I'm Fine and Neither Are You(15)

“Do you guys want a story?” I asked the kids. My voice sounded wooden, but my kids didn’t seem to notice. They stopped squabbling and began making requests—mutant alligators, a princess who only wore pants, kryptonite. This was our routine: they supplied the characters and key elements, and I devised a plot. Even Cecily began chiming in to say she wanted the princess to have a pet frog.

I had just had the princess’ frog swallow the kryptonite in order to defeat the alligators when my phone began buzzing in my bag. I steadied myself, expecting to see Matt’s name or maybe even a hospital number on the screen.

It was Russ. Checking in to make sure you actually got home, he had written.

“One second, guys,” I said to the kids, trying to sound as though my heart had not just sunk yet again. Russ’ text had just reminded me that there were nearly a million dollars riding on a proposal that I had not yet written and would not write at any point that evening. Worse, I had forgotten to tell Russ, who would have to be the one to inform George Blatner that we had nothing to show him. I began to type.

So sorry! I didn’t, because—

I quickly erased this and tried again.

I’m really sorry. I’m not going to be able to do—

I erased that, too. Thumbs trembling, I wrote, My friend Jenny is dead. I haven’t done the proposal and I won’t be in tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you.

Damn, Russ wrote back seconds later. I’ll take care of it. I’m sorry, Penny.

His uncharacteristically gracious response made the situation feel . . . real, somehow. I took a long drink of my soda to wash down the sob in my throat.

Beside me, Sanjay was shoveling fries down his gullet. “Anything?” he said, half a fry still hanging from his mouth.

“No. It was work.”

Across the table, Cecily had removed a miniature knock-off Barbie from its plastic packaging, but was still regarding the rest of her cardboard-box meal with suspicion. I expected her to ask me to finish my story, and honestly, I was hoping she would—even a world with mutant alligators was preferable to the red-and-gold blur of the restaurant, where children were screeching, the odor of burger patties and fries was permeating my clothes, and I was forced to grapple with the reality that I no longer had a best friend.

But when she looked up at me with saucer-wide eyes, Cecily said, “Aunt Penny? Where’s Mommy?”

Storytime was over. “I’m not sure, Cess, but I think she’s with your daddy.”

Who was aware your mommy had a problem that I knew nothing about .





SIX

Our Happy Meal trick may have worked, but the kids were markedly less enthused about the sleepover Sanjay and I proposed on the way home. Stevie, who took sleep almost as seriously as Sanjay did, complained that she was too tired. Miles whispered that he didn’t want Cecily to know if he had an accident.

And Cecily—well, Cecily was no fool. “Mommy said I can’t spend the night at someone else’s until I’m ten,” she said crossly from the backseat. “I’m not ten for another three and a half years. I want to go home.”

“Well, this is . . .” I couldn’t exactly call it a special occasion. “This is an exception. Like McDonald’s,” I said, though Cecily had barely touched her meal. I cringed as I began my next lie. “Your parents are in the middle of something important. So, you’re going to stay with us, just for a little bit.”

“Mommy would have told me that,” she insisted. “I want her to come get me. Right. Now.”

My throat tightened. My mother used to go missing for hours at a time, until one night she disappeared for good. But while I had certainly watched Cecily for a day at a time in the past, Jenny had always informed her daughter of her plans beforehand.

I swallowed hard, searching for the same courage I’d had to summon when telling Nick not to worry, that our mother wasn’t there but everything would still be okay. Like then, I didn’t buy what I was trying to sell. But acting like I did with every fiber of my being was the only way to get through this night and let Matt be the one to break the news to Cecily.

“Sweetie,” I said, turning toward the backseat, “I don’t blame you for being angry. But your daddy asked if you could hang out with us for a little longer. Let’s try to make the most of this, okay?”

Cecily’s eyes were narrowed, but she nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly.

Sanjay turned on a television show for them when we got home. As soon as it was over, he announced it was time to hit the hay.

After I tucked Cecily into Stevie’s bed (which I had been permitted to do only after allowing Stevie to pass out in our bed), and then fought with Miles for two minutes before giving in and letting him pass out beside his sister, I poured myself a glass of wine. Then I sat at the kitchen table, waiting to finally shed the tears I had been holding back for most of the night.

But my eyes stayed dry.

What I had believed to be true—that my best friend was dead—just an hour earlier now felt like a terrible tale I had spun of cobwebs from the darkest corners of my imagination. After all, if Jenny had the kind of problem that killed a person, I would have known.

Wouldn’t I?

“I can’t believe it,” I said to Sanjay after I finished telling him about my brief conversation with Matt. Gone were thoughts of Russ and George Blatner; camp and lunches and the rest of my scroll-length to-do list were already a distant memory.