuous climb up the Seattle hills.

"Well, what did you think?" I asked Hannah, burying my hands in my pockets. Glancing toward the sky, I resumed my ongoing conversation with her. "I think it went well, don't you?"

There were certain times I felt her presence and this was one of them.

"I hope you're pleased," I said. "I've gotten together with two of the three women on your list."

I couldn't immediately remember the name of the third woman, whom I'd never met. Her cousin I knew fairly well, although we hadn't been in contact since Hannah's death. Until last week. Leanne Lancaster I'd known on a casual basis, and Macy...yes, Macy Roth, that was her name. I knew absolutely nothing about her.

"Why Macy?" I asked.

Silence greeted my question.

"Okay, you're right, I haven't met her yet. I will." Although I hadn't come up with a way to do it...

"You have any bright ideas?" I asked Hannah. "You want me to meet Ms. Roth, so it would help if you had a suggestion or two on how to go about it."

Still no answer. "I am not making a cold call, so you can forget that," I told Hannah. I definitely wasn't phoning this woman out of the blue!

"If you want me to meet Macy, you'll need to show me how." I nodded my head decisively so Hannah would know I was serious.

I reached the parking garage. The night-shift attendant knew me. Paul had been at the garage from the day I joined the practice. It'd been a while since I'd chatted with the older black man.

"Evening, Dr. Everett."

"Hello, Paul."

"Staying extra late tonight?"

"A bit," I agreed. "Good night now." I started to walk away.

"Dr. Everett," Paul said as I turned.

"Yes?"

He smiled and there was a note of approval in his voice. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you seem better."

"What do you mean?"

"You're healing," Paul said. "When you first lost the missus, I was real worried about you. But I can see that you're looking more alive. Your step's a bit lighter."

I thanked him with a smile.

"It really does get easier with time."

"Does it?" I asked, not really believing that was possible.

"It did with me. I lost my Lucille three years ago."

"I'm sorry, Paul, I didn't know."

"No reason you should. I didn't let on, figured professional men and women like yourself don't want to hear about my troubles."

I felt bad that he'd borne this alone.

"Have you...remarried?" I asked.

"No, but I got myself a girlfriend. We play bingo at the VFW on Saturday nights and she talked me into taking dance lessons." He chuckled and shook his head with its patch of unruly white hair. "If only Lucille could see me now. She'd get such a kick out of me on that dance floor."

"You ready for Dancing with the Stars?" I joked.

He laughed outright. "I don't think any TV producer's going to be interested in me."

I raised my hand in farewell.

"Nice talking to you, Dr. Everett."

"You, too, Paul," I said and headed in the direction of my car. I noticed I was smiling when I happened to catch my reflection in the car window.

I glanced upward, imagining Hannah with a satisfied little smirk on her face. "I suppose you're responsible for that conversation, too."

Chapter Fourteen

E ver since my dinner date with Leanne Lancaster, I hadn't been able to get Hannah's list out of my mind. I'd entered into this scheme of hers kicking and screaming and now... Well, now I was still fighting it, but my objections weren't as loud.

I'd connected with Leanne. I wasn't romantically interested in her, but I felt that at some point I could be. I believed the same was true of her. We'd put no pressure on each other. We'd both suffered great loss and while that might be a fragile bond, it gave us each a reprieve from loneliness. Simply put, I enjoyed the evening with her. The hardest part about being alone is...being alone.

Tuesday morning when I got to the office I still felt good, which I attributed to my dinner with Leanne. What had helped, too, was my chat with Paul, the parking garage attendant. That brief conversation had filled me with hope. Like me, he'd lost his wife, but had been able to move forward in life. Granted, with him it'd taken three years but at least he'd shown me that this grief, this allconsuming pain, would abate. Leanne had reminded me that others suffered, too, that I was not unique in my pain, regardless of how it felt. Paul had assured me that, with enough time, suffering became bearable.