I make another attempt to get to the bar when she places her hand on my arm. “I demand to know how you got into this party.”
“Iinvited her.” I turn in time to see the woman who’d called me at work last Monday. Sonia Andreesen.
“You? Why? Why in the world would you inviteher?”
Sonia ignores Monica, instead turning to me, “Love your dress. I saw that at Saks the other day.”
“It’s Kate somebody or other.” I fidget with my hands, running them down the front of the dress.
“Kate Spade, I think.” Sonia smiles.
“Yes.” I smile. “Right.”
The three of us are silent until Bonnie approaches holding two large fruity cocktails. Handing me one, she says, “Strawberry daiquiris for courage.” Then she taps her glass against mine, and I laugh. “Thanks, Bonnie.”
Turning to Sonia, I introduce the pair. “Sonia, this is my best friend, Bonnie.” Looking over at a scowling Monica, I do the polite thing and say, “Bonnie, this is Monica, Hudson’s friend.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sonia.” She faces Monica and says nice words, but her tone says otherwise, “It’s nice to meet you too, Monica.”
“I can’t believe you invited these––” Monica flaps her hand at both of us like we’re flies at a picnic.
“Commoners?” I mean, that probably wasn’t the word she was going for, but with the way her nose was pointed up in the air like a queen, it fits.
“If the shoe fits.” She snaps. Then she looks at my shoes. They’re the same brown sandals I wore to the garden party as last weekend.
“Unbelievable.”
Bonnie sips her drink, listening to Monica and I go back and forth until, apparently, she’s had enough. “You’re kind of a bitch, aren’t you, Monica?” God, I love Bonnie.
“You could say that.” Sonia says with a straight face.
Monica’s face is beet red. Bonnie’s words work because Monica spins on her sky-high stilettos and leaves, finally. I watch her for a second, long enough to see her march right up to Hudson’s mom. Awesome. I’m not sure I can handle both Monica and Mrs. Adler today.
No matter. I have no reason to be concerned. Hudson and me, well, it was fun while it lasted, but the fake relationship ran its course. He helped me, and I helped him. That’s it. Nothing more.
Then why do I feel like my life is circling down into the toilet? Ever since he left my apartment last weekend, I’ve been down in the dumps—more so than usual. His “Happy-Go-Lucky” Willa has left the building. Hell, she’s left the city. The state. Maybe even the country.
Ooh. If I could leave the country, I’d go to France.
I return to the current day when Bonnie says, “Sonia, your home is amazing.”
“Oh, this isn’t ours. It’s my in-laws. We live in Andersonville.”
Bonnie is on board. “That’s not far from Willa.”
I nod because she’s right. In terms of Chicago neighborhoods, we’re what you’d call adjacent.
“Thank you for coming, Willa. I know how hard this must be for you.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad to finally meet you and the girls.”
“Your dad––” Sonia’s eyes start to get glassy. “I’ll never be able to repay him or you or your mom.”
Sonia and her daughters were the people my dad saved that day.
Her parents must have mentioned our meeting at the garden party last weekend because she called me at work last week, inviting me to her daughter’s sixth birthday party so we could meet in person. She told me that she’s tried to reach my mom over the last year, but the number was disconnected. Sonia also told me she attended the funeral, but there were so many people there that she wasn’t able to speak to us then either. It’s true. Every police officer in the city attended his service. The streets were filled with officers.
“I’ve had nightmares about that day.”
