CHAPTER 4
GRETCHEN AND I SAT AT MY KITCHEN TABLE, laptops open and address books splayed out, while we sipped two cups of coffee on Saturday morning. She’d had invitations made during the week, and Andrew had e-mailed me his contact list, agreeing to not only host the party at their place, but foot the bill as well. That meant it was an expense I wouldn’t have to argue over with Bill. Gretchen addressed envelopes as I, in my sweats, absentmindedly blew on my drink, leaning my hip against the counter. I stared at the studied handwriting of my stack of invitations, pleased with the outcome.
“What is this, the break room?” Gretchen interrupted my daze. “Back to work. Where’s Bill anyway?” she asked abruptly, as though she’d just noticed his absence.
“Basketball. Andrew’s started playing with them, and I think they’re getting pretty chummy.”
“Oh,” she replied, coiling a roll of stamps around her finger. And then, “Do you guys do it on this table?”
I nearly spit out my coffee as I burst into laughter. “No!” I exclaimed, giving her a reproachful look. “But actually, I could use some sordid stories in my life. Spill.”
“I went out with that guy Rick from the ballet a few times, but that’s about it right now.”
“Oh my God! I forgot to tell you!”
She cocked an eyebrow at me. “What?”
“I ran into him last weekend when I was walking one of the dogs from the shelter. For one, he told me you wouldn’t call him back.”
“Nah. He’s sorta whack.”
“Um, k, he seems nice. Anyway, he was interested in the dog I was walking, Eureka, and I just found out that he adopted her.”
“Oh, that’s sweet. Now I feel bad about not calling him back.”
“Well you can’t now, what if you end up together? I’d never be able to forget how you called him whack.”
“All right, for your sake, I’ll leave it be.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“There is something else, though,” she said hesitantly.
“Spill,” I demanded again, alarmed at the nervous look on her face.
“I got a message from Greg the other night.”
“What?” I said, dropping my pen onto the table. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t know how to feel about it. I still don’t.”
“What did it say?”
“To call him.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you?”
She shook her head vigorously, blonde wisps escaping from the bun on top of her head. I had flashbacks to the apartment Lucy and I had shared at Notre Dame, where the three of us would sit at that kitchen table talking about Greg.
During our first class of Introductory Biology, Greg and I were the only people who seemed to notice how crazy the professor was. We’d looked at each other across the room and made the same face. We became fast friends and turned out to be dorm neighbors too. He, Lucy and I would discuss lectures over cold pizza in the dining hall or stay up late drinking Kahlua hot chocolates under the fleece Fighting Irish blanket my dad had sent me. He was smart and charming, and I was proud to call him a friend.
He and Gretchen grew to know each other over the weekends that she would visit me from Chicago. They didn’t make it official until junior year, but I had instantly seen how compatible they were.
When smart and charming Greg mercilessly broke up with Gretchen two days before graduation, he wounded all of us: me, Lucy, her boyfriend at the time and the rest of our tight-knit college family. He’d told us that he’d accepted a job in Japan, an offer we’d heard nothing about, and that he was moving to start a new life. I knew he was afraid of how intense things had become with Gretchen, and I tried to get her to see that too. She spent the weeks following graduation wallowing at her parents’ house, accepting little comfort. When she emerged, it was to sign the lease on our new apartment and she never mentioned his name again. Until now.
“Wow,” I said softly. “Aren’t you curious about what he has to say?”
She widened her eyes at me and shook her head again. “It’s done,” she said with finality. We both jumped a second later when her phone vibrated against the wooden table. We exchanged a wary glance before she peeked at it without touching, as though it might bite.
“It’s just John,” she said exhaling. “Hey,” she answered. “Yep that’s fine, just send me – uh huh, okay – just send me the file, and I’ll look it over.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “Maybe he ought to hire a capable secretary instead of bugging me to edit his press releases. Nothing, just talking to Liv.” She paused. “Sure, hang on.” She held the phone out to me.
“Hi, John.”
“Hi, beautiful. I miss you.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I miss you too,” I said. “How come you never visit your lovely sister and her awesome friends?”
“Just say the word, Germaine, and I’m there.” I laughed loudly and Gretchen, all too familiar with her brother’s penchant for flirting, rolled her eyes. “How are you? Really?”
“Hangin’ in there,” I said.
“Don’t say that, you know I hate it.”
“All right, I’m great, better than ever.”
“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully. “No good. I want you to be happy, but not too happy, at least not ‘til we get together.” I shook my head and reddened. Our conversations always went that way, but he still had the ability to make me blush. “Is Bill taking care of you?”
“Yes.”
“And work?”
“Good. I’m up for a promotion, in fact. Speaking of work, I hear you have a new - ” I stopped myself as Gretchen slapped my arm. “Er, new stapler.”
“Ha. Gretch told you. I do, I have a new girl. But quit trying to change the subject. Tell me something about your life that’s not in the public domain.”
“I don’t really have much going on right now.”
“Come on, you’re holding out on me.”
“Oh, I know, Bill and I - ”
“Nope.”
“I’m married, John, I hardly have a life of my own. Okay how about this - I’m going to ask my dad for the Shelby. Bill doesn’t know though,” I added, looking at Gretchen.
“The ‘68? Livs, you spoiled brat. You always get what you want, ever since we were kids. That car is a trip. You’d look hot in it.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m giving you back to your sister.”
“Wait, Liv,” he said, a little more seriously. “I’m glad you’re doing well. Next time I want something juicier though.”
“Deal,” I promised. “Here’s your sister.”
“I didn’t hear your side of the conversation bro,” Gretchen started, “but Liv here is as red as that Shelby. You’re lucky Bill’s not around to see this.” I threw a piece of muffin at her and then immediately went to pick it up before turning my attention back to the invitations.