“It’s perfect fishing weather so I took off early. Thought you and I might head out?”
After this morning’s one-sided argument at breakfast, where Karen had vented, “It’s like you’re avoiding us,” and Alice had remained mute, because in this instance her mother was correct, Alice knew Karen would have insisted Peter take the afternoon off to “talk to Alice.” This fishing trip was more to do with fishing for information than about landing bream.
But Alice wasn’t up to telling anyone that her body was defective, let alone her parents. It would be yet another area of her life where she’d given them cause to worry. It was easier to lie.
“Lovely idea, Dad, but I’ve got a Gazette deadline.”
He nodded, disappointment clear on his face. “Well, if you change your mind …”
“Thanks.”
He walked away. Alice shoved down her guilt and returned to her digital spring cleaning. The only positive thing about being told her body was useless was how it put Tim’s betrayal into perspective. Although she hadn’t deliberately planned to ghost him, she’d been so shattered by Lacey’s shocking news, she’d lacked the emotional energy to do anything, let alone verbally abuse him or track down his wife.
At first his texts had been romantic, counting down the minutes until they met. Then worried, then angry. She didn’t care and as each one had hit her phone, she’d deleted them, just like she’d cut off his calls. The deleting now extended to all his texts, emails, photos and the treasured poem he’d written her earlier in the year. She’d turned up the volume on her computer, taking pleasure in the loud scrunching noise as it all disappeared into the virtual trash.
Her four dating apps faded as her phone did an update, prompting Alice to question their place on her device. Her approach to dating had been all about finding The One—the father of her children. A sob clogged her throat. No point now. She set about trying to delete the apps, but in the end, after being asked so many times if she was absolutely certain, it was easier to switch them to offline. When the apps asked why, she chose the ridiculous option of I’m prioritizing me, when really, she wanted there to be an option of Men on dating apps are lying pricks.
An hour later she was officially off the dating scene. It felt—she’d hoped for great, freeing, redemptive, wonderful. All she felt was empty.
For only the second time outside of their standard Thursday arrangement, she texted Dan.
Fancy a spur of the moment benefit? Like right now?
Aw, Twin Two! Lousy timing. Relief teaching then training. Tonight?
Tonight was hours away. Alice needed something right now. Anything to stop this awful nothingness churning inside her.
Harry’s open-ended invitation popped into her mind. If anyone could take her mind off her own misery, it was Hunter. Just keeping up with the kid’s rapid thought processes blocked all thoughts of her own and today that sounded damn near perfect.
She started texting then stopped. Harry didn’t text. He either emailed well in advance or he called. She brought up his number and hit the phone icon.
“Alice!”
“Hi, Harry. Does today work for Holly’s wildflower drawing class and Hunter’s fire?”
Five minutes later, she was heading out the door to the butcher.
According to Harry, Brutus responded to modulated tones so, despite feeling ridiculous, Alice walked into the Waxmans’ back yard attempting to emulate the TV weather woman.
“There’s a slight chance of precipitation this evening, Brutus, clearing overnight for a fine and mild spring day.”
The greyhound stood stock still, staring at her. At least he wasn’t trembling violently.
Harry appeared at the back door with a smile and a wave. Excited by her progress with the neurotic dog, Alice called out, “Hey, Harry! It worked!”
Brutus took off like a shot, diving under some bushes.
“Oh God. Sorry!”
Harry laughed. “Don’t worry. Expecting a twirler to be quiet and sedate is a lot to ask.”
Alice almost said, “I’m so not in a twirling mood,” but Harry would pick up on that and then he’d ask questions she didn’t want to answer. Besides, the whole point of going out with the family was to forget the last few days. “Yes, but life with a twirler is never boring,” she quipped instead, faking upbeat until she felt it. She suddenly noticed Harry looked different. Neater? “Have you got new glasses?”
He took them off and looked at them in surprise. “No. Why?”
“You look different.”
“I got my hair cut. Holly told me it wasn’t surfer dude cool just dad messy.”
She laughed. “That’s harsh.”
“Was she right?”
“You need to ask? We both know she has an aesthetic eye.”
“Now who’s being harsh? Anyway, she insisted I go to that new unisex salon. I’m still in shock at the price. It’s the most expensive haircut I’ve had in my life. What do you reckon? Was it worth it?”
Alice tilted her head and studied him. Without the shaggy mess, his salt and pepper hair sat thick and neat, giving him a distinguished yet casual look. Alice wondered if this was closer to the hairstyle he’d sported before grief settled over him. It suited him and he looked good.
“You never know, it might just earn you a casserole or two from the mothers at school,” she teased.
He gave a dismissive wave. “I’ve been getting those since I arrived in the bay.”
Really? “Well, in that case, now you’re neat and presentable, you’ll be fending off invitations to the school trivia night.”
“Been doing that since well before the haircut.”
Women were asking Harry out? Alice didn’t know why it surprised her other than she’d never thought about him in terms of dating. But she supposed for divorced women in their forties, Harry was probably a catch. Except, Harry had clearly given her the impression he wasn’t ready for another relationship.
“So, you’re dating?”
“God, no. Just eating a lot of casseroles and enduring some
