“Let me get you a cab,” he said.
“No,” I stopped him. “Thank you, again. You’ve been beyond kind.”
I noticed his hands flex through the fabric of his pants, inadvertently tugging them slightly lower. “I want to say that I had a nice time, but that doesn’t seem quite right,” he admitted.
I couldn’t stop a faint smile from touching my lips, and I nodded knowingly. “It was an emotional night. But circumstances considered, it ended up all right.”
He leaned against the building pillar and nodded. “I’ll call you,” he said, squinting into the distance. I was about to protest until I remembered that we owed Cooper a statement. My heart skipped at the promise.
“K, so, bye.” I turned, leaving him standing there. I’d meant to get a cab, and I was cold, but it felt nice to stretch my aching legs. As I maneuvered through the streets, I had a morbid curiosity to pass through the scene of the attack, even though it meant going out of my way to get there.
I stood on Adams peering down the empty alley. It was grey, as the buildings shielded it from the sun, but I could see all the way down. An eerie calm settled over me, and I passed through it, the click of my heels bouncing off the walls in a hollow echo.
I stood, staring at the place where I’d been pressed up against the wall, the place where the gun had clattered. I pulled my phone from my purse when it vibrated, knowing it was David. I found his text along with missed calls from Gretchen and Bill.
May 18, 2012 8:09 AM
Are you there yet?
In my enchantment with the alley, I’d lost track of time.
May 18, 2012 8:10 AM
Almost
When I came through the other side, I felt relieved. The scene wasn’t so bad in the daylight. I hurried to the office, hoping to slip in unseen.
~
On my way to the fourteenth floor, I found myself in a surprisingly good mood. Maybe I can do this, I thought to myself. Maybe David will reconsider, and we can be friends, and I can be happy with Bill. I remembered David’s words the day before. I hoped equally that he meant them and that he didn’t. I was glad for Bill’s absence so I could openly wallow and finally put my feelings to rest. After our night, I felt bonded to David in an even stronger way, and I didn’t want to lose him as a friend.
Jenny noticed my disposition and looked relieved – I wondered if she’d been mulling over how I’d snapped at her the day before. “TGIF!” she said as I passed, and then, “Liv! What happened to your face?”
“Oh,” I stumbled for an explanation. “I can’t really discuss it. It has to do with one of Bill’s cases.”
Her eyes grew, and I knew I’d have a hard time getting out of this one. “What do you mean?” she squealed.
“Shh,” I hushed her, not wanting to draw attention. “Don’t worry. I feel fine. I really can’t discuss it. I’ll be in my office,” I called, scampering off. Shit, I thought. That was a terrible performance.
In the office, I flopped into my computer chair and pulled up my e-mail. Absentmindedly, I glanced at the doorway and was reminded of David storming out the day before. The past twelve hours had been a whirlwind, and to stop myself from analyzing it all, I quickly opened the top e-mail.
From: David Dylan
Sent: Fri, May 18, 2012 08:35 AM CST
To: Olivia Germaine
Subject: My banana
Did it make it to your office safely, or do I need to come check on it?
DAVID DYLAN
SENIOR ARCHITECT,
PIERSON/GREER
From: Olivia Germaine
Sent: Fri, May 18, 2012 08:44 AM CST
To: David Dylan
Subject: Your banana
I am back safe and sound, however the same cannot be said for your banana :( It’s in a better place now though . . . .
Thanks again,
-O
Olivia Germaine
Associate Editor,
Chicago Metropolitan Magazine
ChicagoMMag.com
I keyed down to the next e-mail and gasped in horror.
CHAPTER 19
From: Mack Donovan
Sent: Fri, May 18, 2012 07:32 AM CST
To: Mack Donovan
BCC: Olivia Germaine
Subject: Davena Brenda Donovan
Family and friends,
As some of you know, my dearest Davena passed away yesterday evening. I’m sorry to deliver the news this way, but it is the best I can do at this time. Davena was a lively girl who never let this dreadful thing get the best of her. We will be holding a service on Monday morning followed by a celebration of her life at our home. Details to follow. In lieu of flowers, please make a donation to the Davena B. Donovan Foundation, which turns one year next month.
