Because of Mack’s history with my mother, he knew her in a way Bill didn’t. I could talk frankly without worrying Mack might discount my feelings, take her side, or accuse me of overreacting. Not that I could blame Bill for sometimes doing those things—he didn’t know all the details. I worried if he did, though, he still wouldn’t understand.
“She’ll survive,” Mack said. “She’s a fighter, like her daughter.”
“Me?” I asked.
“Aren’t you?” With a paternal smile, he nudged my ribcage with his elbow and said, “You and Davena have matching scars now. Must be the mark of someone special.”
I squeezed his forearm as a show of gratitude for his reassurance. The scar wasn’t special, and being touched by most people generallywasn’ta comfort, but no matter how tense things had gotten between my parents, Mack had always been on my side.
“Bill offered to lend her money,” I continued as Mack sat back and picked up his Cabernet. “I think it’s a bad idea. And we really don’t have it to spare, since we’re house hunting.”
“Are you?” Mack’s face brightened. “I’m so happy for you. You really are all grown up, little Liv. I still remember your first birthday—such a fabulous event your mother threw—and you, hardly able to enjoy it. She had that party for herself.”
“What’s so funny?” Davena asked when we both laughed.
“These two are looking to buy a house,” Mack said.
Bill perked up, launching into his favorite topic as of late. I let him talk about neighborhoods, comps, and interest rates, nodding at all the right times. Davena, a natural know-it-all, especially when it came to buying and selling real estate, interjected when she disagreed.
“Go easy on him,” Mack said to her, most likely noticing Bill’s frustrated sighs with each interruption. “They’re new at this.”
“Which is exactly why they need our guidance,” she pointed out. “So they don’t make the mistakes we did.”
“Mistakes?” Mack asked, leaning in to peck her on the lips between bites of hiscacio e pepe. “I’d say we did all right in the end.”
Her shoulders eased as she wiped the corner of his mouth with her thumb. “Oh, I suppose.”
I glanced over at Bill as he checked his phone and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning over to read a text from his boss.
“They want me back at the office.”
“But it’s Friday night,” I said.
“I know—it’s ridiculous. I’m sorry. I’ll stay through dessert and make it up to you tomorrow. I’ll come help out at the animal shelter.”
“Really?” I’d been volunteering there for years, and Bill had only tagged along a few times. “I’d like that,” I said, “but I’m not worried about myself.” I took his phone, set it on the dinner table, and laced our fingers the way Mack and Davena did. “I just don’t want you to burn out.”
Bill and I each looked at our hands. As with sex, it wasn’t like me to initiate intimacy. It wasn’t that I never did it or didn’t want to feel close to Bill—physical touch just wasn’t how I expressed love. Affection didn’t come naturally like it did for the couple across the table from us.
“All my hard work will pay off when we buy our new home,” Bill said, squeezing my hand. “Just stay focused on the peace and quiet we’ll get in the suburbs. It’ll be so nice to finally get out of the city.”
My palm began to sweat. I took my hand back as a busser cleared our empty dishes.Peace and quiet. It would be hard for me to adjust to that after a decade living in or near fast-paced Chicago—which I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave behind yet. It’d been our plan for a while, though. Bill had been saying for years that once he was settled at a private practice, we’d start looking for a home to raise a family. Back then, that life had sounded far off. I thought I’d be more on board when the time came. And the time was here.
Was I ready? Was I on board?
As my thirtieth birthday loomed in less than a month, I couldn’t envision for myself the things I was supposed to—a house, children, and an existence free of surprises. Lucy made no secret she was ready for that. Gretchen valued her single life too much. I landed somewhere in the middle, so maybe I was just transitioning. Whynottry to get excited about what was ahead of us?
Bill worked hard and deserved a spacious home in a calm neighborhood like he wanted. Picturing that life didn’t exactly send my heart racing, but maybe that was the point. Settling down was just that—building a life on a firm, solid foundation. Wasn’t that one of the things I loved most about Bill, the fact that he brought a sense of normalcy back to my life that my parents had taken away years ago?
Maybe I didn’t feel ready, but I’d get there soon enough.
3
Lucy and Andrew’s pristine River North apartment proved the perfect backdrop for their upscale friends. Snow-white plush carpet spanned the living room where guests congregated. Large windows framed Chicago’s dotted cityscape and starless sky while dim lighting illuminated the overstuffed cream leather couches, a glowing fireplace, and abstract art. As I crossed the living room to where Gretchen stood alone at a makeshift bar, I idly wondered how Lucy seemed to repel mess.
My heels steadied as I stepped from carpet to white oak hardwood. Gretchen set her elbows on the bar to smile at a cute, young bartender. “Cosmo, please,” she said.
