“We’re in DuPont circle,” Helen said. “The Hill might be the center of the political world, but I believe this is where people like you and me can truly change that world.”
Elliot turned around slowly. Helen didn’t seem like a woman prone to dramatics. If she were making a point, Elliot wanted to make sure she took it in.
“Across the way is the Aspen Institute. The Vice President of the U.S. is currently working with them on solving issues of inequality as they relate to educational access.” She pointed down another street. “The tall building down on the right is the Earth Policy Institute. A block over is the Women’s Policy Institute. Behind us is the Embassy of Tribal Nations, and just out of view is the Progressive Policy Institute. Do you see a trend?”
“I do.” She didn’t just get the point. She felt all its implications stirring inside of her. Her heartbeat accelerated as she realized she stood at the crossroads of change. No— not just change. Progress. This was the kind of place where all her dreams could come true, dreams she hadn’t felt connected to nearly enough lately. A sense of possibility spread through her chest, warming her and lightening her mood like a flame causes a hot air balloon to rise. Here, she could learn and grow, challenge and be challenged. Here, her life could have purpose. If only she could find the courage to face all this potential, she might actually leave behind the confusion that had clouded her vision for too long.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
“Do you need to get that?”
“No,” she said confidently.
“Are you sure?” Helen asked. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long. I just wanted to show you the world you’d be committing to if you accepted this position.”
“Accepted?”
Helen smiled. “That wasn’t an offer, far from it. We still have several more days’ worth of interviews to conduct, and then there will likely be a week of discussion and at least another week of reference-checking, but you impressed some people in there today.”
“Were you among them?” The question might’ve come across as bold, but she wanted to know, and Helen seemed like the type to respect people who spoke their minds.
“Let’s just say you weren’t what I expected. You left me wondering if I’d misjudged your initial application or misjudged the potential I saw in you during the interview,” she said seriously. “Maybe I brought you out here as a test. I wanted to see you away from the shine and polish of a closed interview.”
“The DuPont Circle test,” Elliot said, making one more slow turn, trying to store up the sense of pride and purpose so she could carry it back to Darlington with her. Then looking back to Helen, she asked, “And, did I pass?”
“I think you may have,” Helen said with another brilliant smile. “But that’s no guarantee of a job offer. I’m only one vote.”
“Of course,” Elliot said, rocking back and forth on her heels in an attempt to keep from jumping up and down triumphantly. “I completely understand.”
“I’d better get back to the office. Do you need directions back to your hotel?”
“No, I think I’ll walk around here for a bit.”
Helen extended her hand. “It was a pleasure to spend time with you today, Elliot. I hope to see you again very soon.”
Elliot shook her hand. “The feeling is mutual.”
She watched Helen walk back across the street before giving a little fist pump. She’d nailed the interview, and whatever Helen had seen in her had likely sealed the deal. She didn’t want to count her chickens, or whatever, but standing there in the middle of Washington, D.C., she could almost sense her future being willed into existence. The shot of confidence was exactly what she needed to be able to see herself the way Helen saw her. For the first time in a long time, she truly believed she had what she needed to capitalize.
Her phone buzzed again. This time steadily, instead of the single pulse of a text message. Still gazing from one imposing building to the next, she absentmindedly fished the phone from her pocket. She glanced at the caller ID and smiled even more broadly as she read “Rory St. James.” She couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather share her exhilaration with. Then as quickly as the thought sparked, it faded, replaced with the image of dark eyes staring intensely into hers. Maybe there was one person she’d rather share the news with, but that wasn’t an option.
She accepted the call. “Rory, you’ll never believe the day I’ve had.”
“Good or bad?”
“Well, they didn’t give me the keys to the kingdom straight away, but I feel as though I’m destined to have them someday.”
“Brava, Elliot, though I’m not a bit surprised. I feel as though I raised you myself.”
“Is that why you’re calling? So sure of your influence you wanted to gloat?”
“I wish it were, and I don’t want to put a damper on your big day …”
“Uh-oh.” She backed onto a park bench and lowered herself gently. “I’m sitting down now.”
“I really am sorry. It’s not like there’s anything you can do from there, but Beth thought you needed to know before you got back.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, it’s not me, but Beth is at the hospital now.”
“God, what’s wrong with Beth?”
“No, it’s not her. It’s Kelly.”
Her stomach flipped as all the breath left her lungs. “Kelly?”
“Her dad, he’s had another stroke. A big one this time, and I’m afraid the prognosis isn’t good. It could be a matter of hours.”
“Hours.”
Elliot looked around once more, but everything had gone so gray and dull. She probably should’ve taken a moment to consider how quickly Kelly’s distress could make her dreams seem small and distant, but all she could think about was how she could get back to Darlington as quickly as possible.
“Elliot. Are you still there?”
“Yes,” she said resolutely. “I’m on my way.”
