Finally, Beth nudged my side. “Phone away.”
“Sorry. Work.”
“How’s the new job?” Greg asked as he tossed popcorn into his mouth.
“Good. Busy. I spent the day with Trina, getting up to speed. How was your day?”
We launched into mindless small talk, sharing the minutiae of daily life.
Usually I enjoyed visiting with Greg, but this seemed stiff and awkward, as if Jake sat between us. When the previews started, I almost cheered, finally relieved of the duty to make nice with the uninvited guest to our girls’ night. I sank lower in my seat, angling away so I didn’t have to watch the two cuddle and whisper, their heads bent close together. The entire movie felt like its own brand of torture, a reminder of everything I didn’t have.
As the final credits rolled almost two hours later, Greg said, “We’re heading for a late-night snack. You should join us.”
Forcing a yawn, I smothered it and shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m totally beat. I’ll take a rain check.”
“Are you sure?” Beth asked, linking her arm through her boyfriend’s.
“Yeah, you two go on. Have fun.” I hugged my friend and waved at Greg, starting my solo trudge up the long hill, keeping my eyes averted as a happy couple’s laughter rang across the busy street.
If only Christophe lived closer. Finding a great guy who lived in the same city seemed impossible. Though even if he did live in Vancouver, the man travelled extensively. Right now, he was in Rio de Janiero on assignment.
On my way into my building, I stopped at the bank of mailboxes and opened number twenty-four, sorting through the pile and disposing of the junk mail. That left me with a thick legal-size envelope sporting the distinctive logo of Kyle’s investment firm, and a thin letter-size envelope showing my lawyer’s return address. Clever, hiding a bloated legal statement in this non-threatening smallish envelope. The one from Kyle’s firm had me curious.
I stared at the fat one, recognizing the distinctive logo as belonging to Kyle’s investment firm. The thin one was from my lawyer, who was certainly hiding a bloated legal statement in a non-threatening smallish envelope.
All the way up the elevator I tapped them against my palm, reluctant to open either. These days, my mail never contained good news, usually consisting of unexpected and unwelcome extra bills. Not the greatest way to top off my busy day and disappointing movie night. I hung my keys on the hook inside my front door, shuffling into the silent space.
I hung my keys on the hook inside my front door, shuffling into the silent space. Tonight, it felt even emptier. Over the summer, I’d become accustomed to arriving home to find Jake lounging on my couch or cooking in my kitchen. Everything still reminded me of his presence, no matter how hard I tried to forget.
With a heavy sigh, I dropped the mail onto the island and dug into the fridge, pulling out a container of Indian Fusion leftovers and popping it into the microwave. While the small appliance hummed, I selected a Pinot Noir I’d been saving and poured, filling the glass almost to the rim. I leaned against the counter, sipping the rich wine and staring through my open blinds at the winking lights across the water.
Despite spending not only Friday night, but also Saturday with Christophe, and the fact he’d already invited me to Victoria for the upcoming weekend, I felt exceedingly lonely. My work colleagues were mostly just that—colleagues. On occasion we’d go for Friday night drinks, but most had husbands or wives or kids to hurry home to on a weeknight.
Beth had become more and more immersed in Greg, and without Jake, our interactions were becoming fewer and further between. Tonight she’d allowed him to encroach on our sacred movie night, making me reluctant to attend the next one.
The microwave beeped, and I grabbed a hot mitt to wrangle out the steaming butter chicken. I heated some rice and mixed the two dishes together in a pasta bowl, hunching over the island as I ate.
I inspected the two envelopes, weighing the pros and cons. Bad news first or worse news first? Taking a large bite, I chewed slowly, slitting the flap of the thin envelope with my fingernail and slowly unfolding the contents, preparing myself for acute sticker shock.
I swallowed hard and blinked, double checking the balance at the bottom, sure I had missed something. The total consisted of three neat zeros, suggesting someone had made a grievous accounting error.
Tomorrow I’d call the law office, because this mishap had the power to circle around and take a chunk from my ass if I didn’t take care of it right away.
“Huh. Should have done the other one first,” I muttered as I drummed on the counter. I washed down another forkful of butter chicken with a mouthful of wine, then slit the flap of the second envelope. To my surprise, the contents of this one also had a few neat zeros in the balance column, but these ones were combined with a pile of sweet numerals.
Of course, I knew Kyle had deposited retirement savings under my name, taking the rightful tax deductions, but this balance was far higher than I anticipated.
I flipped through the stack of papers, picking off the yellow sticky note affixed to the last one.
Amara,
These are the statements for the Registered Retirement Funds I deposited for you during our marriage. I took the liberty of adding some funds for this year and opening another account in your name for the future. I deposited a sum in the cash account in case you want to pay off your condo. I’ve asked my colleague Matt to take over managing your investments, so call him if you have
