The Friendship List(18)

“All right,” Carmen said. “That was a little bit more of a response than I was hoping for.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” Veronica asked, motioning to the group.

To Unity’s surprise and discomfort, several people murmured words of agreement.

Unity folded her arms across her chest as if she could protect herself from the biting assessments. “But Stuart was my husband.”

“Like Veronica said, we’ve all lost someone,” Edward reminded her. “That’s why we’re here.”

“It’s called moving on after loss,” Veronica said. “Be grateful for what you were given. Not living your life is a dumb ass way to spend your day.”

Carmen sighed. “Veronica, we’ve talked about this.”

“What? I can’t say dumb ass? Really? Is anyone here genuinely offended?”

Unity wanted to say she was, but she was too focused on surviving the unexpected attack.

“I’m not stuck,” she whispered.

Carmen gave her a sympathetic look. “Are you sure?”

Unity wanted to say she was happy loving Stuart, even if he wasn’t with her anymore, but knew that would open her to another round of blunt statements she couldn’t stand to hear. She felt raw and exposed and she wished she’d stayed home.

“Your points are good ones,” she lied, just wanting them to focus on someone else. Their words made her feel raw and unwelcome and way too close to losing control.

Carmen seemed to sense that and changed the subject. Unity got through the rest of the meeting. When it was over, she hurried to her van and drove home. Her stomach ached, her head pounded and she felt like she could throw up, but worst of all she wanted to call Ellen and tell her what had happened and she couldn’t because they were fighting.

The enormity of that slammed into her, making her eyes fill with tears even as her body seemed to contract in on itself. She felt like a squashed bug—all flat and bleeding. Her chest got so tight, she couldn’t breathe.

Ellen was her family. Unity couldn’t remember a time when she and Ellen hadn’t been friends. She also couldn’t remember them ever fighting—certainly not as adults.

She sat at the kitchen table and replayed the early morning conversation in her head. Ellen had been upset about Cooper and had wanted help. Ellen had needed her and she hadn’t been there.

No wonder Ellen had felt dismissed and ignored. Unity of all people should have seen that.

She sat up straight. What if the fight had ruined everything? What if their relationship could never be made right? What if it was broken beyond repair?

Panic seized her, forcing her to her feet. But when she was standing, she didn’t know what to do. How could she show Ellen she understood and was sorry? Because she was sorry and she was scared. More scared than she’d ever been because whenever she’d faced something bad, she’d known Ellen would be there for her, no matter what, and she didn’t have that certainty anymore.

An apology was required, but that didn’t help Ellen. Not really. There had to be another solution—one that made Ellen feel heard and maybe fixed the problem.

Unity walked into her small office. She pulled out a pad of paper and reached for a pen. Ellen needed to convince Cooper she had a life, even though she didn’t. Which meant she had to start doing things to show him she had things she looked forward to, like going out and dressing in clothes that fit and—

Unity started making a list of ways Ellen could change her life. When she’d nearly filled a page with items—some helpful, some ridiculous—she studied it. There were a few good ideas here. She should tell Ellen how she could fix the problem.

“Because people love to be told what to do?” she murmured aloud, thinking about how she’d been attacked at her grief group.

She thought about what people had said. She hadn’t enjoyed everyone piling on her, as if she were the only one with a problem. It wasn’t as if they had their acts together either.

Unity started a second list—this one about herself. She took some items from Ellen’s list and added a few others for herself.

She knew she had zero interest in changing. She didn’t want to heal and move on, but that wasn’t the point. She needed her friend back more than she needed to breathe. She’d hurt Ellen and now they were fighting. Unity would do anything to make that right. She didn’t have to believe—she just had to convince Ellen she believed. And maybe this was a start.

  By late afternoon Ellen had lost her mad and she just missed Unity. The fight had been stupid. She and Unity had been friends forever. Shouldn’t they do better than they had that morning?

She was just about to call and say that when Cooper walked into the living room, a basketball under one arm, his dark hair falling in his eyes.

“I’m meeting Luka at the park,” he said, looking more like a kid than a young man in his baggy shorts and oversize T-shirt. “Then we’re going back to his place for a barbecue. I’ll be home by eleven.”

She smiled at him. “Have fun.”

“I will.” He hesitated, his blue eyes darkened with concern. “What are you going to do, Mom?”

As in it was a Saturday night and she was a carefree single woman who should have plans. Plans that made her sound like she didn’t need her teenage son worrying about her.