“So.”
“So what happened?”
“With what?”
“With Researcher 101?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“It’s over.”
“It’s over? Just like that, it’s over?”
“Yes. Happy now?”
“Oh, this is ridiculous, Alice. Are you going to invite me in or not?”
I open the door wide and Nedra wheels her bike in.
“I didn’t know Brits perspired. Do you want a towel?”
Nedra props the bike against the wall, then rubs her sweaty face on the sleeve of my T-shirt. “No need, darling. Is William here?”
“What do you want with William?”
“It’s a business matter,” she says. “I have a proposition for him.”
“He’s in the kitchen.”
“Are we still not talking?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. You’ll let me know when we are?”
“Yes.”
“Via phone or text?”
“Smoke signals.”
“Have you spoken to Zoe about Ho-Girl?”
No, I haven’t spoken to Zoe yet and I feel terrible about that. But the truth is, Ho-Girl and Zoe’s betrayal of Jude are on the back burner as I try and make sense of what’s happening between Researcher 101 and me.
“You’re making too big a deal of it. We’re talking cupcakes, Nedra.”
“Don’t put it off, Alice. I really think there’s something there you should look at.”
“Nedra?” William calls from the kitchen. “Is that you?”
“Ta, darling. At least somebody in this house is happy to see me,” says Nedra, walking away, leaving me alone in the foyer.
Shonda Perkins
5 minutes ago
Julie Staggs
33 minutes ago
Linda Barbedian
4 hours ago
Bobby Barbedian
5 hours ago
I’m trying to distract myself from the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen by reading my Facebook feeds, when my computer makes a submarine sound. A Skype message flashes on my screen.
Beautiful Russian Ladies
Are European and American women too arrogant for you?Are you looking for a sweet lady that will be caring and understanding? Then you come to the right place. Here you find a Russian lady that will love you with all her heart.
www.russiansexywoman.com
Please excuse if you are not interested.
For some reason I find this solicitation touching and sad. Is there anyone in the world who is not looking for somebody who will love them with all their heart?
There’s a sudden rap on my door. William walks into my office. “So that was interesting. Nedra asked me to cook for her wedding.”
“Cook what?”
“Dinner. Appetizers. Dessert. The entire meal.”
“You’re kidding!”
“It’s a small crowd, only twenty-five or so people. I’ve asked Caroline to help me.”
“You want to do this?”
“I think it’ll be fun. Plus she’s paying me. Quite well, I might add.”
“You know Nedra and I aren’t speaking.”
“I gathered that. What are you not speaking about?”
“The maid-of-honor dress she wants me to wear. It’s horrible. Empire waist. Puffy sleeves. I’ll look like Queen Victoria.”
“She’s your best friend, Alice. You’re going to miss her wedding over a dress?”
I frown. He’s completely right, of course.
“Alice? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?” It’s so hard to keep this up. To continually hide my distracted state.
“You just seem-funny,” he says.
“Well, you seem funny, too.”
“Yup. Although I’m trying not to be.”
He looks at me a moment too long, and I turn away. “So have you thought about the menu?” I croak.
“Anything but oysters. That’s the only requirement. Nedra thinks they’re too obvious. Like roses or champagne on Valentine’s Day.”
“I love oysters.”
“I know you do.”
“I haven’t had them in a long time.”
William shakes his head. “I don’t know why you insist on keeping yourself from the things you love.”
84
After William leaves, I go upstairs to my bedroom and shut the door. I set the timer on my phone for fifteen minutes. Then I let myself feel all the anticipation and heartbreak of the past few days. William’s comment about “missing us” ticker-tapes though my head, a constant loop. Ten minutes later, I’m sitting in the middle of the bed with a pile of used Kleenex in front of me, when I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. I can tell by the light tread that it’s Bunny. I try and compose myself, but it’s useless.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, opening the door.
“It’s fine. It’s really fine. I’m really very fine,” I say, the tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Can I do anything?”
“No, don’t worry. It’s just-” I burst into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed.”
Bunny enters the room, pulls out a starched hankie from her pants pocket, and hands it to me.
I stare at it blankly. “Oh, I couldn’t. It’s clean. I’m going to get it all dirty.”
“It’s a handkerchief. That’s what it’s for, Alice.”
“Really? That’s so nice,” I say, and then I start crying again, the full-blown ugly cry, hiccupping and gulping and trying to stop and not being able to.
Bunny sits beside me on the bed. “You’ve been holding that in a long time, haven’t you?”
