Page 43 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

The Veronica in the mirror today, almost as thin as Fiona herself, was not that woman at all. But what Veronica hated was that she still couldn’t explain how much she and Spence had loved each other. How much time they’d spent talking together about a million things, how many times they’d made love, how many meals they shared. It wasn’t the cliché.It wasn’t.

Even now, she didn’t know how he’d so suddenly fallen in love with someone else, fallen hard enough to break up their family.

Her therapist once said, simply, “It happens every day.”

Meeting her eyes in the mirror, she said aloud, “Shake it off.” She’d wanted a new life. She had it.

The trip today was to visit an address in Brick Lane. It had been listed with the cafés, just an address, with no identifying remarks or insights. Henry parked as close as he could, but it was still a bit of a walk, the streets busy.

Veronica wasn’t sure what she’d expected of the storied neighborhood, long popular with Indian and Bangladeshi immigrants, but it wasn’t this explosion of graffiti and street art, tourist shops selling Brick Lane junk, and tourists in tennis shoes and puffy coats taking selfies. They passed many cafés offering foods from various regions, curries and Bengali specialties and something she thought might be Middle Eastern.

“None of these are on your mom’s list?”

Mariah shrugged. She wore a thin pink puffer jacket that set off her blond hair and blue eyes. She moved more easily today, her cane a more natural part of her gait than it had been. Maybe she’d needed the rest.

Veronica was glad to be out, but her texts had been filled with drama this morning. Amber couldn’t find a place to live, and Jenna was still freaking out over her dad’s threat to pull support.

Although, Veronica had texted to her daughter,you are twenty-five years old. I think you could pay your rent if you put your mind to it.

I mean, of course!Jenna replied.But I’m already working. If I get another job, when would I have time to study?

Veronica quelled her sense of irritation. When she was in college, she’d sometimes juggled three jobs and lived in a hovel with three other people. Not that hovels could be found in Boulder these days, but the point was the same. Maybe you didn’t get to have everything exactly the way you wanted it. She was, after all, a living example of that.Maybe you can find a cheaper apartment.

And bail on my friends?

I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for them to find another roommate.

Why are you being like this? It feels like you don’t even care!

I care,Veronica texted.But I don’t have any way to help you.

Aren’t you making money? Can’t you help?

The request caught her like a splash of ice water.Jenna, you know I have no money after the divorce.

Not even one month’s rent?

No. I have to pay myownrent.

Fine, Jenna texted.Enjoy your grand tour.

Although Jenna meant to bring her down, it did just the opposite. Veronica intended to do just that. She would absorb everything that was in front of her, gobble up every single minute of this rare, fantastic chance to travel.Live.

Like now, as they walked toward a grocery store with fruit stands outside, sheltered beneath awnings. A woman filled a bag with avocados. Veronica stopped. “Oooh. Can we go in here?”

Mariah gave her a long silent look. “You go ahead. I saw a shop back there.” She turned before Veronica could speak.

Veronica realized that it was agrocery store.

“Shit,” she said to Henry. “I’ve been trying not to act differently because I know about what happened to her, and I just stepped right in it, didn’t I?”

Henry watched as Mariah’s pink coat receded. “I think she’s fine,” he said, inclining his head. “She has some of her spark back today.”

“Hmm,” Veronica said.

Henry smiled. “Been a victim of that spark?”

“Yep. She can be . . .”