Since She Went Away(69)

Jenna couldn’t argue with Sally’s memory. It made sense. She was a little pissed, had been for almost twenty-five years. “I didn’t know I was so transparent.”

“Hey, I get it. High school’s a bitch. And it’s full of bitches too. No offense to Celia, of course. But those wounds stay with us. And so do first loves.”

“He wasn’t—” She stopped. “Not exactly.” But he was the heaviest of her teenage crushes. Even after he and Celia were married, even after she married Marty, she held Ian up as a kind of ideal, the model against which she measured all other men. She knew she was more likely to do that precisely because they never dated. “But nothing happened. We were friends. We flirted. We skated up to the edge, and then that was it.”

“That’s the worst. What might have been. Heck, if you’d dated back then, you might have found out he was boring or a bad kisser or he farted in bed. And that would have been the end of the romantic dream. Now he’s always out there, a big question mark floating over his head.”

“It’s still here,” Jenna said. “A little bit.”

“What?”

“The question mark.”

Sally raised her eyebrows. “Oh, boy. I think this is beyond my expertise.”

Someone dropped coins into the jukebox, and a Glen Campbell song started playing. “Wichita Lineman.” Sally swayed a little in her seat as the intro came out of the speakers.

“You’re right,” Jenna said. “I need to let it go.”

“You’re not sixteen anymore.”

“I know.”

“And he’s married to your best friend. If you think you’ve seen a media shit storm so far, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Tell me that you hear me on this one.”

“I do. I get it.” Jenna swallowed more beer. “But he’s been opening up to me. We’ve been connecting. He and I, we’re the ones who knew her best. I think he just feels good being able to talk to someone about her in the way we can. Her new friends probably can’t do that.”

“Of course that comforts him. You feel old because Jared is growing up. How old do you think he feels with a missing wife?”

“When I look at him, even though he’s aged some, I see that same guy from high school. I think he sees the same thing with me.”

Sally pushed her bottle and the two empty shot glasses aside. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the tabletop. “Are you listening to yourself?” she asked.

Sally’s tone had shifted. She’d shed the joking edge and sounded like someone on a mission. The sharpness of her words made Jenna sit up a little straighter. “Of course I’m listening to myself. I thought we came here to talk.”

“Then listen closely.” Sally looked around the room, her eyes wandering as though she was looking for someone else.

“Sally, he and I were friends in high school. We’ve both suffered a loss. Maybe a permanent loss. Are you saying we shouldn’t talk to each other?”

Sally turned back. “I get that. I do.” She picked up her empty beer bottle and shook it. There was nothing left. She frowned and pushed it aside again. “And if that’s all it was, if that’s all you wanted . . .”

Another song started playing. Something darker and heavier Jenna didn’t recognize. The fat guy at the bar drummed his hands against his thighs. Something felt tight and raw in her chest. It was the realization of how transparent she’d been to her friend. “I’ve been single a long time. My mom thinks I’ll never get another man to look at me as long as I live.”

“Forget her. My cousin would still like to meet you.”

Jenna had seen the pictures of Sally’s cousin. A harmless enough looking guy, but she hated to think Sally thought he was her match. He was balding, slightly overweight, and wore a goatee that hadn’t been in style in fifteen years. The pictures always depressed Jenna.

Jenna said, “I know what I’m doing, Sally.”

“I hope so.”

Jenna started to protest. She started to say, He’s not interested in me that way, but she couldn’t. He was, a little bit. He probably just needed someone: a friend, an emotional crutch. It wouldn’t be right for anything more to happen, but she kind of enjoyed his attention.

“I need to get home,” Jenna said. “Jared is there.”

“Don’t go away huffy,” Sally said. “I’m looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know. Everybody seems to be doing that these days.”

The two women walked out in the cold night. The sky was purple, the stars scattered. They hugged good-bye at their cars, and Sally held Jenna a moment longer than normal.

“Remember what I said about that shit storm. Watch out for it.”

Jenna wanted to but didn’t say she’d already been living in one for the past three months.





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT


When Jenna came home she found Detective Poole sitting in her living room, talking to Jared. Jared seemed to be in the middle of a long, complicated explanation of something.

“Hi there,” Naomi said. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t interrogating him. He’s explaining Minecraft to me. I have a nephew who plays it all the time, and I wanted to know what it was about.”