I covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry. I should have known she would have picked up on that, I couldn’t help myself. Mrs. McDonald is a see-you-next-Tuesday.”
Adam chuckled.
“She’s a cunt,” I clarified.
“I know whatsee you next Tuesdaymeans.”
“Okay, well, I just didn’t want it to get lost in translation.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “You always know how to make me feel better, even when it’s the worst shit.”
“Glad to be of service.” I grinned and dipped my head pretending to curtsey, happy I could lighten the mood, even if it was with the language I’d worked so hard to clean up.
His smile dropped, and the energy between us shifted. It crackled with electricity. The same sparks that were always there whenever we were in a hundred yards of one another. They were easier to ignore when we were with the twins, they acted as tiny little chaperones, but when the girls weren’t with us, when it was just the two of us, well, we saw what happened.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood and every cell in my body was singing with life. The atmosphere around us felt like a pressure cooker. It grew thicker and thicker, until I couldn’t take sitting in it any longer.
As if we’d choreographed it, Adam and I stood at the same time. He turned towards the door, and we were just a few inches apart. I had to tilt my chin up to see him.
“The girls are really going to miss you.” His voice was deep, raspy and it washed over my body like a cool breeze on a hot summer day causing goosebumps to rise on my bare skin.
“I’m going to miss them, too.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth and a tingle spread through me from head to toe in anticipation. I felt the heat of his breath as his head lowered himself closer to me. My eyes automatically closed, and I expected to feel his lips on mine when I heard, “Goodnight, Billie.”
When I opened my eyes, I saw his retreating back. I watched as he walked out of the room while disappointment and relief intermingled and overwhelmed me in equal parts. It was better this way, not to get physical again. I knew that. But did I wish I was standing there kissing Adam right now instead of going to bed alone like I would be doing for the foreseeable future? Yes. Yes, I did.
38
ADAM
One week after Billie left,our dinner routine had grown into something of a ritual, with each of us assigned a specialized role. I’d chosen spaghetti for the night. Andi was the appointed garlic bread spreader, I mixed the butter, garlic, parsley, and salt together, and she spread it out over a half a French loaf, it went in the oven and then we took it out the final two minutes and added cheese to the top before she cut it. Joey was in charge of the salad, she washed the lettuce, cherry tomatoes, and cut the cucumber and bell peppers. I surrendered the Bluetooth speaker to the girls, and now the vocal stylings of Dua Lipa filled the kitchen.
They both took turns recapping their day at school, but their stories always looped back to Billie in some way. “Ms. McDonald says we get four tickets to our spring concert in two weeks,” Joey announced. “Can Billie come? Can she wear her sparkly jacket?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, giving the noodles a stir and trying to keep my voice neutral. “It depends if she’s busy at work.”
I doubted Mrs. McDonald wanted to see Billie again. Not after their last encounter. But I knew how much it would mean to the girls if she went. I hadn’t spoken to Billie since she movedout. Even though I knew it was for the best, it was killing me. I actually felt weaker. More tired. Not because of the girls. They were no problem at all.
Especially compared to Luke and Leo next door. Those boys were wild. Joey and Andi would color for hours, or make charm bracelets, or read. They were angels. The boys never sat still. They were supercharged humans.
My exhaustion was emotional. I missed Billie. It felt like a part of me was missing. She was my other half. My phantom limb. I didn’t feel whole when she wasn’t around.
The first few days she was gone, I honestly thought I’d come down with the flu. My body ached. I had headaches. I wanted to be in bed. I had zero appetite. I even had them run blood work at physical therapy because I didn’t want to spread anything if I was contagious. But nothing was wrong with me, physically. It was all in my head. I felt like I was going through withdrawal symptoms. Iwasgoing through withdrawal symptoms. Billie Bliss withdrawal.
So the best thing to do was to go cold turkey. No contact.
Andi piped up from the kitchen table, where she was lining up Parmesan cheese shavings in neat, mouse-sized piles. “Maybe she can come to the conservatory with us on our field trip.”
“We’ll have to see.” I was fully aware of how evasive I sounded, I just wasn’t sure I should tell them she wasn’t going to be around anymore, at least not like they wanted. They didn’t have an all-access pass to her, not after they’d already lost so much.
“Can we FaceTime her tonight?” Joey asked. She’d abandoned her cutting board post and was now standing directly at my elbow, peering at the sauce.
“Not tonight, she’s working.” It was the excuse I’d made up four nights in a row. I was going to have to come up withsomething else soon, which would probably be having an honest conversation with them.
But not tonight. I could put it off for another day. Or two.
Dinnertime was more of the same, a minefield of Billie references. Could we cook her zoodle recipe tomorrow? Could we watch her favorite movie? What was her favorite movie? Wasn’t it funny how she pronounced toilet, toe-let? Didn’t she look like a real life Barbie doll? By dessert, the ache in my chest had sharpened from longing to something closer to grief.
