Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [37]
Meghann slowly turned around. Her eyelid was thumping like a metronome. “Either that or a Seeing Eye dog. If the other one starts, I'll be blind.”
“Sit down, Meghann.”
“Do I have to?”
“Well, no. I could go home and finish watching Friends.”
“You watch Friends? I would have guessed you tuned in to PBS. Maybe the Discovery Channel.”
“Sit.”
Meghann did as she was told. The comfortable chair enfolded her. “I remember when I hated this chair. Now it seems made for me.”
Harriet steepled her fingers and peered at Meghann over her short, clear-polished nails. “It was a week ago today, wasn't it? When your client's husband tried to shoot you.”
Meghann's left foot started to tap. The plush gray carpet swallowed the sound. “Yes. The funny thing is, the publicity has gotten me clients. It seems women want a lawyer who makes a man that crazy.” She tried to smile.
“I told you you needed to deal with it.”
“Yes, you did. Remind me to put a gold star next to your name on the door.”
“Are you sleeping?”
“No. Every time I close my eyes, I see it all again. The gunshot whizzing past my ear . . . the way he dropped the gun afterward and sank to his knees . . . May rushing to him, holding him, telling him everything would be all right, that she'd stand behind him . . . the police taking him away in handcuffs. Today, I relived it in court.” She looked up. “That was lovely, by the way.”
“It's not your fault. He's the one to blame.”
“I know that. I also know that I handled their divorce badly. I've lost my ability to really feel for people.” She sighed. “I don't know . . . if I can do this job anymore. Today I completely screwed a client. My partner has asked me—ordered me, really—to take a vacation.”
“That might not be a bad idea. It wouldn't hurt you to develop a real life.”
“Will I feel better in London or Rome . . . alone?”
“Why don't you call Claire? You could go stay at her resort for a while. Maybe try to relax. Get to know her.”
“That's a funny thing about visiting relatives. You need an invitation.”
“Are you saying Claire wouldn't want you to visit?”
“Of course I'm saying that. We can't talk for more than five minutes without getting into an argument.”
“You could visit your mother.”
“I'd rather contract the West Nile virus.”
“How about Elizabeth?”
“She and Jack are in Europe, celebrating their anniversary. I don't think they'd appreciate a guest.”
“So, what you're saying is, you have nowhere to go and no one to visit.”
“All I said was, Where would I go?” It had been a mistake to come here. Harriet was making her feel worse. “Look, Harriet,” her voice was softer than usual, and cracked. “I'm falling apart. It's like I'm losing myself. All I want from you is a drug to take the edge off. You know me, I'll be fine in a day or two.”
“The Queen of Denial.”
“When something works for me, I stick with it.”
“Only denial isn't working anymore, is it? That's why your eyelid is spasming, your hands are shaking, and you can't sleep. You're breaking apart.”
“I won't break. Trust me.”
“Meghann, you're one of the smartest women I've ever known. Maybe too smart. You've handled a lot of trauma in your life and succeeded. But you can't keep running away from your own past. Someday you're going to have to settle the tab with Claire.”
“A client's husband tries to blow my brains out, and you manage to make my breakdown about my family. Are you sure you're really a doctor?”
“All I have to do is mention Claire and the walls go up. Why is that?”
“Because this isn't about Claire, damn it.”
“Sooner or later, Meg, it's always about family. The past has an irritating way of becoming the present.”
“I once had a fortune cookie that said the same thing.”
“You're deflecting again.”
“No. I'm rejecting.” Meghann got to her feet. “Does this mean you won't write me a prescription for a muscle relaxant?”
“It wouldn't help your tic.”
“Fine. I'll get an eye patch.”
Harriet slowly stood up. Across the desk, they faced each other. “Why won't you let me help you?”
Meghann swallowed hard. She'd asked