My fingers flew over the keyboard, but my mind was occupied with other things. I owed Bill more than I gave him. He’d been patient, and I knew he was becoming concerned. Whenever things turned intimate between us, I pulled away without an explanation. He attributed my distance to Davena’s death, but there was more to it than that.
When my cell buzzed, I glanced at the screen and ignored the call. Within moments, my office phone began to ring. I sighed with defeat, knowing Gretchen wouldn’t give up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when I picked up the receiver.
“Good afternoon to you too, Liv.”
“Seriously, Gretchen. Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” she said with feigned irritation. “I’m downstairs.”
“What? Why?”
“Bill texted me that you were coming in today, so I thought I’d surprise you for lunch.”
“You should have called first. I’m in the middle of something.”
“So take a break and pick it up later.”
“Later I have other things to do.”
“How? You work nonstop, and it’s Saturday for God’s sake. What could be so important? I haven’t talked to you in weeks.”
“My schedule has been full with this promotion. Beman has me under impossible deadlines. They need me.”
“I know they do, but I need you too. We need you. Come on – lunch is on me.”
“Fine,” I said, exhaling forcefully.
There was a brief pause on the line as I saved the document on my computer. “Fine?” she repeated after a moment. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I made a special trip over here to take you to lunch.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“No shit. I miss you,” she said, her voice softening slightly.
“Look, I said I’d come. Just give me a minute.” I hung up before she could respond and locked up the office. Downstairs, I felt mildly better after a deep breath of fresh air. She was waiting in a sleeveless tank top and denim cut-offs. Despite her casual outfit, her bright blonde hair was curled into perfect ringlets as usual. I tucked some hair behind my ear as I approached her.
“Aren’t you hot?” she asked.
I pulled my sweater closer. “I only have an hour.”
She rolled those big blue eyes of hers and pulled on my arm. “Then you’d better get talking.”
“Talking?”
“Yes. It’s time to have a conversation, and that’s why I’m buying you lunch.”
“What’s the topic of this conversation? And don’t say Davena, because that’s all anyone ever wants to talk about.”
“Because you won’t,” she whined. “You won’t talk to Bill about it, you won’t talk to us and you refuse to see a shrink. Forget about poor Mack.” She waved her hand. “He’s beside himself, and you can’t even pick up the phone.”
My heart stopped along with my feet. “Who told you that?”
“Bill.”
“Wow,” I said. She continued walking, so I ran to catch up to her. “No wonder you sound exactly like him. Do you guys get together and talk about me? Have little powwows about how to get me to spill my guts? Well here’s a tip: get a new hobby, because there’s nothing to spill. I loved Davena, but I’ve made my peace with her passing. Life goes on, Gretchen.”
She muttered something under her breath.
“What?” I challenged.
She sighed. “Liv, you can talk to me,” she said in an atypically delicate voice.
I glanced down at the pavement as we walked, willing myself to stay calm. “Everything is fine. You don’t need to worry.”
“I do, though. You never talk about her, and you haven’t seen Mack since the funeral. It’s not healthy and . . . it shows.” I pursed my lips and rewrapped the sweater as I crossed my arms. “Lucy needs you,” she continued. “With the wedding next weekend, she has to know she can count on us.”
“Of course she can,” I said defensively. “I’ve been there every step of the way – did I not host the wedding shower, and have I not done everything she’s asked?”
“Yes, you have, it’s just obvious that your heart isn’t in it. And it hurts her feelings.”
“She said that?”
“She doesn’t have to.”
I swallowed. “Okay, I get it.”
“Good. So let’s start with how you felt when you heard the news. Maybe you can explain why you hid it from us that night. It’s no wonder you got wasted and went home early. Nobody can keep something like that inside, not even you.”
“No – what I meant was that I get it. I’ll change. I’m not up for this random therapy session.”
“You can’t change without talking about it.”
“Again, there is nothing to talk about,” I intoned. “People grieve in different ways, so please just drop it. As far as the wedding, I get what you’re saying. I will try harder. For Lucy.”
Gretchen heaved a deep sigh and looked away as she bit her thumbnail. “You’re a stubborn bitch,” she muttered.
An unwilling smile found my face. “Where are you taking me anyway, Milwaukee?”
“Nope, we’re going to a place with the largest, juiciest burgers around. You need some nourishment,” she said, tugging at the hem of my sweater. I almost gagged at the thought of a hamburger, but I figured this was what choosing one’s battles meant. My heart dropped, however, when we rounded the corner. I was standing in front of the restaurant where David had taken me to lunch months before.
“Hello?” she urged, holding the door open.
I fumbled for an excuse. It was Saturday, though, and David wouldn’t be working nearby, so I followed her inside. I recognized the red-lipped hostess, despite the fact that she wasn’t nearly as cheery as she had been when I was with David. I wondered if she was trying to place me, since she gave me a curious, narrow-eyed look. I scanned the restaurant furtively as she led us to an open, conspicuous table.
I ordered a burger, or rather, Gretchen ordered one for me, but I found it hard to stomach. After making a show of the first two bites, I nibbled on the side salad while Gretchen caught me up on the last two months of work at her public relations office.
“You’ve got to come with me next time,” she was saying. “California in the summertime is the shit. I even took a couple surf lessons.”
“Doesn’t sound like work,” I muttered.
“It’s all about schmoo
zing, Liv, and – ”
I froze. Was that . . . ? No. It came again from behind me, and I stiffened instinctively.
“David, my man!” the voice boomed.
My heart whipped into a violent pounding, filling my ears as blood rushed to my head. Gretchen looked at me with her head cocked. Her mouth moved, but I heard nothing.
With slow precision, I turned my head over my left shoulder and looked back. Two men I’d never seen before were pumping hands emphatically. Through my decelerating heartbeat, I heard one call the other ‘David.’ I shook my head quickly and returned my attention to Gretchen. She was still talking about California, though now she was looking at my plate. To preempt another argument, I forced myself to take another bite. I chewed the patty methodically until it was mush in my mouth and swallowed because I thought she might notice if I spit it out.
“Well, that’s an extra hour on the treadmill,” she groaned to her empty plate and covered her tummy with her hand.
CHAPTER 2
DAVENA’S FUNERAL HAD BEEN like every funeral before it. I’d sat in the pew, staring forward as Bill clasped my hand in his. At some point I had looked over to find him in tears, but my hands were lifeless in my lap, and I didn’t have the words, so I returned my eyes forward. My only moment of reality had been when her husband, Mack, hugged me. He’d squeezed the breath from my lungs, holding me too tightly. And when he’d let go, I felt nothing again.
She was predictably lovely in her open casket, with heavy makeup and untamed, sheared blonde hair. Cancer had not tainted her in life or in death. I wondered how she didn’t even look vulnerable from that position; I wouldn’t have been surprised if her eyes had popped open, and she’d invited me out for a cocktail at Sunda.
But she didn’t. And eventually they eased the coffin closed and took her away. Back at their place, Mack did his best to turn the reception into a celebration of her life, but the pain in his eyes was searing. It was unavoidable, even when I looked away. We left early.