You Are Not Alone(72)

I wonder if they’ve become inured to their reflections in the mirror, or if they still appreciate how dazzling they are. But I feel good, too—it’s like their dazzle is contagious. I styled my hair and I’m wearing the shirt I bought at Daphne’s boutique. I’m going to wear the floral scarf they gave me with my leather jacket tonight, too.

“Come in!” I say when they reach me. I point to the bag of books that I’ve placed by the door. “So you don’t forget them again.”

“Oh, thanks,” Jane says as I close the door behind her. “Wow, that’s a perfect first-date outfit.”

“You look effortlessly chic,” Cassandra adds.

“Thanks. I’m actually a little nervous. The last guy who chased after me was trying to sell me a fake Rolex.”

They laugh, then Cassandra says, “Well, I’ve got something that can help with your nerves.” She holds up a bottle of champagne. “A client just gave this to us, and believe me, we need it after what she puts us through. Total diva. Okay if I open it?”

“Of course. I don’t have any champagne flutes, though.…”

I look at my kitchen counter, where I set out three of the new wineglasses from the set I bought earlier this week. They’re pretty and feminine, with different-colored glass balls—amber, cobalt, and emerald—near the bottom of the stems. They look nice alongside the flowers and platter of snacks.

“Oh, Shay.” Jane comes over to give me a hug. I smell her now-familiar delicate floral perfume and feel her soft hair brush my cheek. “You didn’t need to do all this.”

I think I detect a melancholy tone in her sweet voice, but it’s hard to tell because Cassandra interjects, “But I’m glad you did!”

She walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls the foil off the mouth of the bottle of Dom Pérignon, then removes the metal cage. She twists off the top, and I reflexively wince as a loud pop fills the room. Froth instantly begins to bubble over the rim of the bottle. She expertly catches it in one of the glasses, then fills the other two.

I take a sip from the glass she handed me. I’ve never had Dom Pérignon before, and it tastes delicious.

I watch as Cassandra takes a long drink from her glass—she has the one with the amber ball, which complements her eyes—then she sighs. “I wish we could hang out with you tonight instead of going to this work thing.” She helps herself to a slice of cheese. “I’d love nothing more than to collapse on the couch, drink and eat, and watch a movie.”

I can’t quite believe that the Moore sisters would prefer being here than at whatever fabulous event they’re scheduled to attend, but maybe when you spend so much time out socializing, you yearn for the allure of a quiet evening in.

Jane puts a hand on Cassandra’s arm. “We had some fun nights in this apartment with Amanda, too.”

I don’t know what to say at the mention of Amanda’s name, so I just look down.

Cassandra adds, “We’re really happy we’re here with you now, Shay.” She clears her throat softly. “As hard as Amanda’s death was for us, the only silver lining is that it led you to us.”

Her generous words pierce through my chest. I blink back the threat of tears. “I know how much you both loved her.”

“We think about her every day,” Cassandra says. I can see tears in her eyes, too.

“I still picture her in that green polka-dot dress, walking to the subway for the last time,” Jane adds, sounding wistful. “I’d thought about calling her that morning, to check in. But I got busy—I can’t even remember with what. I always wonder if maybe that could have changed the course of everything.…”

Jane sighs and takes another sip of champagne. I do the same. The only thing filling the silence is the music still playing from the little speaker I’ve attached to my iPhone, but by now Pink has yielded to Alicia Keys.

“Do you guys want to sit down?” I gesture to my sofa and the chair flanking it.

“Let me just top us off.” Cassandra takes my glass and turns her back to me as she reaches for the champagne bottle.

“So, how was your week, Shay?” Jane picks up the platter and brings it to the coffee table. “Hopefully less hectic than ours.”

Before I can answer, Cassandra turns back around: “Here you go.” She stretches a drink toward me and I reflexively take it.

I know immediately this glass isn’t the one I had before. This one has the amber ball on the bottom of the stem; I had the emerald-green one.

“Oh, I already drank from that one.” I gesture to the glass in Cassandra’s other hand.

I expect her to switch with me. But she just smiles. “Who cares?”

Jane raises her glass. “Cheers.”

Then they both take a sip. So I do the same.

“Mmm, isn’t Dom the best?” Cassandra says.

“Yummy,” I agree. The bubbles take up half the glass and tickle my nose. I wonder if all expensive champagnes are so frothy.

Jane flops onto the far end of the couch, and Cassandra takes the chair. Which leaves the spot between them for me. I sit down, feeling my weight sink into the pillows. When I first bought this couch on Craigslist, I thought it was too soft and squishy. But tonight it feels heavenly.

I curl my legs beneath me and take another drink, reflecting on how I’ve lost some of my connections to my other friends, but now I have Cassandra and Jane. It sounds too corny to say, but I can’t help thinking it: The Moore sisters saved me.