“I’m ready now. I’m ready to talk about Tia’s death.”
* * * * *
MARA PUT THE finishing touches on her spinach quiche and put it in the oven. She was proud of the way it had turned out, even though it had taken several tries to get there. She made a notation on the pad of paper on the counter, crossing out something and adding the new amount of the ingredients she’d changed. She was working on the recipe that would introduce the savory section of her cookbook and wanted to get it just right.
Matt had been more than happy to test each iteration of the recipe. He wouldn’t admit it but he would have eaten mud pies if it would have made her feel better. He was just happy that she was getting back to normal.
Well, as close to normal as she would ever be.
For the first week after she’d come home, her friends had kept a close eye on her. Despite being heavily pregnant, Ridley had come over each morning and coaxed her out of bed. At first, she had barely been able to manage that without breaking down but Ridley was persistent, in her own sweet way. Mara had broken down one day, sobbing on her friend’s shoulder and Ridley had just put her to bed and stroked her hair. She vaguely remembered mumbling something about what a good mother Ridley was going to be. Her friend had just laughed and told her to sleep.
After that, the girls came over as a group to entertain her on the next Friday night so she wouldn’t have to be alone. They pretended that it was just their usual Girl’s Night Out but Mara knew it was mainly their way of checking up on her. The guys hadn’t crashed their party this time. Mara suspected they’d been threatened by Ridley who could be surprisingly forceful when she wanted to be.
The next week, she’d taken her first trip outside of her house. She hadn’t gone far, just to visit her brother and Penny. It had taken a lot of effort for Matt to stand back and let her work things out on her own, she knew. He was used to being her protector. It was just part of who he was. But this time, Mara didn’t need a protector she just needed the comfort of knowing that he was there. A big hug and a quiet movie night at their place had gone a long way to helping her feel like she was on her way to being okay again.
On her way but not there yet.
Mara sat on her couch and tucked her feet under her. She flipped aimlessly through the channels until she found a home decorating marathon. After watching her second episode, the timer went off and she got up to take her quiche out of the oven.
While it was cooling, she quickly wiped down the counters and rinsed the rag in the sink. She didn’t have much time to taste it before she had to get dressed. It was strange to have an appointment. To have to be somewhere at a certain time. Not that she thought Ethan would be angry if she was late but she didn’t want to keep him waiting. He’d come through for her and now she was ready to return the favor. He needed her to train his new assistant for him and she was more than happy to help out. It would give her something to do besides sit in the house. It would be good to have a purpose again. To be needed.
She sat down a few minutes later with a plate. The quiche was perfectly seasoned and the crust finally had the right consistency. She pressed her fork against the flaky, buttery crust and sighed in appreciation. When she looked at the clock on the wall, she ate her last few bites and then put the plate in the dishwasher.
As she passed back through the living room, she turned the television off. She’d never watched much TV before but over the last few weeks it had been a lifeline. It brought noise into a house that had never seemed so quiet and empty before. Even before Trent had proposed and subsequently moved in, she didn’t remember ever feeling lonely or scared in the house before. But ever since she’d gotten home, she was acutely aware of how solitary she was. Living alone. Eating alone.
Sleeping alone.
Her stomach cramped as she thought of how Trent h
ad always slept right next to her, no matter how big the bed was. She’d wake up right on top of him more often than not, feeling like she was sleeping on a furnace due to all the body heat he’d generated. But despite the fact that she must have been heavy, he’d never complained.
God, she missed him.
Nights alone had been the hardest thing to adapt to. She missed him so much it was a physical ache sometimes. He’d seemed to love it, being her pillow. Keeping her warm. He’d loved it and he’d loved her.
Although that was up for debate because it had been months and there had been no contact. She’d been so upset when she first arrived home but it hadn’t truly occurred to her that she would just never hear from Trent again. For years he’d been as much a part of her life as the air she breathed but he hadn’t called and he hadn’t come back to see her. He hadn’t even made an attempt.
Obviously, he just hadn’t loved her enough.
* * * * *
TRENT CLIMBED THE steps to Matt’s house and hesitated before he rang the doorbell. The last time he’d come to see his old friend he’d gotten away without any broken bones. It was either extremely optimistic or extremely foolish to assume that he could do it twice. So when the door swung open, he braced himself for impact.
But Matt just stood in the doorway, watching him. Finally he moved aside. “Come on in. If I’m going to knock you on your ass, it won’t be in front of the neighbors.”
Trent stepped into the front hallway, grateful for the respite from the summer heat. Being away from the humidity, even just for a few months, had lowered his tolerance to it. He’d changed into casual clothes on the plane, so at least Matt couldn’t make fun of his suit.
“I’m not sure whether to be impressed that you won’t give up or just wonder what the hell is wrong with you. Why are you here?”
“Did you get the journal entries I sent you?”
Matt’s face changed. He glanced down and then back at Trent. “Yeah, I got them.”
Trent understood the discomfort. Part of his therapy had been writing down his feelings about Tia and her death. His feelings about himself and his part in it. It had proven so helpful that he’d continued writing about his college years, his friends and his new life. It hadn’t been easy to write and he imagined it wasn’t the easiest thing to read either. But he’d wanted his friend to understand the things he’d done hadn’t been done lightly.
Taking responsibility for his mistakes meant owning up to not only his actions but also what had led to them. It had been cathartic to get all that stuff on paper. He couldn’t imagine letting anyone else but Matt read his private thoughts. Except for Mara.
“I wanted you to understand.”