On Second Thought(116)

“Breton!” yelled the other. “Your woman is here!”

Oh, shit. I was not his woman. I hoped to God he hadn’t told them I was.

The door opened and Daniel came out, a big smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, coming over. He bent down for a kiss, and I turned my face so it landed on my cheek.

“Hi,” I said.

The smile slid off his face. But he turned to the other two. “Bruce, Jay, this is Kate, an old friend of mine.”

“Nice to meetcha,” they said in unison.

“Same here. Thanks for being so badass and brave and everything.”

“You got it, pretty lady,” said the winker.

“We live to serve,” the other one said.

“Come on,” Daniel said. “There are benches over here.”

Given the heat of the day, no one was out. The firehouse was near a school, and there were tennis courts and tracks behind chain-link fences. A row of benches sat in the shade.

“What brings you to Brooklyn?” he asked. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

“Goofy, isn’t it?” I wiped my palms on my dress. I had no reason to feel bad about this, I told myself. We were friends. There had been benefits. Those benefits were now suspended. That was all. “We need to talk.”

He folded his arms. “Funny, that’s usually my line.”

“I’m so sorry about this morning. That was Nathan’s sister who came in.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He sighed. “So you made a terrible mistake and it should never happen again.”

“It’s like you’re psychic.”

He didn’t smile.

“Daniel, you’ve been a really good friend these past few months. I...I appreciate last night more than I can say. But I can’t do anything more. Or again. You know what I mean? I’m a new widow. I... If you thought—”

“No, I didn’t think anything,” he said, his voice hard. “You know me. Just out for a good time.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“I should get back to work.”

“Right.”

He stood up, offered his hand and then let mine go the second I was upright. “You didn’t have to drive all the way here just to tell me I was a one-night stand,” he said.

“We’re friends. I just... I didn’t want... I did need to. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t. I’ll see you around, okay?” With that, he went back into the firehouse.

Feeling like shit, I decided to visit the Re-Enter Center. I got back into my stifling car and drove there. The door was unlocked, and my footsteps echoed down the hall. Greta, the director, was in.

“Kate!” she exclaimed. “So good to see you!” She stood up from her desk and gave me a hug. “Hot out there, isn’t it? How are things?”

“Things are okay,” I lied. “Better.” No one really wanted to hear the truth. It was a much-discussed topic in the grief group.

We chatted about easy things, some of the students, where they were, if they’d gotten any jobs.

“We’re having a show in a few weeks. Ex-con art is all the rage, apparently. Did Paige tell you about it?” Greta asked.

“No. We’re not as close as we used to be.”

She nodded. “Well, you should come! There’ll be paintings, sculptures, some furniture and, of course, photos. In fact, why don’t you judge that category? Say yes! I won’t lie, I want you back here, and I know it’s a bit farther for you now, but please do this for us! Who better than our Kate?”

“Sure, I’ll do it,” I said. “You bet. But I better head back home. It was great seeing you.”

Rather than get back in my car, I walked through my old neighborhood, avoiding my street, which held too many memories. I didn’t see anyone I knew, not even Ronny, the homeless guy I used to buy breakfast for.

The feeling of disappearing slammed into me. Maybe I really was becoming invisible. What if I had a heart attack? Who would save me? Would anyone even notice? Would someone call 911?

In for three, hold for three, out for three, hold for three. I wouldn’t faint. I wouldn’t die (not yet, anyway). But my heart felt like a hard, dead thing inside my chest, heavy and useless.

I could really use some help here, Nathan, I thought. But from my dead husband, there was nothing.





Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ainsley

The summer plodded through the dog days of August, when half of Cambry-on-Hudson left for Martha’s Vineyard or the coast of Maine. Despite the muggy weather, I rode my bike to work every day, through the park and cemetery. For some reason, I managed to show up on time every day, something I hadn’t managed with a car.

Jonathan and I were a couple. A real couple, and it was at turns wonderful and maddening. Sometimes I wanted to kick him, sometimes I wanted to crawl over him and lick every inch of his skin. At work, he was more anal-retentive than before, if such a thing was possible. But I tried to give him fewer reasons to get irritated with me. I did my work, stopped the online shopping...except for when Zappos had a huge one-day sale, and please, every woman in America was online that day, the website crashed (but not before I’d ordered three adorable pairs of shoes).