Pushing Up Daisy by Patti Larsen

Pushing Up Daisy by Patti Larsen

Author:Patti Larsen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Patti Larsen Books


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Chapter Fifteen

I find her within moments, at the far end of the east wing’s corridor, sitting on a bench under a tall, stained-glass window, and she’s not alone. Hoppy Lewiston has her arm around the woman’s shoulders, Jeanette not protesting but not really leaning into her either, a few tears on the assistant’s cheeks that she wipes away with impatient hands.

“Jeanette.” My heart is breaking for her and I fish in my bag for the small packet of tissues I always carry. She accepts them without comment, again not using them and I know how futile the offer is but what else can I do for her? I give one to Hoppy as well who dabs at her cheeks while her hostility surfaces.

“If you’re here to question her,” the assistant snaps, “you can wait until her lawyer is present.”

“I’m not,” I say, crouching next to Jeanette. “I came to see if you were okay. Sloan doesn’t mean to be thoughtless.”

“It’s all right,” Jeanette murmurs, shrugging a little. “I’m used to it.”

“It’s not all right.” Hoppy’s huffy now and I wonder at the show she’s putting on. Is she really worried about Jeanette? She didn’t seem to even notice her last night. Maybe, more likely, she’s now out of a job and is looking for a new employer. Oh, dear, I’m becoming rather jaded thinking that way, aren’t I. I used to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Whether the changes in my own attitude are a good or a bad thing, I still have a job to do.

“I loved my sister.” Jeanette blurts that as though it’s in question. “I hate being invisible, though.” Now that I know about her autism diagnosis, I feel like I understand better her reactions and in no way hold them against her. My first job when I was out of high school was caring for a teenaged boy on the Aspergers end of the spectrum who only needed assistance in social situations, so I have deep empathy for her because regardless of what she’s been told, what others think of her, she’s right about just being different. That’s why I hate hearing her whisper the next line out of her mouth. “I know I come across as a weirdo.”

“You do not,” Hoppy says.

“I do.” Jeanette is firm enough the assistant falls silent. “Kailey didn’t care I’m different. She loved me anyway.” I catch the flicker of disagreement on Hoppy’s face as Jeanette goes on in that same dull, empty tone of voice. “She was always nice to me, always. She just said those things to fit in.” I’d taken her word for it just a short time ago, but when Hoppy meets my eyes, it’s clear while Jeanette might believe the story she’s telling, the assistant has had a different experience. I lose further respect for the victim as her older sister stiffens and Hoppy drops her arm away. “This is all his fault.”

I hardly blame Jeanette for saying so. “Sloan loved your sister,” I say.



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