The thought was almost laughable to her. Except that she would never be at a point where she could laugh about anything to do with Steve Smith. “I don’t.”
Lila hesitated. And then asked, “Do you have a plan, then?”
“No. I just....”
“You need time to figure out how to deal with an abusive ex-husband while married to a good man.”
She didn’t answer.
“You know there’s family counseling for survivors of abuse and their family members.”
“I know.”
She’d insisted that Max attend a program with her before she’d agreed to marry him.
But they all assumed the threat of abuse was in the past.
“I’m glad you’re helping Romar. Sara said she thinks it’ll go a long way toward her healing. Romar has somehow associated her inability to communicate with her abuse and also with her low self-concept.”
Lila was now speaking to her as a professional to another professional. Jenna noticed the shift.
And she was grateful for it. They spoke about a couple of other residents who could benefit from Jenna’s services.
And then Lila said, “Because you wish it, you will remain Jenna McDonald here,” she said. “I ask only one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That if you’re in trouble, you come to me right away.”
“I will.” She would if she could.
She liked the woman. Felt a peculiar kinship with her. And didn’t miss Lila’s skeptical look at her last comment.
She knew Jenna was up to something.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“YOU DIDN’T TELL me the dinner date was in a casino.” He’d changed from scrubs into jeans and a pull-over, but was still wearing the lime green high-tops he’d had on that morning. He’d been in a hurry.
Caleb had clung to him when Wayne Stanton and his wife, Maria, had first arrived. But Maria soon had the toddler engaged and Max might have been hurt by how easily he’d been able to slip away if he hadn’t been so relieved.
“Detective Kolhase chose the spot.” Chantel, also in jeans, had been pretty closed-mouth about the upcoming meeting, though she’d been talkative on the flight over. Reliving the past. Things he’d forgotten. Like the time Jill had come up behind him while he’d been making a peanut butter sandwich, grabbing his arm from behind in a playful attempt to bind him, and sending a glob of peanut butter from the knife to Chantel’s face. The glob had landed on her upper lip like a mustache and the three of them had laughed until it hurt.
“How do we know what this detective looks like? How do we find her?” And what was she going to tell them?
“She’s in a navy suit, slacks and jacket, and will be carrying a red purse. She’s got short dark hair.”
Lights flashed, music played and the sound of slot machines rang all around them. Max had been to casinos. He’d played blackjack a few times. He’d just never been able to relax and enjoy giving his earnings to chance.
“That must be her.” Chantel’s tone changed from casual to all-business as she headed toward an alcove with a couple of couches and a table along a corridor lined with various eateries.
Diane Kolhase approached them, a confident smile on her face, and a sense about her that she could take the world by the hand and make it safe. She had a table in an Italian restaurant and led them there, letting their waitress know that they’d arrived.
So far he was impressed.
“I’m sorry for all the drama, bringing you here, rather than just meeting in Vegas,” she said as soon as they’d ordered and finished with introductory pleasantries. “But when you mentioned Steve Smith...”
Any sense of relaxation Max might have felt fled. As did his appetite.