More than she knew.
It was probably the same one my mother had worn when my father’s doctor had delivered the news.
The thought of that made me tighten.
Everywhere.
There was nothing left to say besides, “I’m sorry.” Now that I remembered, it was the reason I had come here anyway. “And I want to apologize to the man who greeted me when I came into the library. At least I think it was a man, I can’t be sure.”
“His name is Gregory.” Her hand went to my shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Jesse.”
“Jesse, I’m Bay.”
I smiled. “I know, I saw your name tag.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.” She squeezed a little tighter. “You did nothing wrong that night.”
I sighed. “That’s the reason I came here, because I wasn’t sure what happened. Most of that day is just white fog, so I wanted to speak to you and Gregory and make sure I didn’t do anything to embarrass myself.”
Was that even true?
Was that the real reason I was here?
I had no idea anymore.
“You were fine, trust me.” Her hand fell from my shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Jesse,” she said, and then she walked away.
I said it back to her, and after a few steps she turned toward me and added, “That’s a good one.” She was nodding at my hand, which was still holding the small hardcover.
“You’ve read it?”
“Yes, and it’s one of my favorites.”
“About that night …” I took a breath. “I just want you to know I’m okay.”
I had no idea why I told her that. I didn’t know this girl. What she thought meant absolutely nothing to me. But for some reason I had to say those words and for the same reason she needed to hear them.
“You don’t look all right.”
A laugh burst through my lips. Nothing she had said was funny, I was just so taken back by her honesty.
It was as though she had the formula to unstick my mask. Or maybe when she gazed at me, she didn’t see one at all.
“I thought I was doing an excellent job at hiding it.”
“Don’t we all think that?” she said. “It takes a hider to know one.”
Something wedged into my throat, pushing it all to the surface and words started to come out, “It’s … my dad …” I looked down. I didn’t want her eyes on me. I didn’t want to see her pity. It would make me cry and I didn’t want to do that again today. “He’s not well. It’s something we’ve been dealing with as a family for a very long time. And the other day … the doctor shared the latest results and …” I shook my head. It was all I could do. “It’s not good.”
She walked back over, both of her hands now on my shoulders, sandwiching me between her palms. It was oddly comforting.
“I would ask if you needed any information on his disease, but if you’ve been dealing with it for a long time then you’re well versed.”
“I’m fluent.”
“Is there anything we can do here to help?”
“I came here when I needed to escape. That’s more than enough.”