Page 11 of Rescued By Midnight

“You—you can't—” Mitchell sputters, mustache twitching.

To Mitchell, Baldwin says, “I am asking you, for your own benefit, to let this go. This man you're antagonizing? He will find every dirty thing you've ever done or ever hoped to do?—”

“I haven't done anything, so you won’t find anything.” Mitchell shrugs. “I'm clean.”

Baldwin doesn't dignify that obvious bluff with a response. Someone like Mitchell is always dirty. And I, personally, will relish digging into whatever shit he’s been hiding. Never engage with pigs, my grandmother used to say, quoting George Bernard Shaw. You both get dirty, and the pig likes it.

Today, I’m the pig. Let Mitchell wrestle with me. He’ll regret it in the end.

“Sprechter, time to go.” Baldwin turns his scowl on me. “You've had your look around.”

I hold myself straight, shoulders back, and return to my car. Fuck. I screwed up. This is the kind of shit Cody would pull, not me. I'm usually the one holding him back from acting impulsively.

Anyone else, even confronting the bully of the poorest, most abused client in distress, wouldn’t cause me to explode like this.

But it’s Alice they’re talking about. Alice.

LANDON - THEN

It was the fourth week that Alice showed up to grief counseling. When Inderjit asked if anyone had something to share, Alice stood.

“All my parents wanted was a safe place for our family. They wanted me to grow up feeling loved and cared for. They wanted a life for me that wasn’t full of things like short-form videos and quick entertainment. They wanted something more spiritual.” She wiped away an errant tear. “So I’m still going to church, and I’m trying to avoid the things my parents hated. But it’s weird, now. I don’t get to tell them about the book I read, or the sewing project I finished. I can’t ask my mom questions about cooking, or ask my dad for help with gardening problems. It’s like I stepped from one world—one where my parents were alive. And into a new one that doesn’t make sense. They’re dead. Nothing makes sense. It’s like I’ve stepped into…”

“Wonderland,” Cody finished for her.

She chuckled, along with a few other people in the meeting. “Yeah. I’m Alice, and I’m in Wonderland. And it’s terrifying and it sucks.”

Inderjit ended the meeting soon after that. Meanwhile, my heart was still breaking for this twenty-one-year-old girl who had lost so much but was still fighting.

Cody went off to talk to an older man who had just lost his wife. Cody was like the unofficial grief welcome team. Inderjit had even offered him a job at one point. But Cody didn’t need or want the money; he just wanted to help.

I found myself standing next to Alice at the beverage station. Her sweater had fallen to the side, exposing the delicate slope of her shoulder. It was one of my favorite places on a woman’s body—the perfect place to kiss. Soft. Bearing her taste, her intoxicating scent.

Nope, too young. I blinked to clear my head. I had no business thinking about a twenty-one-year-old like that.

“Are you and Cody friends?” Alice asked.

“Oh.” It took a second for my perverted brain to come back online. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“I see you arrive together. I didn’t know if maybe you’re…you know. Together.”

I chuckled. “No, we’re not together. We’re close friends. I’m Landon, by the way.”

“Alice.” She shook my hand. Her touch was soft, hesitant. Almost like she wasn’t used to shaking hands.

Or maybe I was creeping her out and she was trying to limit our contact.

I let her go quickly, hoping to put her more at ease. “That was really beautiful what you said earlier, about your parents.”

“Thanks. Cody was right. This support group is really helpful. I’m learning a lot about grief. Maybe I’m compartmentalizing, and trying not to feel my grief by learning more about it as a concept?” She scrunched her nose, looking thoughtful. “That’ll be something to put in my journal, I guess. Either way, it’s helping.”

“I’m glad. I know it’s hard to believe when it’s so fresh, but it does get easier over time. More time than we’d think. But, it eventually gets easier. Never one hundred percent better, though.” I stared down at my coffee, waiting for another pulse of sorrow. It came, but it faded quickly.

“That makes sense.” She reached forward and rested her hand on my forearm, just for a second, before pulling away. “It was nice to meet you, Landon. I’ll see you next week?”

“I’ll be here.” I raised my coffee in a mock salute and tried not to watch her walk away.

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