“I’m so sorry,” the young doctor said, unable to look her in the eye. “I’ve spoken with Doctor Patel, and she’s shared your father’s images with several of her colleagues. They’re all in agreement that while other options might prolong his life, there’s little hope of a significant recovery, and the likelihood of him surviving a transport, much less a surgery, is virtually non-existent.”
Kelly pressed her index finger to her temple, trying to stem the headache point there, but to no avail. “So, you’re telling me we’re just out of options.”
“I’m sorry, but in his weakened state—”
She waved him off. He couldn’t tell her anything the parade of doctors hadn’t told her all day long, and she’d lost the will to badger them. She couldn’t bully medical facts any more than she could force time to stand still.
Time. She didn’t have nearly enough left.
Suddenly, all the hours she’d spent at work trying to hide from her problems or feign control seemed small and wasted. She should’ve been here all along. She should’ve said more. She should’ve touched his hand, stared into his eyes, and memorized the contours of his lopsided smile. The regret pushed so hard against her ribs she feared they might crack.
“Kelly?” Beth asked softly. “What can I do?”
“Nothing.” She turned back to the young doctor. “Can I see him now?”
“Of course, but he’s in and out of lucidity. He doesn’t know where he is, or even necessarily who he is. And his sight has suffered from the pressure on his brain, as well. There’s a good possibility he won’t recognize you.”
How much more could she bear? Even their final minutes might have already been stolen.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Beth asked.
She shook her head.
Beth squeezed her hand gently. “I’ll be right here. You don’t have to face anything alone.”
She remained aware enough to realize she’d likely appreciate the gesture at some point, but right now no one else’s presenc
e mattered. Her life, so much of it, consisted of her father and her, side by side, the two of them against the world. It seemed only fitting for things to end the same way.
She pushed open the door to his room and stepped slowly inside, steeling herself for the worst. But as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she breathed her first sigh of relief all day.
He looked the same. Whatever trauma had attacked his brain carried few outward signs. His dark hair was perfectly combed, streaks of gray lending a distinguished quality. His jaw and cheekbones beneath pale skin gave him a commanding profile, even with his diminished weight. For his age he’d remained rather handsome, and if not for the tubes and wires along his arms and under his nose, he would’ve appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
She pulled a chair close to the rail of his bed and sat down as quietly as she could against the faux leather finish. She took his large hand in both of hers, examining the wrinkles over knotted bones. How many times had she held that hand over the course of her lifetime? In crowded spaces, in tense moments, in joy and in fear, she’d always reached for him.
No, that wasn’t true. There’d been times when she would’ve loved to hold this hand, times she’d almost reached out but didn’t. Could she have? Should she have? She hadn’t wanted him to worry, or think less of her, or God forbid, blame himself. Would he have seen a reason to cast blame?
She’d never know now. And wasn’t that what she’d wanted? Hadn’t she given up so many things in order to protect him, or more accurately to protect herself from the possibility of letting him down? In that, she’d triumphed. He would never be embarrassed of her. He’d never be disappointed. She’d never have to have the conversation she’d sacrificed so much to avoid. Why couldn’t she take solace in that knowledge instead of sitting here wondering what might’ve been?
He stirred, slightly at first, just the twitch of his fingers, then the loll of his head toward the side closest to her. She stilled, her breath held painfully as his eyes slowly fluttered open. They were as dark as her own, but they didn’t focus under the thin sheen of disorientation.
“Dad?”
He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. If not for the steady beep of machines, she might have thought he wasn’t really there at all.
“Dad, I’m not sure if you can hear me or not.”
He gave no response.
“I’m right here beside you.”
Still he stared blankly as if looking past her or through her.
She remembered the doctor’s comment about him not remem-bering where he was, or even who he was. “You’re at the hospital.”
His forehead wrinkled slightly as if he were trying to process, but nothing else about his expression changed. She bit her lip to keep from crying. He wasn’t there. Not really. She was too late. Whatever she should’ve said would remain unspoken, or at the very least unheard. She was selfish to wish for more anyway. She couldn’t make these moments about her. She had to try to offer what little comfort and peace she could.
“Dad, you’re not alone. I’m right beside you.”
His brow smoothed out again at the sound of her voice.
“It’s me, Kelly.”
His hand twitched, his fingers curling in as if he’d tried to squeeze her hand, and his pupils dilated.
“I’m right here with you. I’m not sure if you can hear what I’m saying.”
His eyes focused and his mouth opened, first to a series of deep breaths that caused his chest to rise and fall dramatically as if each one took great effort.
“You can hear me,” she said more for her own benefit. “It’s Kelly, Dad.”
“I know.” He wheezed the words more than spoke them, but they were still intelligible.
“You do?” Tears filled her eyes.
“I know … who … you are.”
She squeezed his hand tightly. “I love you, Dad.”
“I know who …” He sucked in a heavy labored breath. “You are.”
“Good.” The word sounded every bit as jagged as his.
“I … know who … you are.”
