Erica Clarke looked at the wedding picture and smiled. She turned it over. On the back, it just said: Thank you. Talk to you soon.
Sometimes a miracle, she thought. And went off to fight for another miracle.
__________
Also on Friday morning: Andrew McShane walked into his offices in the administration building, already tired. Bone-weary, they said down south. He was bone-weary. Killing a man wasn’t something to be taken lightly, even if the man was going to kill someone else. Even if he’d known it was going to come to that for days.
In spite of what he’d told Ryan Matthews, he didn’t routinely carry a gun. He did have a concealed-carry permit, because he had gotten death threats on occasion. And sometimes they were from people who just might be crazy enough to follow through on it. Who knew that being a Provost could be dangerous? No one told you that in graduate school. But it had only been with Ian Black’s return to campus that he’d started carrying a gun with him all the time. Because Ian Black was a crazy motherfucker.
The DA had decided there would be no charges. The case was closed. He tried to put it behind him. But it bothered him. He hadn’t seen any other way of it ending. Black was obsessed, angry, and losing control with each passing day.
Although he had to laugh. He wondered who had been sitting on top of the building that Matthews had waved off. Apparently, he hadn’t been the only one who had seen Black’s death as the likely ending.
His secretary brought in his mail. He groaned. There was never any good news in the mail.
“There’s a postcard you’ll want to see,” she said, ignoring his grumbles. She knew him well. “I put it on top.”
He picked it up and smiled. Well. Sometimes the mail did bring unexpected good news. He didn’t feel so weary.
A beautiful family, he thought, a bit wistful. He didn’t know why except maybe because Ryan was so much like himself. He had daughters. Grandchildren. A granddaughter that was as wild as her mother, and for that matter, her grandmother.
But Ryan? Ryan reminded him of himself.
He turned it over. A simple announcement of the wedding.
And in tiny print in one corner, it said: “Give my love to Ruby.”
McShane set the card down and laughed. “I’ll do that,” he said. “I’ll just do that.”
Epilogue
2 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 15, Eyewitness News newsroom — Cage wheeled Sarah’s chair into the elevator and pressed the button to the second floor.
“Do you know what she wants to talk about?” Sarah asked him.
He shook his head. Emily had asked to meet them in the newsroom, but she hadn’t said why. Things had been tense, but they hadn’t had the time or the energy to deal with personal things. Not having Ryan around had increased the burden on them all. They were just plain short-handed.
He pushed her through the gate. The lights were off except in the living area. Emily was there, waiting for them. She had sandwiches laid out. Warily Cage sat down on the couch and took a sandwich. Sarah took one too, but she didn’t take a bite. She just watched Emily.
“This the lunch we talked about, girlfriend?” Sarah said softly.
Cage swallowed. He set the sandwich aside. It didn’t taste as good now.
Emily was poised. She wasn’t eating, her body was quiet. Not for the first time, he thought she’d been a dancer. Now she looked as if she was about to take flight.
“You asked me when I knew what I wanted, I should let you know,” she said almost defiantly.
Cage sat back. He wasn’t going to like this. He’d been attracted to this woman since he’d first met her four years ago. He still was. She was his best friend. There had been the three of them: her and Ryan and him. Surprised, he realized he would put Sarah on that list now.
He didn’t know what he would do when Emily kicked his butt to the curb. How could he continue to work here with her if she did? But how could he leave?
“And do you know what you want?” Sarah asked. She sounded as if it was just a matter of curiosity for her, not wrenching like it was for him. Or maybe she already knew what the answer was.
“I want you,” she said to Sarah.
Cage got up to leave. “This is cruel, Em,” he said. “I didn’t think you were mad enough at me to be cruel.”
“I’m not done, Cage,” she said. She stood up and linked her arm through his. “And I want you.”
He looked down at her confused. She was tall, but he was well over six-foot. “What does that mean?”
“I love you both. I want you both,” Em said, and now her voice shook. This was harder for her than she had let on. “And I don’t want to have to choose between you.”
Cage thought he might be having his first migraine. Had he caught them from Ryan? Did they come with the office?
“You want a 3-some?” he asked, incredulously. This was a surreal conversation.
“I want it all,” Emily said. “I want us to live together. Sleep together. And yes, have sex together. And I think the two of you want that, too. There’s a reason why you don’t want to go back to your room in the residence hall, Sarah. And Cage, don’t think I haven’t seen the way you take care of her.”
“Emily,” Sarah said. “Are you sure, girl? Because people could get hurt here, if you’re not sure.”
Emily was still holding onto Cage, as if she was afraid he’d leave if she would let go. She might be right, he thought.
He looked at Sarah. There had been moments between them. Moments they had refused to confront, to even acknowledge. Because she was
