“I hope you’ve realized you’ll never stop loving Philip.”
“I have. It’s just been hard to sort through all the feelings—loving someone else, feeling happiness, but also missing Philip every single fucking day.”
Asher sucks the bottle greedily. Chloe watches him, a breeze blowing a spiraling dark curl across her forehead.
“You know, Lizzie, I have to share with you my favorite word in the world. It’s a Portuguese one with no solid English translation.Saudade.The word refers to a deep longing for something gone or for someone you love who’s passed away. You ache for them and for the joy they brought you. It’s bittersweet, bundling the sadness and happiness of love together.”
Chloe reaches across Asher’s head and gently pokes my sternum. “You’ll feel the ache for Philip right there always. It’s not depression or ruin. It’s just the part of you that knots and swells because it’s only filled by him. And that’s okay to keep feeling it. You’re still going to feel love and happiness, but you’ll have to be alright with the little ache too. Just be at peace with that.”
I’m wiping tears away.
As she brings Asher up to her shoulder, gently patting his back to make him burp, she smiles at me warmly. “I love you, Lizzie. So many people do.”
After she straps Asher back in, and we start to head back from the trail, she smiles sideways at me, mischievous.
“On a lighter note, I have a little confession for you.”
“Go for it.”
“It wasn’t very priestly of me, but I just couldn’t help myself. I got so mad at Chadwick Hall’s womanizing, I started my own feminist troll account against Hemmings—BluestockingBadass.”
“BluestockingBadass wasyou?”
“Guilty.” She smiles sheepishly. “I had such a love-hate relationship with the books—I mean, I couldn’t put them down, but I also justhatethe misogyny. The silly account made me feel like a more responsible reader. I’ve deactivated it, because, well—it wasn’t nice. Jesus wouldn’t have done it. But I don’t feel so bad about it now that I know how he treated you. So there it is. I might be a priest, but I’m still human. Oh, Lizzie, do you think I’m awful?”
I smile. “I think you’re awesome.”
Two days later, Mirabel and I meet in Summerville for lunch at her favorite downtown tearoom.
It’s not the typical place I would go for a meal. In addition to tea and tiny triangle cucumber sandwiches on antique plates, lunch comes with doll-size sides of potato salad flavored withhard parsley sprigs and cracked pepper. It’s overpriced, and unsatisfying, but Mirabel says it’s the best luncheon spot on this side of the Ashley River. I’ll probably stop at a drive-through on my way home.
As Mirabel pokes at her salad with her little silver fork, one of her cap sleeves slips away to reveal a nicotine patch. She looks up at me sharply.
“Lizzie, I’ve been smoking cigarettes on the sly for years.”
“I had no idea.”
“Nobody did. It’s a bad habit, but mighty helpful when my skin crawls. I’m sure as hell tired, though, of asking Dr. Jenkins to keep whitening my teeth year after year. And as much as I don’t like it, I’m a woman of a certain age. It’s time for me to quit.”
I take a sip of hot, weak green tea.
We make small talk, about how Heathcliff’s doing now that school has started again, her four new azalea bushes, and her manicurist quitting suddenly. It’s hard to bury the tensions and threats of these past months. Conversation doesn’t exactly come easily, but we’re trying.
“I suppose Frank and Lila Mae are back in the picture now,” she says rather abruptly.
“They are. They’re really enjoying Heathcliff.”
“Well, they should. He’s a sweet boy.” She dabs the corner of her eye before lightly touching the patch. “Jesus. I could use a goddamn cigarette.”
I reach across the table, laying my hand across hers.
She sniffs, blinking away tears. “This is a hard thing I’m about to say, so listen up, Lizzie, because I’m going to say it once. I hated you for a good while. Like, really hated you. But thank you for doing what you did. In the end, it was the right thing to do.”
34
I’d just picked up my burger on the way back from lunch with Mirabel, enjoying the satisfying flavor of meat and mayonnaise, when Sarah calls.
“Your director bailed.”