The beeps from his machine came more quickly, and a dull hum grew to a steady buzz. Something behind him seemed to be spinning or inflating.
“Okay, Dad.” The panic rose in her. “Just relax.”
He shook his head. “Need to know.”
“You do,” she said as a light in the corner of his monitor flashed red.
“I know … who … you … are … Kelly.”
Tears ran down her face now as she leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I know you do. I love you.”
“Love you,” he whispered, his voice sounding faint against the roughness of his breath. “Know you … love you.”
An alarm sounded as his eyes fell closed. She sagged against him, her forehead pressed to his as nurses rushed in.
She heard nothing. She saw nothing. Chaos reigned around them, but none of it mattered. None of it really existed. For as long as she could remember, it had been the two of them facing the world, and that is how they would face his exit from it.
She remained huddled against him, his hand in both of hers as slowly all the beeps and whirs, all the labored breath and rustling, all the shuffle of feet and whispered condolences faded back into silence.
Slowly she pulled away, straightening her back one resistant vertebra at a time. She stared down, the shock and horror filtering through the haze.
Her dad was gone.
The only constant she’d ever had, had just left the earth. She would never hold that hand again. She would never share another meal with him. She would never hear him working in the next office over.
Her breath grew shallow and raspy, the whoosh of it echoing through her own ears. Her thoughts raced at dizzying speeds. She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t fix this. No one could fix anything.
Done.
Over.
Never.
The words swirled at a frantic pace. The crushing sense of helplessness caused her knees to buckle, but she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t breathe here.
Turning blindly, she tried to flee only to find herself caught in Beth’s arms. The familiar resting place almost broke through the frantic rush of fear and grief, but as Beth held her, stroking her hair and whispering soft shushing sounds, loneliness only compounded. She couldn’t find solace in Beth’s arms. It didn’t exist there for her, not anymore. Another door closed for good.
She pushed Beth roughly away. She couldn’t be near anyone, anymore. She had to face this alone. Alone was all she had. She could barely see to find the door, but once she did she ran, wildly.
Grief-stricken, she careened down the hall toward nothing and no one until suddenly the haze parted enough to reveal Elliot in her path. Could she really be there? After everything Kelly had said and done, everything she’d not said and not done, could Elliot really appear in this time of darkest need? Or had agony called up her image like a mirage rising out of the desert?
Elliot opened her arms wide, and the final piece of Kelly’s stability crumbled. She fell into Elliot, having only the will to allow herself to be held as sobs wracked her body into oblivion.
Elliot caught Kelly and braced them both against the tidal wave of grief slamming through her. Elliot wanted to wrap all the way around her, to absorb her pain completely, to take it on herself and lift the unbearable burden from Kelly’s strong, proud body.
She didn’t ask what had happened. She understood sorrow of this magnitude only came from an ending. She’d learned enough about Kelly in the past two months to recognize that the bond she’d shared with her father made up more than a portion of her sense of self. She also knew, no matter how much she wanted to that she could not alleviate any of her anguish in the moment. She could, however, stand beside her, prop her up, hold her close, and make sure she understood that no matter what the immediate future might bring, she would not have to face it alone.
“I’m right here,” she whispered, stroking Kelly�
�s long, dark hair. “I’ve got you.”
Kelly continued to sob, her face buried in Elliot’s chest until her tears soaked through both their shirts.
“Let it all out,” Elliot whispered, increasingly aware of eyes on them. She wouldn’t shrink from their gaze. Surely they saw devastation of this sort in hospitals all the time, and yet she understood how much Kelly hated to be the subject of gossip. The thought of other people watching her moment of devastation might be too much to bear at a time like this. Elliot wanted to throw a cloak over them both and usher Kelly to safety like a mother covering her children from the rain, but she had no cloak and nowhere to take shelter. Instead, she held her tightly, her muscles absorbing the shakes rumbling through Kelly with each ragged breath. She would stand firm amid the swirling emotions, but with each passing moment she worried that holding Kelly this way might create another storm for them down the road.
She looked up and down the hallway, challenging anyone to question them, but no one would make eye contact. Every person turned away, either from the rawness of emotion or their unwillingness to let any of their own suspicions show through. No one could hold her gaze until down the hallway a single woman stepped into view, her eyes a piercing blue even at a distance.
They stood, staring at each other for several heart-wrenching moments as recognition played plainly across Beth Deveroux’s features, followed by understanding. Her lips parted and her chest fell on a silent sigh, then her blue eyes flickered skyward as if lifting a prayer to the heavens. Which one of them was she praying for?
When their eyes met again Elliot could no longer separate all the emotions swirling there.
Kelly sucked in another body-shaking breath, pulling her attention back to where it was most needed.
“I’m right here,” Elliot whispered again, burying her face in Kelly’s hair and breathing the now-familiar scent of her. Her own chest felt as though it might be cracking open in the face of the heartache surrounding them all.
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