Kristin Ashe: A Safe Place To Sleep Part 15

I think she pointed to the area where the thigh meets the hip, but I couldn't be sure since I was trying to keep my eyes on the road.

"Mmm."

"She's got an artificial leg now. Two actually."

"She lost both legs?" I was horrified, even if I didn't know her.

"No, one for high heels and one for low heels. Spent two thousand dollars."

"For both?"

"No, each!" she said, the judgment apparent in her voice.

"No kidding!"

"Can you imagine that?"

"No, I can't, Grandma. I simply cannot."

She slowly nodded her head, her lips turned downward.

Well, there wasn't much more to say after that, so we drove the rest of the way in silence. When we got to Grandma's house, I carried in her groceries and then hugged her, promising I'd stop in again soon. I barely heard her last words, spoken as the screen door slammed shut.

"Life's good if you don't weaken," she called out, and I knew exactly what she meant.

It was the Ashe credo. Don't ever let anyone see that something's bothering you. Or better yet, don't let anything bother you. I'd lived most of my life by those words, and they'd served me well. But I'd outlived the words' function. It was time for me to weaken. I'd missed out on too many things by not weakening.

I'd like to say that I went back inside and explained all this to Grandma, but I didn't. I simply got in my car and drove home.

On the early evening news, the lead story was about, of all things, artificial limbs. Earlier in the day, someone had broken into Denver Prosthetics and stolen all the arms and legs. At that hour, the police had no suspects, and not surprisingly, no motives.

I hoped they hadn't gotten Alberta's leg. Either one of them.

I went to see a French movie at the Ogden theater, came home, finished off the People magazine and then almost instantly fell into a deep sleep.

I dreamed, but not the usual dreams. I dreamed I found the stolen arms and legs on top of a Volkswagen camper. I was a hero for returning the missing parts of so many people.

Chapter 14.

The next morning, I was rudely awakened by the ringing phone. I couldn't believe how loud it sounded.

"h.e.l.lo," I mumbled, fumbling to look at the clock. It was 8:30.

"Kris, hi! I'm glad I caught you before you went out," the familiar voice chirped.

"Hi, Mich.e.l.le," I grumbled. "You know good and well I won't be going anywhere for several hours. It's Sunday. I had intended to sleep. What's up?"

"Not much. I've been reading the paper this morning and playing with my cats. Speaking of which, did I tell you about the cute veterinarian I met the other day? I think I'm going to start taking my cats to her."

"No, you didn't, and I don't want to hear about her now. Why did you call me at the crack of dawn?"

"Actually, Kris, the crack of dawn was hours ago, plus a"" she started to protest.

"Mich.e.l.le, what is it?" I practically shouted.

"I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the Botanic Gardens in an hour? I'll bring breakfast."

"I'll be there," I sighed.

This was serious! The Botanic Gardens was Mich.e.l.le's favorite place to express sorrow. That was my first clue something was amiss. My second one came with her rare offer to bring food. For some reason, she always expected me to pick up the snacks.

"I'll see you in an hour, Kris."

"Okay."

"Don't be late."

"I won't," I promised as I set my alarm to capture another half hour of glorious sleep.

"It's about Destiny. 'Bye!" She wisely clicked off before I could conjure up a response.

Well, that did it! Now I was wide awake. What was going on? Did she have more psychic clues to offer me, clues which I'd have to pretend to take seriously? Or was there something wrong between her and Destiny?

I could see the answer in Mich.e.l.le's face when we met at the front gate of the Gardens. She looked like she'd been crying for weeks.

"You look awful," I said, perhaps somewhat in spite because everyone had been saying it to me.

"I feel awful. That's why I look awful."

We paid to get in and headed straight for her favorite pond.

"Here," she thrust the box of donuts at me as soon as we were seated. "I'm not hungry."

"I'm not that hungry," I said eyeing the dozen donuts.

"Eat as many as you want. I'll take the rest home."

"Okay." I bit into a maple donut and settled in on the bench overlooking the pond.

"Destiny and I aren't seeing each other anymore," she said as I started to chew.

I choked on my donut.