Sincerely,
Mack
The room spun as the words filtered into my consciousness. Gone? I scanned the e-mail again, reading but not comprehending. Could it be? All that life, all that light, all that love. Gone? My heart wrenched and wrenched again when I thought of Mack. His idolatry of Davena was endless. He must be shattered, I thought.
I ran to the bathroom and steadied myself against the sink as I looked in the mirror. My chest stuttered when I forced myself to remember our last visit and her final words. One shot at life. Don’t miss anything. Love. She had known.
I waited for the tears. It had never occurred to me that . . . that . . . I crushed the ceramic beneath my hands and fell into a squat. My stomach lurched with the threat of vomit. My eyes burned with unshed tears. My legs threatened to collapse so I could surrender to the filthy bathroom floor. How could this happen? How could someone leave, just like that? How could she let that happen, when we needed her here? How, how, how –
Two raps on the bathroom door jolted me to life. I remained still, calming my jagged breathing. My knuckles were as white as the sink they gripped. I eased into a standing position when the knock came again. My lips tensed into a line as I left the bathroom.
In my office, I drew out my cell phone and dialed Bill. I would tell him, and he would come home, and we would cry. Together we would battle the emptiness I was drowning in. Not just now, for Davena, but the things I’d been holding in for too long. The weight of everything I didn’t tell him was suddenly greater than the pain I avoided by keeping him at a distance. When he didn’t answer, I watched the screen turn black and set the phone on my desk.
I spent the next few hours operating in a daze, doing just enough to appear functioning. The thought of calling Mack petrified me. I went over and over in my head the things I might say. How I could possibly express my regret.
“You look tired.” I glanced up to see Lisa in my doorway, her face predictably drawn. “Late night?”
“You could say that.”
She squinted at me, examining my face. Her expression relaxed when she made out the bruise, but she remained silent.
“What’s up, Lisa?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m going straight to the Gryphon from here, so don’t worry about set up. I’ll make sure everything gets done.” She walked off without waiting for my response, leaving me to look after her. Jenny stopped by next, trying to figure out what happened, but I shooed her away, telling her I had work to do.
The walls of my office were almost too much to take, so I ran away. I managed to find an empty seat in the sun, far enough from the building where I could be alone. Beneath me, the bench was slightly damp but strong and supportive. The smell of dank wood and wet soil filled the air. Warmth on my colorless face gave me comfort.
How had my life d
irected me to this moment? My father would be disappointed to see me now, swollen eye and fighting against the current of infidelity. It was as if my senses left me when I was with David, and they perched just out of reach to watch my demise. And oh, how I never even tried to retrieve them. Even now, in the face of death, I thought of him. I sought somebody strong enough to carry my grief, because I couldn’t do it. I shouldn’t have to. It wasn’t fair.
Sometimes I could hardly keep from crying out because of all the things I held inside. Bill might think I was cold, but it was far from the truth. Fear, pain, beauty, love. I felt it all, but I didn’t always know how to speak it. Davena had asked me to try, but she couldn’t have known how I froze in fear at the prospect. How, everyday, I worried that the things I loved would be ripped from my very hands.
~
When I returned with sun-kissed cheeks, Jenny gave me a concerned look. “Can I get you anything, Liv?”
“No, Jenny, still doing fine.”
“All right. David Dylan wants you to call him. Should - ”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said as I ducked away. “Thanks.”
On the phone, David solemnly relayed that Cooper wanted to see us. I sighed heavily, careful that David wouldn’t hear on his end. I wasn’t sure how to hold myself together.
“I can take you,” he said when I didn’t speak. I nodded into the phone.
I told Jenny I was leaving for the day, and that I would see everyone at the event later. When she began to protest, to tell me they’d be fine without me, I cut her off with a hand in the air.
I found David waiting for me downstairs, leaning against the Porsche with aplomb. He was more casual than I’d ever seen him, in jeans, a t-shirt and aviators. That is, if sweatpants didn’t count. I pushed aside the alluring memory of him in his slumber party outfit.