Neighborly(69)

His eyes narrow just slightly. “I didn’t really expect you to be the one to volunteer, honestly.”

“I didn’t expect to, either. But when someone’s in need, you go to them.”

I can tell he thinks there’s more to the story, and boy, is he right. But I’m not about to divulge it, especially since my plan is working. Katrina needs a confidante, and right now, it’s clearly not her husband. As much as she might want to push me away, she doesn’t have the strength right now.

“I’d like to do something, though,” he says. “I can start organizing meals. Oh, and I can put together a visiting schedule, since she probably can’t have a ton of people converging all at once.”

“There can only be two people at the bedside at a time. Katrina really only wants me there right now.”

“Really? Just you?” At my nod, he adds, “Doesn’t she prefer to be called Kat?”

Everyone loves Brandon, thinks he’s so kind and good-hearted, and I used to think that, too. But after what went on with my husband . . . We all knew the rules. They were right there on the spreadsheet in black and white.

I ignore his question. “Her in-laws are there, too. Doug’s parents. I don’t think she has family of her own.” In fact, I know she doesn’t.

“I’ll work on the meals, then,” Brandon says, with just the slightest touch of obstinacy.

“She doesn’t want anything from anyone.”

“Does Doug want anything?” So he’s setting his sights on Doug now?

I shrug. Take it up with them. Oh wait, I just told you that you can’t. I want to smile at the handcuffs I’ve placed on Brandon, kind of like the ones he once placed on my husband.

“So they really want nothing from us?” He looks distressed. “This is what community is for! This is why you move to the AV. We band together for support. Everyone’s stronger with the Village behind them. What are they thinking?”

“She’s thinking about Sadie. She’s going to what she knows.”

“Which is?”

“Handling things on her own.”

He shakes his head. “So sad. But I guess people do return to what they know in times of crisis.” His tone isn’t barbed, but I feel a chill anyway. I’ve always wondered what my husband told him. What you discover is that the scariest part of openness isn’t the sex; it’s the pillow talk. You can never be entirely sure what other people know. What slips out after they’ve slipped it in.

“I should go,” I say, moving to shut the door.

“Let me know if anything changes.”

“You’ll be the first.” Really, he’s the only one who needs to know. He’s better than a megaphone. Our entire block will be feeling the sting of Katrina’s rejection within the hour.



“Sorry,” I say. I’m in my gown and mask, having vigorously scrubbed up to my elbows, but I don’t recognize the two senior citizens in the cordoned-off area behind the yellow-and-black tape. I start to withdraw, but then I see that Sadie’s inhabiting the raised dais.

Oh, Sadie. The air in here smells residually noxious, like she had another recent bout of diarrhea. She appears as lifeless as she did yesterday, and her skin still has the tinge of urine. It hurts to look at her.

“Are you here for Doug and Katrina?” the man says. There’s something military about him, though he’s dressed casually in khakis and a polo shirt.

“Yes. I’m a friend. Well, a new neighbor.”

“Oh, that’s so lovely!” the woman exclaims. I dislike her immediately. There’s just something false about her. Like mother, like son.

“I’m Scott, and this is Melody,” the man says.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise!” Melody beams. “Doug and Katrina are in the cafeteria. They’ll be back soon. The waiting room is right down the hall.”

“OK. Thanks.” It’s interesting that Scott and Melody are calling Katrina by her full name. I guess they’re not Kat people, either.

“Who should I say stopped by?” Melody pesters.

“I’ll go find them. Thanks.”

The cafeteria is spacious and purple, like Barney exploded. There’s plenty of noise and bustle, but Katrina is sitting alone, picking at a croissant, her eyes glazed. Seeing her there brings me back to a place I never go, when I was in elementary school and she was the new girl who nobody really wanted to talk to or sit with. I took her under my wing and looked after her. We were so close.

But she betrayed me. It took me so many years to recover, and the AV was a big part of that. So I can’t have those kinds of memories or any twinges of conscience. I have to remember she brought this on herself.

I take the seat across from her. “Hey,” I say. I’m a little nervous, since I’ve removed my mask and the lighting is nearly fluorescent. Much starker than daylight, and a hell of a lot brighter than Hound. We’re looking at each other more intensely than we ever have before. I don’t want her to notice the slant of my eyes or the curve of my jawline. “I met Scott and Melody. They told me where to find you.”

Fortunately, she just keeps playing with the croissant. “Hi.”

“How are you?”