Maddie squeezed her knuckle. “It’s hard to explain. I just . . . I don’t want to do anything that might betray Olivia.”
Britt’s expression turned long-suffering. “Want to know what I think?”
“I’m afraid to say yes.”
“I think that you were comfortable as the third wheel back when Olivia was alive and you had a hopeless crush on Leo. Now that Olivia’s gone and your crush might not be so hopeless,I think that you’ve cast yourself as the bad friend, and you’re not so comfortable in that role. So”—she filled her lungs with air—“let me set the record straight. You weren’t a bad friend to Olivia, Maddie. You were a great friend to her. And Leo was a great husband to her.” She paused. “Do you think Olivia would have been against the prospect of Leo falling in love again? Of him remarrying?”
“Maybe! Maybe she would have preferred that he remain faithful to her until his death.”
“You’re a very loyal person, Maddie. Remember when we were in tenth grade and I threw up in history class? Everyone else shrieked and rushed to the other side of the room and then started whispering and giggling. Except you. You put your hand on my shoulder, and you scolded everyone for reacting the way they had instead of showing compassion to the sick person.” She laughed.
“I remember.” Maddie had been surprised at herself after that incident. She hadn’t realized she’d had it in her to reprimand a roomful of her classmates.
“In this case, though,” Britt said, “I think your loyalty to Olivia has turned into a runaway train. Just because Olivia died doesn’t mean you have to compensate by becoming hyper-loyal to her now. Leo’s only thirty-one years old. Let’s say he lives to the age of ninety-one.” Britt’s lips tipped down with skepticism. “Do you really think our kind, outgoing, bighearted friend would want the man she loved to go through life alone for the next sixty years?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I am sure. She wouldn’t. There’sno wayshe’d have wanted him to spend the rest of his life that way after being married to her for less than three years. And I happen to think that Olivia would have preferred for him to date one of her friends rather than a stranger.”
“What? No!”
“You knew her very well, Maddie. You treasure her memory.” She tossed out a hand for emphasis. “If Leo dates a woman who never met her, that woman won’t give a fig about Olivia. You and me and Hannah and Mia, wewantto remember her. A stranger won’t.”
It was so quiet that she could hear the couple from down the hall talking as they made their way along the corridor to their apartment. The whir of the heater. The ticking of her decorative clock.
“Pray about it,” Britt said. “Listen to what God has to say in response. You’ll see that He agrees with me on this.”
“You always think God agrees with you.”
“This time, I’m doubly sure that He does.”
Chapter Eight
Maddie hadn’t driven to the lookout in years, yet her heart still knew the way. She steered along a network of small streets before parking at her destination.
The lookout was little more than a half-circle of dirt, sweeping outward from a secluded road that graced the top of Twinflower Hill like a necklace. A short cement fence had been erected at the lip of the lookout to keep cars from tumbling over the edge, because from here, the land dipped steeply away. The view revealed the Hood Canal, the distant mountains, and the town of Merryweather nestled among the trees far below.
After killing the engine, Maddie simply sat, taking in the scene. Remembering.
It was nearing two o’clock. She’d yet to eat lunch, and soon she’d need to get herself ready for her family’s Christmas Eve get-together.
Soon, but not quite yet.
She, Olivia, Britt, Hannah, and Mia had come here during their high school years on weekend nights when they didn’t have anything better to do, which was often. They’d usually driven here in Olivia’s Chevy Trailblazer and admired the glittering lights through the Chevy’s front windshield.
Maddie could still hear the thumping soundtrack of those years: Avril Lavigne, Rhianna, Kelly Clarkson. They’d eaten hot Cheetos and talked about the future and boys and the sports they played and clothes and makeup. The interior of the Trailblazer had smelled like PINK perfume.
The sound of Olivia’s laugh bubbled up from Maddie’s memory, surrounding her. Olivia had a wonderful laugh. She’d laughed easily and the timbre of it had been deep and genuine.
Maddie pulled on her white, knitted beret, then her gloves, and exited the car. She went to stand at the fence, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Low clouds rolled overhead. She felt closer to Olivia in this place where they’d passed so many hours together with their friends than she had in months.
“I’m so sorry,” Maddie whispered. She hadn’t known until now that that’s what she wanted to say to Olivia. Her friend’s sudden, violent death had stolen Maddie’s opportunity to say anything final to the black-haired, blue-eyed girl she’d known. The girl who’d been on student council with her. The girl who’d driven her into Seattle on Maddie’s seventeenth birthday so they could celebrate with coffee from the very first Starbucks. The girl who’d been her college roommate.
That girl had died.
And Maddie was desperately sorry that she had.
God had a plan and He was sovereign, but it still seemed unbearably unfair to Maddie that Olivia had died so young.
