“What do you want?” Mirabel asks.
“Lila Mae and I want to let it all go. And—” he looks at me “—Lizzie, we’d like to meet our grandson.”
32
@ADHemmings*noir-filtered selfie of August Dansworth in a suit with new eyeglasses*:
Almost finished withBlood Offspring. Cleaned up for a rare night out. Thoughts on the new specs? #lonelywriterlife
@BluestockingBadass:@ADHemmings Watch out, ladies, the Sex God emerges from his #writersmancave
The next evening, I’m over at Henry’s house stirring up coleslaw in the kitchen.
Through the window over the sink, I watch Henry putting chicken thighs on the grill while Lila Mae Dubose talks to him, glass of Chardonnay in hand. Frank throws a ball back and forth with Heathcliff. The game, though, has become more of a race between Heathcliff and Bonnie over who can get to the ball first. Heathcliff’s having a blast.
I should probably consider getting him a dog.
He’d love it.
Patrick calls.
“Hey!” I balance the cell phone between my cheek and shoulder as I take a bite of the coleslaw, determining it needs more sauce.
Patrick and I make small talk about my trip. I don’t tell him I went to Haworth. I don’t tell him I snogged A.D. Hemmings. Maybe I will at some point. It just feels too personal now.
“So... you know the first faculty meeting is coming up next week...”
“Yep.”
“Well, I hate to bother you about this, but Bill Rhodes is on my case. He says he still needs theFiscal Advisory Reportdata for the last academic year. He says his twenty-five reminder letters are still lying unopened in front of your office. I told him your husband just died, and he can kiss my ass.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’m resuming email again next week at 9:00 a.m. on the morning I return to campus. Everyone will have the report by 9:30 a.m.”
Patrick chuckles. “He wanted it by five o’clock tonight, but he can wait.”
“He’ll have to.”
“Are you better?”
“In a million ways. You don’t have to worry about anymore class meltdowns.”
“I’m glad you’re better. You know Elaine and I have been thinking about you a lot. We still can’t believe Philip’s gone.”
“Me neither.” I stop myself, take a breath.
Henry comes in, setting the platter of barbecue chicken on the kitchen counter.It’s Patrick...I mouth, rinsing slaw sauce off my fingers. Henry pours me a large glass of wine, smiles meaningfully and takes the bowl of chilled fruit back outside tothe patio table by the crackers and vegan cheese plate. Apparently, Frank, too, is lactose intolerant.
“I’ll let you go,” Patrick says. “But before you step back into the arena, you need to know that Bill and Evie’s ongoing war is at a take-no-prisoners level. More xeroxed letters keep ending up in our mailboxes. We still have no idea who’s doing it, but I’ll bet anything it’s the new junior faculty hire in Mathematics, Betsy Byers. Dr. Caldwell gave her such an awful time at her pre-tenure review! Anyway, details of the Caldwell-Rhodes affair continue to leak, and all I can say isewww.”
“Well, it explains why they hate each other.”
“It’s not really something we need to worry too much about. But between the humiliation and humanities budget cuts, tensions could be high next week. And there’s good old-fashioned jealousy. I emailed everyone the news that you’ve signed another movie deal. Whatever happens, just remember, I’ll have your back.”
“I know you will, Patrick.”
After we hang up, I put the large serving spoon in the coleslaw bowl. Henry helps Heathcliff wash his hands before dinner. I look out the kitchen sink window at the back deck patio table, citronella candles glowing in the center. Bonnie sniffs around Henry’s rows of box gardens. Frank and Lila Mae sit at the patio table, her hand in his. I take a moment and then let out a long breath of gratitude.
After loss, there can still be an evening like this.
