CHAPTER THREE
It was an overcast day, a breeze passing through the park as if reminding everyone that autumn was on its way. Rachel walked along one of the many sidewalks that led through the park, with her daughter to her left and her grandmother on the other side of Paige. They’d just left the ice cream truck, all three of them carrying their own treats. Paige had a bit of her cotton-candy-flavored soft serve trickling down her arm.
“Okay,” Rachel said, looking at Paige. “You took the day off from school, you went to the pool with Grandma Tate, you got ice cream, and we’re having pizza for dinner. Is there anything else you want to do?”
Paige thought about it for a moment as she licked her ice cream cone. With wide eyes she said, “Is this the park Daddy sometimes took me to? The one with the duck pond?”
“It is.”
“Ooh, can we go see the ducks?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Grandma Tate seemed to be just as overjoyed as Paige at this news. She clapped her hands excitedly, almost dropping her ice cream. “I wonder if they have anything to feed them!”
“Let’s go see,” Rachel said.
As they rerouted themselves and went off in search of the duck pond, Rachel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. It was a gorgeous afternoon and a very touching moment for the three of them, but her mind was partially back on her meeting with Anderson. She couldn’t help but wonder if there might be some repercussions waiting for her if she chose to go back.
Only, you’re not going back, she thought to herself. Whether or not Lynch is caught, you can’t go back. If you do, you’ll have to reveal your diagnosis eventually. You were already a ticking time bomb on the last few cases since you got the diagnosis.
This was easier to admit to herself now that Jack, her partner, knew. He’d been understanding and even helpful, referring her to a doctor who had managed to give her a bit of hope for a small amount of time. Jack knew, Grandma Tate knew, and now Paige knew. Peter, her husband, knew as well. But they’d been separated for about a month now, and living without him in the wake of all of this had been far easier than she’d expected.
She was still at odds with the fact that Paige knew. She’d taken it as well as could be expected for a girl of eight years of age to take such news. There had been some crying, sure, but there had mostly been a relentless barrage of questions. Most of the time, though, things with Paige had been mostly normal ever since Rachel had told her. Like now, as the duck pond came into view and the little girl pulled both her mother and her grandmother toward the water. The ducks, having long since grown accustomed to the presence of humans, scattered listlessly, some retreating and some swimming forward in the hope of snacks.
“Look at that,” Grandma Tate said. She was pointing to a small dispenser by the edge of a little dock that extended out over the pond. It contained little pellets for the ducks. She dug into her purse, grabbed two quarters, and sent Paige out to the dock to get some.
Rachel sat on one of the several benches around the pond, watching her daughter hurry along up to the dock. Grandma Tate sat as well, giving Rachel a reassuring slap on the knee.
“You doing okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You’re sure? I’m certain that meeting with your director couldn’t have been easy on you.”
“It was actually easier than I’d thought it would be.”
She’d gotten used to this over the past two weeks. Now that Grandma Tate knew about the tumor, she’d been doting over her incessantly. Do you need anything? Shouldn’t you be resting? Are you feeling well? On and on and on.
Rachel supposed part of it came from a strange dichotomy between them, wherein Grandma Tate had been diagnosed before Rachel but the treatments she was taking were helping and her cancer was going into remission. In a relationship where Rachel, the granddaughter, was fully intending to have to take care of Grandma Tate, the roles had been quickly reversed. Both women were very much aware of this odd reversal of fortune, and it resulted in a strange little dance.
On the dock, Paige had gotten the pellets for the ducks. She’d placed them into a plastic container by the dispenser and was shaking it joyously at her mother and great-grandmother.
“Well, we’d better get over there before she shakes the whole dock down,” Grandma Tate said. She got up and started in that direction but turned back to Rachel. “You’re okay with the rest of your days being like this?”
Rachel saw the glimmer of tears in her grandmother’s eyes. But she also saw her daughter, bright and beaming by the pond with sticky ice cream trails on her forearms. She saw the afternoon light coming down across the trees and over the pond. It all seemed to make the idea of Alex Lynch seem abstract. It made her career as an FBI agent seem like a very vivid dream she’d once had, even so soon removed from Anderson’s office.
“Yeah, I think so,” she said.
Grandma Tate nodded and looked back over to Paige. “You coming?” she asked Rachel.
“Yeah. Just…give me a second.”
Grandma Tate walked over to the dock and joined Paige. Rachel watched them for a moment, generational bookends that helped her to get a better grasp on the flow and depth of life. She’d opted not to go out and join them just yet because she wasn’t quite sure she’d answered her grandmother’s question as honestly as she should have.
Because the truth of the matter was that she wasn’t sure if she could spend the rest of her days like this. Even if she got motivated and pulled out her very short bucket list, traveling while she still could, she wasn’t sure she’d be satisfied. While she’d meant everything she told Director Anderson earlier in the day, the idea of just coasting through during her last few healthy months felt like defeat. The competitive and determined part of her wanted to run until the wheels came off, to keep working until she couldn’t get out of bed in the morning.
And if Anderson had caved and placed her on the Alex Lynch case, she supposed that’s exactly what she would have done.
Defeat or not, the sting of it lessened when she looked at Paige, though. A girl who was going to have to grow up without a mother—and with a father who was probably going to be processing guilt and a series of what-ifs for most of his daughter’s childhood.
So maybe these last few days shouldn’t be all about her. Maybe she should focus them around Paige. Maybe she should let Paige know how much she was loved and that even in the face of an approaching death, there was nothing that could separate Paige from the love her mother felt for her.
Looking out, she watched Paige and Grandma Tate start tossing out pellets to the ducks. Paige giggled and laughed as the ducks came rocketing over, skimming effortlessly over the water. Slowly, Rachel stood and made her way over. As she did, her heart beamed with love for the two people standing in front of her, even as she could also feel the slight shadow of a raincloud over her every thought, a cloud that cast a shadow of doubt—a shadow that she imagined likely took the shape of Alex Lynch.