“How do you plead?” His voice is a booming megaphone.
Doris’ face is defiant as she stands. “Guilty.”
Louisa whispers into my ear, “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I whisper in return. Where would I even start?
Ernesto stands and says, “I’d like to speak on Doris’ behalf, please.”
The judge nods and says, “Carry on.”
“Doris has given forty years of service to the Suicide Soul Placement Program. It’s an exhausting job, and she did not waiver in her duties. Though she cut corners, therefore causing harm to others, she helped thousands. I do not believe her intention was to send Greg to Oblivion. She merely meant to hold him back a little in order to further her own path.”
Doris watches Ernesto speak, her eyes revealing sorrow and maybe even a little bit of love.
Ernesto says, “I suggest that instead of Oblivion, we send her through the Suicide Soul Program as a civilian. She obviously can’t go through grief watch again, but she can take her place in line and go through the standard selection process. And, of course, have the memory of her previous life removed.”
The judge looks from Ernesto to Doris and says, “I’ll give it some consideration. We will reconvene in two segments.” He bangs the gavel and disappears.
I stop at a bodega on the way back to Rochelle’s and buy her some flowers and candy. I took money from Juniper’s purse. Naomi left an envelope in the purse with my name on it so it’s a good thing I went snooping. There was a couple hundred bucks for me, and also a check for ten grand made out to someone named Daisy Moore. Naomi left a note asking me to find the girl’s address in Missouri and send her the money. Good thinking on Naomi’s part to help her friend that way.
Rochelle greets me with a tentative smile. I thrust the flowers and candy toward her.
“Thanks, sweetie. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” She doesn’t step aside for me to enter.
“I just wanted to see you before I go back to Connecticut. Can I come in?”
She nods and says, “Sure.” I follow her in and close the door.
Rochelle lays the flowers on the kitchen countertop. They take up the entire space. She opens the candy and pops one in her mouth. She chews one for a second and spits it into the sink.
“Oh my god, Andy! Do these have almonds in them?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I grab the box and scan the ingredients. “Yeah.”
“Are you trying to fucking kill me?” She opens a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of bright red liquid.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Children’s Benadryl. The liquid works faster. I’m trying to avoid using the EpiPen.”
I don’t know what an EpiPen is, but this is obviously bad. “I’m so sorry. What can I do?”
“You can learn to read a label, you fucking idiot.” She swallows a shot of Benadryl and glares at me.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.” She puts her hands flat on the countertop and looks up at me. “What is wrong with you? You know I’m allergic to almonds.”
“It’s hard to explain. I told you I’m having some memory problems.” I approach her and grab her hands in mine. “It’s going to be okay, though.”
“It’s not really a brain tumor or anything, right? That would really suck right now.”
“No. Just stress and stuff. No big deal.” I lean forward and kiss the top of her head. “I need to go. I’ll see you as soon as possible. I have to get back.”
Rochelle smiles and nods.
“Sorry for trying to kill you,” I say.
“Don’t let it happen again. You need me alive to cook this baby,” she says.
I pull her into my arms and say, “We’re going to figure this out. Together.” I want to tell her I love her, but it wouldn’t be true. But I think I can someday.
“That sounds great.” She returns my hug. It feels amazing.
I’m holding her against my body when I hear it. A sneeze. At first I think maybe the walls are just that thin. Apartments can be that way. But it was too close.
The bathroom door is closed.
I push her gently away from me and say, “Who’s in the bathroom?”
“Nobody.”
I turn away from her and walk toward the bathroom. In the two seconds it takes me to get there she says, “No, Andy,” and “Don’t do it.”
But I do. I open the door.
A tall thin man with pants that hang too low stands there looking at me. His chin sticks out smugly and I don’t know why but I catch his face with a right hook.
That’s definitely not something Luke would have done.
“Tha fuck?” He pushes me out of the bathroom and takes a swing at my face. I duck and hit that smug chin with an upper cut.
When did I learn to fight?
I stop to look down at my fists, these newfound weapons. The man pushes me to the floor and kicks me in the ribs.
“STOP IT!” Rochelle yells. She pulls him away from me just as he’s preparing to land another kick.
“Tell him or I will,” he says. He tugs at his pants. I don’t know why he’s not wearing a belt.
Rochelle’s face falls into a pained expression. I want to stand up and hug her, but instead I stay on the floor.
I sit up straight and say, “Tell me what?” Even though I’m already pretty sure what the answer is, and I really don’t want to hear it.
“It’s Trip’s baby. Not yours. I took the test a few days ago.”
The baggy-pants asshole crosses his arms and nods at me. “That’s right, motherfucker. My baby.” He pats in own chest for punctuation.
He’s punched me in the gut without touching me.
“Why did you do this?” I ask.
Rochelle squats down so she’s eye-level with me. “You knew this was a possibility, Andy. I was going to tell you when I found out, but you didn’t answer my calls. When you showed up here, I just couldn’t do it.” She sits back on her heels. “I knew you’d be a good dad. Even after you ghosted me. I never once thought you’d be gone for good.”
“Tell the fucking truth. It was about the money,” Trip interjects.
“That’s not true. I have my own money,” she says.
I stand up and look at Rochelle. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”
I walk out of the front door. I don’t know if she’s calling to me. I’ve tuned her out completely. My head is too full of regret and grief. It’s an ugly combination. This is where the old me would have probably killed himself.
Chapter 36
Louisa is gone again. I don’t know how I know it, but she is finishing her grief watch right now. The rest of us are waiting in the boardroom for the judge to return. There’s really nowhere else for us to go.
Doris turns to me and says, “Sorry.”
“For which part?”
“For thinking you had the stones for this position,” she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Doris!” Ernesto barks her name in a reprimand.
She rolls her eyes and leans forward. “All right, fine. I’m sorry about Greg. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more thoughtful during the job transition.” She puts her hand over mine. The energy is colder than I expect. “But, my dear girl, you will have to toughen up.”
“I’m plenty tough.” I have no idea how she is still able to make me feel defensive at this point. I shouldn’t give two shits about her opinion of me.
“You care too much. That will not benefit you when all of these souls are your responsibility.”
I consider her words carefully. She’s wrong. She has to be.
“We’ll help you with the transition, Naomi,” Tony says.