You Are Not Alone(49)
“Hello!” I call as I step in and reflexively kick off my flats, the ones I got at Zara.
Sean pokes his head around from the kitchen at the same moment I notice the bench that used to be by the door is missing.
“Hey!” He wipes his hands on a blue-striped apron I’ve never before seen. He does a double take. “Wow, you look … different.”
I touch my palms to the ends of my hair. “Yeah, I decided it was time for a change.” I point to my eyes. “I’m wearing contacts now, too.”
Jody appears, wearing a yellow-striped version of the same apron. “I love your hair!” she squeals, clapping her hands. “Where’d you get it done?”
“Cassandra and Jane took me to their place. Downtown.”
I see Jody’s eyes widen at the mention of the Moore sisters, but I don’t give her any more details.
I look down at my flats and Sean nods toward the closet. “It was getting a little cluttered, so we started keeping our shoes in there.”
“Ah.” I move toward my bedroom. Jody sure isn’t wasting any time making her mark on the place, I think. “Anyway, I just came back to grab a few things. I’m house-sitting for another week.”
I expect Sean to accompany Jody back into the kitchen, but he doesn’t. Instead, he follows me. “It’s been weird not having you around. Wanna grab a beer next week and catch up?”
Even though I’m looking forward to meeting some nice guys online, seeing Sean standing in my doorway, with that silly apron on and his gingery hair sticking up in the back again, makes my stomach flutter. I remember the stat I jotted in my Data Book when I first began to fall for Sean: Forty percent of couples start off as friends.
The odds weren’t bad, but they didn’t tip in our favor.
“Sure,” I reply. “Next week would be great.”
He smiles, but before he can say anything else, Jody calls his name from the kitchen.
“I’ll text you,” he says.
I lay a garment bag on my bed and ease my black suit into it. I pack up the rest of the things I wanted and impulsively grab my makeup palette from the bathroom.
When I step outside again, I look around at the city that seemed to be aligned against me not so long ago. Now even it appears brighter and kinder. Yellow rectangles of light spill out from the windows of nearby buildings, the bustle of traffic and people feels comfortably familiar, and I can hear happy salsa music playing in a minivan idling at the curb.
Even though I walked for miles along the High Line with the sisters, my body feels light and energized.
My job interview is Monday. This time, I’ll go in with confidence. Not because I’ve memorized data on the best way to make a good impression, but because I’m finally feeling it inside me.
I have other things to look forward to: Cassandra and Jane suggested we grab dinner one night next week.
Plus, there will be drinks with Sean.
I’ve suddenly got a social life.
I’m closing in on a job.
As soon as I get the photos from today, I’ll put the finishing touches on my profile for the dating sites.
My streak of bad luck has finally broken.
The only open box left in my life is to find an apartment.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CASSANDRA & JANE
AMANDA’S GHOST IS WITH them in the apartment.
Jane walks through the dusty room, her footsteps echoing. Cassandra stands with her back to the window, staring at the space that once held Amanda’s blue IKEA couch and floral curtains but now contains nothing but memories.
She can almost smell the cinnamon, vanilla, and butter that used to permeate the air. She can see Amanda flopping on the couch, putting her feet on Beth’s lap, complaining that her twelve-hour shift was going to give her bunions. And Amanda demonstrating how small the bathroom was: “I can’t even open the freaking door without it hitting the toilet!”
Cassandra shakes her head, clearing it. They need to stay focused.
“Should we stage it so it looks more appealing?” Cassandra asks. “A few pieces of furniture, maybe a coat of paint?”
Jane considers this, then shakes her head. “We can’t make it seem too good to be true.”
“How’s this for the ad: ‘Cozy studio in sought-after Murray Hill. Close to subway, restaurants, and retail shops.’”
“One more line.”
Once again, they are using words as bait, just as they did when they created the memorial service notice.
Cassandra smiles. “‘Available immediately.’”
“Perfect. Valerie will post it on Apartments.com tonight.”
The sisters already cleared out Amanda’s studio in the weeks following her death. Now they do one final check, peering into kitchen cupboards and opening the dishwasher.
Cassandra opens the oven. A lone cake tin rests on the bottom rack. “She really did love her sweets.” Cassandra pulls out the tin. She tucks it under her arm.
Nothing of Amanda remains here anymore.
Jane nods. “At first I thought she might be too soft—this gentle-looking nurse with her plate of desserts.”
“But she had a bite to her.” Cassandra remembers how they’d heard about the ER nurse from Valerie, who’d gone to City Hospital after fracturing her ankle stumbling off an uneven curb.