“How’s Paige handling it?”
“That’s a tricky question. She understands what’s going on but she’s also trying to sort of pretend nothing is different for the most part. We may have to have a bigger conversation with her about it in the future.”
“We?”
“Me and my grandmother.” She hitched a thumb toward the back porch and said, “She’s back there on the porch doing crosswords. Want to meet her?”
“I do love a good crossword,” Jack said, getting to his feet. “But I have these interviews to get off to.”
Rachel walked him to the door as he wolfed down the remainder of his sandwich. When he opened the door and stepped out, he remained there for a moment. It was clear that he wanted to say something else but couldn’t find the words. There was something like sadness in his eyes when he finally spoke.
“You know, when this leave of absence is up and you’re not…better…what does that mean? You and I won’t be working together anymore, right?”
Rachel knew the answer was an almost definite yes but could not bring herself to admit it. So she tried to lighten the moment with a joke. “That depends on if you continue to come by my house to pick my brain during lunch.”
He smiled and shook his head. “There’s a tumor in your head, Gift. You keep making pick my brain comments and I’m not going to be able to take those freely offered puns.”
“Understood. You be careful out there, Jack.”
“Same to you.”
He slowly walked away, but Rachel did not close the door right away. She watched Jack make his way to his car and, like him, wondered if their working relationship had come to an end and she hadn’t even realized it until now. And if their working relationship was seeing its last days, what did that mean for them? What did that mean in regards to the efforts to bring in Lynch and any last hoorah she might be able to manage with her FBI career?
And if she let him go, what was she supposed to do? More chores? Sit around idly until Paige got home? Jesus…was that the life that was waiting for her if she let this damn tumor control her life from here on out?
Not me, she thought. Nope, that’s just not me.
It all rushed by like wind strewn with debris, rushing across her brain and swirling her up in it like a miniature tornado. She made a decision in that moment that she knew was based on emotion rather than logic but was acting on it before she could take it back.
When she did close the door, a tear trickled down her cheek and she didn’t bother wiping it away. What she did do, though, was turn back around and rush to the door. She did it without thinking, following her heart and her stronger impulses.
“Jack!” she yelled.
He was already at the car but when she called him, he wheeled around with a startled look on his face. “Yeah?”
“Give me a second, would you?”
“A second for what?”
“To speak with my grandmother,” she said. “I’m coming with you.”
“You’re what?”
But she didn’t bother answering. Instead, she ran to the back porch to tell Grandma Tate that she was leaving with her partner and might not be back for several hours.