On Second Thought
Page 32

And yet, yesterday afternoon, we’d played Trivial Pursuit, the first time we’d played a board game since Candy Land. Sean called, and I talked to him a little bit—a rarity, as he never deliberately called me, though Kiara did once in a while. Sean was under the impression I was staying here out of the goodness of my heart, rather than because I was currently homeless.
It would be good to go to work. Get my mind off things and on to such burning issues as the latest trends in local goat cheese. I poured myself some of Kate’s great coffee—an Ethiopian blend Eric would covet if he knew Nathan had once loved it.
Kate wandered into the kitchen, her hair a little matted. “How’d you sleep?” she asked.
“Like the dead,” I answered. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Like a rock. Very well. I slept well.” I closed my eyes for a second. “How about you?”
“Not bad,” she lied. The shadows under her eyes told the true story.
“I have to get to work. Jonathan’s really anal about us showing up on time.”
“Okay. Have a good day,” she said.
“Can I do anything for you while I’m out?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” She rubbed her eyes. “I have to go to the studio and return some phone calls and stuff.”
“Good, good,” I said. “Tell Max I said hi.” Once upon a time, I had a huge crush on Max and his whisper-scary voice.
“Will do. And, Ainsley...you know, stay here as long as you want. Even if Eric comes crawling back—as he should—you’re welcome to have a little breathing room here. But I don’t need you to stay, either. I mean, just do what you want. You’re welcome here.” Grief and exhaustion had softened her a little; she was usually a lot more brisk where I was concerned.
“Thanks, Kate. And hey,” I added, “remember that, uh, that grief group I found? It meets tonight. Maybe, if you don’t want to go alone, I could go with you the first time. Or something. If you want.”
She nodded. “Yeah, that might be...good.” Her mind was already wandering. I wanted to hug her, but I always felt a bit like an ass, hugging my ultracool sister (half sister, I could hear Candy saying).
I went out to my car, breathing in the sweet springtime smells from the gorgeous flowers and trees of the landscaping. The exterior of the house was just as sleek and fabulous as the inside. A sweep of grape hyacinth grew along the steps and four flowering pear trees marked the curve of the driveway.
I wasn’t sure I was doing Kate any good by being there.
Then again, I wasn’t sure where else to go. Candy and Dad’s—no. Candy would let me stay, of course, but I couldn’t bear to be another nail in her crucifixion. Plus, I didn’t want her and Dad to think badly of Eric, because once we got back together, it would be awkward.
Same with a friend’s place. So it was Kate’s, or Gram-Gram’s. Despite not being my biological grandmother, Gram-Gram adored me. And speaking of the sweet old lady, I hit her name on my phone. “Hi, Gram-Gram!”
“Is this Ainsley? Hello? The name says Ainsley on the phone. Is that you, honey?”
“It is! Hi, Gram-Gram!”
“How are you, sweetheart? Are you married yet?”
“Nope, not married. Just calling to say hi.”
“Oh, dear. Was it your husband who died?”
“That was Kate, I’m afraid. Remember? Nathan was her husband.”
She sighed. “That’s so sad. Do you think she wants to be fixed up? I know a nice young man.”
“It might be a little soon.”
“How about you? Would you like to meet someone?”
“No, not right now. I’m on my way to work, Gram-Gram. I just wanted to say hi, and I love you.”
“Aren’t you sweet! Thank you, darling! You made an old woman’s day! Oh, I wanted to tell you something! Last night, I heard a noise! And you know I live here by myself, of course.”
Not exactly. She’d recently moved to a swanky senior housing development, the same one where I brought Ollie once a week. She had her own apartment, but it was in a giant building with about three hundred other residents.
“Anyway, I went outside, and I took a butcher knife with me! Just in case!”
“Oh, Gram-Gram. That’s not a good idea.”
“Well, guess what it was?”
I glanced at my watch. It was 8:28, and Jonathan hated when we were late. “What was it?” I pulled into the lot behind the Hudson Lifestyle offices. Of course, there were no free spaces, so I had to back out on the street and try to parallel park.
“It was a skunk! Can you believe it? A little black-and-white skunk! Oh, it was adorable! I left it some cat food.”
I turned off the engine and grabbed my purse and phone. “You probably shouldn’t feed it, Gram-Gram.”
“Well, I did. I’m an independent woman. I can do what I want.”
I laughed. “I guess that’s true. I have to go now. Love you!”
“I love you, too, honey. Come visit me! We can go to Walgreens together.”
It was her favorite place. “That sounds like fun.” I did love the As Seen On TV aisle.
“Or a wake. Someone’s bound to die soon. All these old people. An ambulance comes here every day! And you never know. Wakes are great places to meet someone.”
I snorted. “Bye, Gram-Gram.” Granted, I didn’t really want to go to a wake with my grandmother, but her friends were dropping like flies, and she liked to show me off at wakes and funerals. She always called me her granddaughter. Never once used the word step.
I ran up the stairs to the office. Everyone looked up and went quiet. Lateness was on par with beheading puppies as far as our boss was concerned. His door, at least, was closed. “Hi, everyone,” I said in a low voice, hoping to slip into my cubicle like Bob Cratchit avoiding Scrooge.
His door opened. “You’re late,” he said. “Please come in for a moment.”
“Hi, Jonathan.” I stood up, my face flaring with heat. Was he going to bring up Friday night? Or the fact that Eric announced that I complained about my job? More likely, he was going to deliver another lecture about punctuality and godliness. He did have that Calvinist preacher vibe.
Jonathan closed the door behind me and sat down, regarding me with his unblinking, pale blue eyes. His office was not a place where happy conversations occurred. Not with me, anyway.
“I’m sorry I’m a tiny bit late. I was talking to my grandmother, and she has dementia, a little anyway, and it was hard to get her off the phone. But she’s very sweet. A widow for a long time. How was your weekend?”
“Please sit down,” he said. His voice was very deep, almost a growl, like the dragon Smaug from The Hobbit movies. Rachelle was convinced it was the one sexy thing about him, but everything he said to me always sounded very...disdainful.
“Have you seen The Cancer Chronicles this morning?” he asked.
“Uh, no.” The CCs were supposed to be done, though Eric had run a maudlin piece about Nathan just after he died. “Jonathan, speaking of Eric, I’d like to keep our, um, little scene from the other night to ourselves, okay? We’re...well, we’re getting back together.”
“Are you?” An eyebrow lifted.
“Yes. Probably. I mean, definitely. It’s just a blip.”
He sighed, then turned his monitor around so I could see.