Your Perfect Year(96)
“I’m not!” Hannah snapped, and tore the box from Lisa’s hands. As her nostrils caught the scent of old pepperoni, even she had to suppress a shudder. She slid the pizza box back onto the floor to join the empty wine bottle.
“So?” Lisa wheedled. “Please will you get up and take a shower? You don’t smell much better than that moldy pizza. I’ll wait here until you’re ready, then we’re going out.”
“But I really don’t want to.”
“I don’t care.”
“You can’t force me.”
“Watch me,” Lisa replied. “I can.”
“How?”
“Easy. I simply stay here and wait until you come with me.”
“Good luck with that!” Hannah leaned forward and made to grasp her duvet. Lisa was faster. She tore it from her friend’s hands and threw that on the floor too.
“And I’ll sing!” She cleared her throat and began. “Happy birthday to you . . .”
“Lisa, please!” Hannah howled.
Unperturbed, her friend warbled on. “Happy birthday to yooou!”
“Stop!” Hannah snapped, putting her fingers in her ears.
“Happy biiiiirthday, dear Hannah . . .”
“Lisa, please! Don’t torment me anymore!”
She fell silent, a guilty look on her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s okay.” Hannah realized to her own amazement that she was suppressing a laugh. But she wasn’t to be beaten so easily. “You know,” she said, “it’s not that I want to mope around like a recluse. I’m still grieving.”
“I understand. But if you want my opinion, two months’ grief, 24/7, is more than enough.”
“Aren’t people supposed to be in mourning for a year?”
“True,” Lisa agreed. “But only a very few manage twelve whole months.”
“Anyone who wants to can.”
“Wrong! It’s not only about you, you know.”
“Oh, really?”
“No. It’s high time you started thinking about other people. Your parents, for example. They’re worried to death about you. And so am I.”
“You’ve seen me; you know I’m okay,” Hannah said in a last plaintive attempt to get her friend to go.
“Okay?” Lisa laughed. “Did you just say ‘okay’?” She gestured expansively around the room. “You huddle here in your run-down den that smells like a big cats’ cage, looking like you’ve just emerged from six months’ solitary confinement.” She shook her head, almost amused. “I’m sorry, but that is completely not okay.”
“I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
“I’d say in a vegetative state, actually. And as sorry as I am—”
“You’re starting to repeat yourself.”
“What?”
“You’ve said you’re sorry at least five times.”
Lisa grinned. “Well, well. There’s still a tiny bit of Hannah lurking inside this stinky creature! Quite hard to find beneath the thick crust of filth, but I know she’s somewhere in there.”
“Ha ha.”
“Yeah.” She stood. “So get your hungover self out of this pit.” She wagged her index finger. “Otherwise I’ll have to start singing again.”
“But what about the year’s mourning?”
“Put something black on, by all means.” Lisa nipped her objection in the bud.
“Okay.” Hannah sighed. “I can see I haven’t a hope in hell.”
“Absolutely right,” her friend agreed.
“Where are you dragging me off to?” she asked as she made a move to launch herself from the mattress.
“You should know.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“You had something planned for today, didn’t you?” Lisa reminded her. “We’re going to the Lütt Café for coffee and cake.”
Hannah stopped midmovement. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I . . . because I . . .” Tears filled her eyes again. “Because I’d planned that for me and Simon. It’s our favorite café. And because—”
“Yes, because,” Lisa said. “It’s time to overcome your demons. That’s why it’s totally right for the two of us to go to the café.”
“You think so?” Hannah sounded like a whiny little girl to her own ears.
“I do.”
“But we could go somewhere else.”
“We could,” Lisa said, “but we’re not going to.”
51
Jonathan
Friday, March 16, 2:51 p.m.
“I gave you a bit of a shock, didn’t I?” Grinning from ear to ear, Leopold was clearly enjoying the effect of his surprise visit. “You can close your mouth now. You’re beginning to look a bit stupid.”
“What . . . what are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to settle my debts.”
“Debts? What debts?”