“Would you like to come in?” I ask him.
“Can’t,” he says. “Busy morning. But I just wanted to check in on the two of you while I was in the neighborhood. Everything going okay?”
“We are good,” Enzo says. “Thank you for everything.”
“And the kids?” Ramirez asks. “They are handling everything okay?”
“Yes,” I reply, but with hesitation.
“Millie is worried about Ada,” Enzo speaks up.
He’s right. I hate to admit it, but I have become obsessed with what my daughter did. I recognize that Jonathan Lowell was a horrible person, and he deserved to die, but I just keep seeing him lying on the floor with his throat gaping open.
My daughter did that.
“Ada will be fine,” Ramirez assures me. “Look, she did what she had to do, Millie. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“It was my fault,” Enzo says. “I gave her the knife. My dad gave it to me at the same age, and I thought this is no problem. I just want her to be safe. But we live in a different world now.”
I can’t blame Enzo though. The knife is what saved her life. If she hadn’t been carrying that pocketknife, God knows what would have happened to her.
I am just troubled by what she did with it. We’ve still never spoken about how she slit Jonathan’s throat.
“Anyway,” Enzo says, “if you are too busy to come in for coffee now, come by for dinner tonight, yes?”
“Actually…” Ramirez tugs on his tie. “I got a date tonight.”
For a moment, I am pulled from my worries about Ada, and a smile spreads across my lips. “A date?Really?”
Ramirez returns a smile that is an endearing combination of excited and nervous. “Believe it or not, Cecelia set me up with her mother. This is only our second date, but we’ve been talking a lot on the phone, and… I know it’s early, but I like that woman a lot. She’s really something.”
I almost burst out laughing at what is most certainly the understatement of the century. “She really is,” I agree.
“Maybe you retire now,” Enzo teases him.
“Never,” Ramirez says.
But if anybody could convince that man to finally retire, it would be Nina Winchester.
“Anyway,” he says, “I gotta head out. But anything you need, give me a yell.”
Ramirez gets back in his car, and we watch him drive away. I’ve got to get to work as well, but lately, it’s been hard to focus. I’m happy that my husband has been released from jail, but I feel consumed by my worries about my children. Especially Ada.
“Millie,” Enzo says. “You need to let go of your worries.” He adds, “Is bad for your blood pressure.”
“My blood pressure is fine now, thank you very much.”
It actually is. I’ve been checking it every day, and for the last week, the numbers have been perfect.
“So we keep it that way.” He kisses me on the cheek. “Ada will be fine. Her mama was fine, and she will be fine.”
He’s right. I just have to keep telling myself that. Ada did not do anything wrong. She is a hero, as far as I’m concerned.
But I am her mother. It is my job to worry. So I will keep watching her and worrying.
EIGHTY
