Sure there’s nowhere to go and I’m going to spend the afternoon sitting in my car, I suddenly remember Kelsey gave me her phone number. Maybe she won’t mind me meeting me somewhere.
I text her and sit back in the driver’s seat, my eyes closed while I wait for her to text back. Thankfully, she only takes a few minutes and suggests a different coffee shop than my usual one close to her house. A quick glance at the name and her directions and I’m ready to go.
As I drive down my street, Anthony Ricci stands on his porch putting up his American flag, and I instinctively wave like I always do. I watch as he turns away without returning the wave, my stomach sick over it. When his sister came to visit him last summer and wanted to see the area, I was more than happy to chauffeur her around for an entire day while he spent time with his brother-in-law. I was good enough to be his friend then, but now it seems I’m not even worth a tiny wave.
So much for the HOA’s motto: Many neighbors, one big welcoming community. I guess that’s just lip service to make potential homeowners think the people here are nice. Nobody better ask me to contribute to a damn thing for the next community day.
I stew about Anthony and that ridiculous HOA the whole way to Cuppa Cuppa, the coffee shop near where Kelsey lives. I’ve seen this place once or twice, but because it’s out of the way on my usual drive, I’ve never stopped here.
God, I hope nobody from gymnastics or from my neighborhood is here.
As I walk toward the door, I think to myself that I’ve never been this nervous walking into any place before. This is what my life has turned into. Now I’m someone who worries wherever I go.
I hold my breath in anticipation of who I might see inside, but when I walk in and see only Kelsey sitting at a table in the back, I let out a heavy sigh of relief. Hurrying back to join her, I collapse in a chair on the opposite side of where she’s seated.
“Hey, are you okay? You looked like you were going to be sick when you were standing up near the door,” she says sweetly.
Nodding, I force a smile. “Rough day. I’ll be okay once I get something in my stomach. How’s the coffee here? Any suggestions for me? I’ve never been here.”
Kelsey gives me a broad smile. “Oh, it’s pretty good. About the same as the other place. The scones are even better here, so don’t miss out on them.”
I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly before standing up. “Okay, need anything while I’m up there?”
She waves me off and shakes her head. “No, I’m good. I’ll be here.”
Five minutes later, I return to our table with my large, iced coffee and a cranberry-orange scone heated with butter. Kelsey points at it and smiles.
“I’m so glad you’re not having to eat dry scones anymore. The cranberry scones here are to die for!”
The moment I hear that word die I cringe. I don’t mean to, but hearing anything about death today is too much for me.
“Everything okay, Jamie? Didn’t you want to get a scone?”
All of a sudden, I can barely contain my emotions. I want to scream and then cry and then have someone take me in their arms and give me the biggest hug I’ve ever had. Tears stream down my cheeks, and before I know it, I’m in a full-blown meltdown.
Kelsey reaches across the table and gives my forearm a gentle squeeze. “Jamie, honey, what’s happening? This can’t be about the scone.”
God, now I’m truly losing it in a coffee shop. I don’t know if I can take much more of this.
I dry my eyes and compose myself before I lean closer to her and whisper, “I’m sorry. This whole thing with Connor is wearing on me. I didn’t mean to break down like that.”
Concern fills her eyes. “Has anything happened? The last time we spoke, you were worried about the gun that killed the man being your husband’s. Did you find out something?”
The way she hits at the most crucial point strikes me as so insightful, and yet it shows Kelsey is caring because she clearlylistened to what I was saying. I’m not used to that from friends. None of the mothers at gymnastics actually listen to what anyone is saying, including me. Talking is for finding out things about people, not to hear about someone’s life.
Lowering my gaze to look at my scone with the dots of orange and red sprinkled through it, I admit the terrible truth. “He said he took his gun on the hike and that Bryan grabbed the gun out of his hand and was waving it around when he accidentally shot himself.”
The words come rushing out like they’re desperately in search of someone to understand them. When I look up, I see my new friend comprehends perfectly what I’m saying.
Before she can say a word, my emotions begin to unravel. “Oh, God! What am I going to do? My neighbors won’t even look at me. The mothers at gymnastics were whispering about me and my family, and the kids at my daughters’ school are saying their father is a murderer! It’s like you’re the only friend I have now. I don’t know what to do.”
“Shhh…it’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it is right now, but I can promise you everything will be okay. Remember, I know something about having your world crumble around you.”
Kelsey points at her cheek where the deepest scar exists, and I nod, so utterly thankful that someone understands what I’m going through. I don’t know how I got this lucky at the very time I need it most, but if I didn’t have her to talk to, I don’t know what I would do.
“How did you handle it? I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
I’ve never been that brutally honest with how I’m feeling a day in my life. I don’t know why, but something about Kelsey makes me feel like I can truly be myself.