I shouldn't have been shocked but I was. Not even so much because their relations.h.i.+p had ended, but because Destiny hadn't said a word to me.

"Whose decision was it?"

"Destiny's, but she's trying to convince me it's mutual."

"What happened?"

"She came over last night and told me it was over. She said she couldn't go on like we'd been a" in a fun, superficial relations.h.i.+p with no strings attached a" and that she wasn't ready for a more serious relations.h.i.+p."

"Huh."

"I ask you, Kris," Mich.e.l.le said, dabbing at her nearly dry eyes with a Kleenex, "What's wrong with fun and superficial? I'd have liked more, or at least I think I would have, but I accepted that she couldn't give more. I just wanted to spend time with her. I didn't care what we called it."

I didn't say anything.

"What's going on, Kris? Ever since you started helping her find her family, she's changed. I can't put my finger on it, but she's different." Mich.e.l.le attacked me with her words.

"I can't talk to you about Destiny, Mich.e.l.le. Can't you ask her yourself?"

"I did, but I still don't get it. I've been going crazy trying to guess what I did wrong."

"I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong."

"Then please, Kris, I beg of you, tell me what's going on."

Because her dramatics at the pond were beginning to draw attention from a gaggle of elderly women admiring a nearby flowerbed, and also because I couldn't resist the pain in her voice, I started to talk.

"Destiny's been going through some rough stuff lately. Has she told you about any of it?"

She shook her head.

Great!

"Well, I can't either. I wish I could, but I can't violate her trust. All I can say is that it's terribly hard and no human being who had any feelings at all could remain unchanged by what she's discovering."

"It's that bad?" Mich.e.l.le asked meekly.

I nodded.

"I never knew. I thought it was about me. She never tells me anything."

"No offense, Mich.e.l.le, but in the whole scheme of things, you're a very small part of Destiny's life right now."

"Too small, I guess."

"Probably."

"Maybe that's why she broke up with me. That's kind of what she said last night."

"Maybe."

'Thanks, Kris."

"For what?" I asked. I already felt bad enough a" both about what I'd said and what I'd withhelda" without her thanking me.

"For being my friend."

"You're welcome," I said, feeling even more guilty.

I'd always been Mich.e.l.le's friend, but really, I had never let her be mine. For years, we'd shared meals and friends and activities, but I'd never really shared myself. Not the deepest, darkest parts. Not the parts I'd shared with Destiny.

I'd let Mich.e.l.le lean on me, but I had never trusted her enough to lean back. Partially, I distrusted her because she always acted so frivolous and carefree. I wasn't sure she'd understand my true despair, because she never seemed to feel much herself.

If I knew her, she'd be over Destiny in a week, two at the most. I felt bad for her and yet at the same time, happy for myself. Destiny and I had found each other, and it was a miracle. A miracle Mich.e.l.le would never comprehend.

We were both silent awhile. I busied myself staring at my reflection in the j.a.panese pond.

"How did you leave things with her?" I finally spoke when the silence became uncomfortable.

"What else a" we'll be friends. The story of my life," Mich.e.l.le said without bitterness.

"Maybe you can see each other again when this is all over," I suggested, though I doubted it.

"Maybe," Mich.e.l.le's tone echoed my doubt. "In the meantime, I think I'll schedule an appointment with that cute vet."

"Is one of your cats sick?"

"No, but an extra set of vaccinations probably wouldn't hurt them, would it?"

"I don't have the foggiest. For all I know, it could kill them." I hoped the disgust didn't show in my voice. "Maybe you should check first."

"Maybe you could call Gallagher and ask her," she suggested because she knew Gallagher made her living in Provincetown as a veterinary technician.

"Nice try, Mich.e.l.le. I'm not going to call Gallagher. You've got her number, call her yourself if you're that concerned." Sometimes, Mich.e.l.le's insensitivity galled me.

I plucked a glazed donut from the box and took a huge bite out of it, marveling at Mich.e.l.le's bionic heart, capable of erasing women from her memory in a single night. When she spoke, her words diluted some of my scorn.

aIall miss her, Kris."

There was nothing I could say to that. I kept on chewing.

Chapter 15.