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The Lives We Touch
Anna swallows. Hard.
Even as part of her appreciates the honesty, another part almost wishes that he had lied. That he had let her keep the illusion, however tenuous it might have been, that Kate was somewhere in Indiana, doing just fine.
Please tell me she quit, Anna begs silently, even as she knows with terrible certainty that that isn't what happened. Tell me she's in a hospital somewhere, recovering from an injury.
And yet that cursed – well, whatever it is – prompts her to keep pressing. Curiosity isn't the right word for it, this need to know the truth. The whole truth. "Is she…?" Anna can't quite bring herself to actually say the word. As if putting a name to it will make it real.
Agent Gibbs nods.
"How?" The question isn't far above a whisper, and even as she asks it, Anna wonders if she really wants to know.
"She was shot and killed by a sniper. A terrorist." He pauses for another long moment, before adding, "Last week."
"Oh." It's all she can think of to say. She gives a jerky, disjointed nod. "I, uh, OK. Um…" When had she started trembling? Why does that sound like someone else's voice in her ears, stammering incoherently?
And then it becomes more than she can handle. The room slides out of focus, and all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears. She feels a surge of nausea, and has to swallow against the feeling that she's in serious danger of vomiting all over this man's shiny black shoes. "Um, is there a restroom…?" she hears herself ask.
He just points, and Anna thinks she sees a frown on his face before she makes a break for it.
When she has emptied what feels like the entire contents of her stomach, and then some, Anna emerges from the stall and begins to splash water on her face. Over and over she brings her cupped hands to her face, forcing herself to focus on nothing but the rhythm of the motion. She keeps it up until her skin starts to feel numb from the cool water, and she can hardly remember why she is doing it.
She dries her face with a paper towel, and forces herself to take deep, calming breaths, until she is able to rinse out her mouth without choking. Why is she so affected by this? Sure, it's sad – tragic, even – that Kate was killed, but it's not like Anna really knew her. Other people, those who had been close to Kate, surely have more of a reason to grieve than she does.
And yet…some part of Anna knows that reason has very little to do with it. That grief is grief, whether it's for a young West Point graduate from Montana, or a dark-haired woman who always smiled at the barista at her favorite coffee shop.
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When Anna has finally managed to get herself under control, she pops a breath mint into her mouth – one of those ridiculously strong after-coffee mints that make her eyes water – and comes out of the restroom, only to nearly collide with Agent Gibbs.
He's giving her that same look again: somewhere between considering and concerned. "You OK?" he asks quietly, in the kind of voice you'd use with a frightened animal. Anna just nods. In the same voice, he asks her, "You knew Kate?"
"Sort of. Well, not really, I guess. I mean…" Anna trails off. "I know what she liked in her coffee. Milk and sweetener," she adds, because for some reason, it seems important that he knows that.
"Ah." His expression doesn't seem particularly judgmental, or anything, but still Anna is sure he has to be wondering who on earth this crazy girl is, and why she's freaking out about a customer at a coffee shop.
After a long moment, she tells him, "My sister's name was Katie." As if that explains everything. Which, in a way, it does, but not like that, taken completely out of context.
To understand –to really get it – he'd have to know the whole tangled mess of a story. How Anna had done everything in her big sister's shadow, until suddenly she had been suddenly cut adrift, with no one left to follow. How Kate – the kind, driven NCIS agent who had shared her sister's name – had come into the shop one morning and reopened wounds that Anna had thought were finally healed. How her life had touched Anna's only briefly, before it had been cut short.
Somehow, though, he seems to understand. Or at least, to not think that she's in need of immediate psychiatric care. He nods slowly. "I'm sorry."
"Me, too. It's just – it's not fair, you know? She was so young…" Anna isn't really sure, anymore, which Kate she's talking about. Both of them, really. Two women, different in looks and situation, but with so much in common. So much potential, so many wasted opportunities. Two families, two sets of friends, left to pick up the pieces.
Agent Gibbs is nodding again. "I know," he says, and Anna gets the feeling that he really does. He seems to hesitate for a moment, then touches her arm gently. "Do you need a ride somewhere?" Anna wonders if she still looks that shaken up, that he thinks she shouldn't be behind the wheel.
"Thanks, but I'm OK. I walked. From work, I mean. But I can take the bus home. I always do. I – " Abruptly, she realizes that she's babbling. And somehow, he doesn't seem like the type to put up with that well. "Sorry," she says. "I swear I'm not usually this…" she doesn't even know what the word is.
The corner of his mouth twists in what might be called a half-smile. "Don't apologize," he tells her wryly. Something about the way he says that makes Anna suspect he does it a lot. He looks her over again. "You sure you're OK?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." When he raises an eyebrow at her, she lets out a soft laugh. "Well, no, I'm not. But I will be."
"Let me walk you out."
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After making Agent Gibbs promise that he'll get the bracelet to Kate's family – as if that could possibly make any difference to them – Anna finds herself wandering aimlessly down the street.
It's a weekend, so she doesn't have class, and there's nowhere in particular she needs to be. But the thought of catching the bus, and sitting and brooding in an empty apartment all day is decidedly less than appealing. So Anna makes her way back toward the coffee shop, looking at her surroundings but not really taking anything in as she bumps shoulders with strangers.
Before Anna really realizes where she's going, she finds herself hovering on the front steps of St. Matthew's Church. In the end, it's the sound of organ music, muffled through the thick wooden doors, that convinces her to go in. Something about the sound is so soothing. And, well, Anna could do with soothing right about now.
The inside of the church is dim compared to the bright sunshine outside, and it takes her eyes a moment to adjust. When they do, she realizes that Mass is already half over. Suddenly, this is starting to seem just as stupid as her earlier impulsiveness. It's been a long time since she's gone to church, and she has the uncomfortable sensation that she's intruding. Feeling awkward and out of place, she is just about to leave, when the priest catches her eye. He smiles at her, and raises his hand in a subtle, welcoming gesture.
So Anna eases the heavy door shut, and makes her way to a pew in the very back, dropping to her knees on the plush kneeler. At the pulpit, a lector is beginning to read. His words don't register as Anna's thoughts focus on the dark-haired woman whose death has led her there. Self-consciously, she realizes that she's still wearing her burgundy polo and khakis from the coffee shop. But then she gives a mental shrug. She doesn't think Kate would mind.
"For those who have died," the man at the pulpit reads, "and for those who mourn them, that they may know the peace of God's heavenly kingdom. We pray to the Lord."
And as Anna whispers, "Lord, hear our prayer," the tears at last begin to fall. She hadn't cried, not at first, but now her face crumples and her body shakes as twenty minutes of sharp, aching sadness mingle with seven years' worth of dulled pain.
Bringing her clasped hands to her mouth, she bites on the edge of her knuckle in an effort to muffle her sobs. She doesn't bother to wipe away the tears that are tracing a path across her cheeks and down her neck as she prays for Kate, and Katie, and all the other women like them, whose deaths had left an empty space in the lives of so many people.
To be concluded…