“Oh,
A sharp knock at the door, and the cat scrambled off of Gretchen’s lap, tearing at her with unguarded claws as she bolted to the floor and streaked out of the room.
“Ouch.” Gretchen sucked in her breath as she inspected the long, raised scratch on the inside of her thigh.
“Sorry.” Will’s shape was hazy through the screen door. Gretchen waved at him to come in.
“She doesn’t know her own strength.”
“Does it hurt?” He reached toward Gretchen’s thigh, but she dropped the hem of her short pajama bottoms and crossed her legs. Will flushed with sudden embarrassment. He looked down at his hands, as if he were grateful to have something in them. “I, uh, I brought your newspaper in.” He dropped it on the table.
“What’s up? What brings you by at this early hour?”
“You’re always up early.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m expecting visitors. I’m still in my pajamas, aren’t I?”
Will sighed. “You’re hard to argue with.”
“Tell it to my dad. So, what’s up?”
Will shook his head. “I’m not sure.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Did you break up with Jason?”
Gretchen felt the back of her neck get hot. “What?
Why?”
“Just… I heard something.”
“You heard something? From who? Asia?”
Will lifted his eyebrows. “Have you been talking to Asia?”
“Of course. I mean, we work together. But she was there when Jason came in. And when he went out.” Gretchen shrugged. “How do you know about that?”
“How much do you know about Asia?”
“Not much.”
“Not much, like…”
Gretchen hesitated, her mind a twisted jungle of thoughts. Did she know anything about Asia? At work, it was usually Asia who asked most of the questions. She didn’t really give up information about herself. Gretchen studied Will’s face. “Why are you so interested in Asia?”
Will sighed, sat back in his chair. He looked at the clock on the wall. Ten seconds clicked by. “There’s something… I don’t know, strange about her.”
Gretchen spoke carefully. “She’s just shy.”
“Shy? Not quite.”
“She doesn’t talk much.”
“That’s not the same thing as being shy.”
“I guess I don’t know what you’re looking for.” Gretchen heard the heat in her own voice. She took a sip of coffee to calm down. She wrapped her hands around the mug, surprised at the power of her own feelings. She didn’t want to be having this conversation. She didn’t want Will to be asking these questions about Asia. Besides, Gretchen had her own questions. How had Asia stopped Jason in his tracks like that? As if her words-or was it her voice?-had a power of its own.
Gretchen looked down at the pile of mail on the table, pretending to be interested in it. She could feel Will’s eyes studying her.
“Okay,” he said at last.
Gretchen riffled through the mail. She spotted a postmark and pulled a letter out of the pile. She knew the handwriting.
“What is it?” Will asked.
“Nothing,” Gretchen said. She met Will’s eyes. “It’s from my mother.”
They both stared at the letter as if it were a poison thing.
“Are you going to open it?” Will asked.
Gretchen took a sip of her coffee, shook her head.
Will cocked his head. “Has she written to you before?”
Gretchen shrugged. “A couple of times a year.”
“And you just-you don’t read the letters?”
“Not yet.”
“But you will?”
“God, Will, I’m not your science project, okay?” Gretchen snapped. “If my mother has anything to say, she can call. She can Skype. She can get on a plane and come talk to me. She has enough money.” A dart of guilt stabbed at Gretchen-she hadn’t meant to growl at Will. But she didn’t really feel like discussing the situation with her mother. Yvonne had kept everything in the divorce. Gretchen didn’t blame her. Not exactly. After all, her mother had a ton of family money.
But then she’d moved to France and just left them. And Gretchen’s father hadn’t wanted to accept the reality that without Yvonne’s money, their lifestyle just wasn’t sustainable. Johnny’s income wasn’t enough to cover private school, rent, and expenses in Manhattan. Yet for years Johnny had just kept digging the hole that started when Yvonne left. He’d dug until they didn’t have a choice anymore. Johnny had inherited the house on Long Island from his father. He owned it free and clear, so they were going to live in it. “I’m sorry, Will, I just can’t deal with all of that right now.”
Will frowned at the bitterness in her voice. “Okay,” he said. It was a retreat, and it sounded like one. “So,” Will went on, switching gears, “are we going to that party tonight?”
“I thought you didn’t want to go.”
“I don’t.”
“But you’re doing it to cheer me up?”
“Is it going to work?”
Gretchen gave him a lopsided smile. “Probably.”
Will sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“So I’m picking you up at nine?”
“I said I’d go-not that I’d be willing to get stuck there all night. I’ll meet you.”
“You’d better show up.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
Gretchen thought it over. “Yes.”
“Not since eighth grade. And I would’ve called that time-I just didn’t have a cell phone.”
“If that’s the story you’re sticking with…”
Will stood up. “I’ll be there,” he promised.
Gretchen nodded. She picked up her mug of coffee and took a sip. It wasn’t hot anymore, just a comfortable, warm temperature. “Good,” she said. “Now get out of here. I have to go to work.”
Will pointed to her leg. “Don’t forget to put something on that scratch.”
She’d forgotten all about the cat. At the mention of the scratch, it started to throb. “Love hurts,” Gretchen said.
Will nodded. “Tell me about it.”
Gretchen scanned the press of bodies, searching for Will.
“Gretchen!” Harry Ansell waved and pushed his way through the partygoers to greet her. He was wearing a navy polo shirt, khaki shorts, and expensive-looking pair of leather sandals, and he looked like what he was-a nice but not too smart prep school kid on his way to a second-tier college in the fall. Gretchen had never known him well, but they had been friendly over the years. They showed up at a lot of the same parties in the city, traveled in the same circles.
“Hey, Ansell,” Gretchen said. Hardly anyone ever called Harry by his first name.
