Page 57 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

“You were like that even when you were a kid. You never had time for any bullshit.”

She grinned, and in the expression, Veronica caught a glimpse of the girl she’d been before all this happened to her, quirky and bright and brusque but also a lot of fun. Across the room, the woman who’d taken a photo with her Olympic hero kept stealing glances. Veronica grasped a little better the enormous losses Mariah had suffered.

The server brought drinks and appetizers. Veronica inhaled the mingled scents. Henry took some up-close photos, then reached for the salted lassi.

“What do you think you’re going to do, going forward?” Henry asked before sipping. “Oh, wow, that’s excellent.” He offered it to Veronica, who used a second straw. She sipped the sharp, yogurty flavor and winced. “Maybe a little too intense for me.”

“How should I know?” Mariah said. “I’m not exactly well-rounded.”

“You could teach,” Henry said.

“Yeah, right. Have you met me?”

“Not adults, but maybe kids.”

She shrugged. “That wouldn’t be so bad. But really, I just think it will be painful to be anywhere around the slopes. It’ll break my heart every day.”

Veronica said, “I get that.”

“You’d get used to it,” Henry added. “Seems a shame to give up the mountains and snow, which I know you love.”

“Maybe.” She shook her head. “I haven’t come up with anything yet. Maybe when we get back.”

“Fair enough. You have plenty of healing to do yet.”

As if to deflect the attention away from her future, Mariah said, “What about you? You can’t just drift around shooting arty photos.”

“Well, I could, actually. It’s enjoyable.”

“Not very challenging, though.”

He paused, picking up thenimbusoda. He tasted it, nodded, and continued, “Not everything has to be challenging. I’ve had a lot of challenge in my life. I want a little more calm now.”

“Oh, you’re old now, is that it?” Mariah grinned at him.

“Maybe.”

Veronica tasted the rose lassi. “That’s so good!” She offered it to the others, and made some notes on her phone.

Henry said, “I actually am going to do some teaching. Arapahoe Community College hired me to do some adjunct teaching on news photography.”

To her surprise, Veronica felt strangely sad about that. To cover, she said, “You’ll be good at that.”

“Thanks.”

And she could imagine him in a classroom, with adoring young men and women, teaching how to get the best shot, how to remove yourself from the scene. Why would she be disappointed in that?

Well, Spence. His profession had kind of made him a bit of an asshole. But was it the profession or the man?

“What’s on your mind?” Henry asked, straightforward as ever. “Thinking about your future, too?”

“A little. It’s still kind of new for me. It takes some time to let all the realities sink into your body, right?”

“Exactly.” Mariah tried the Collins. “Ooh, that’s excellent!” She passed it across the table. “But if you were going to do whatever you wanted, what would it be?”

The question made her feel vulnerable. “Something to do with history? Writing? Travel?” She rubbed her hands on her thighs, realized her shoulders were at her ears, and forced herself to relax. “This whole thing, researching cafés and making connections to create a story, is fantastic.”

“Do it,” Mariah said, and then with a droll tone, “I hear the biggest name in the arena bit the dust.”