“She’s taking, like, a year in the bathroom,” says Natalie. Then, “Was I too harsh with her?”
“Well,” says Mae diplomatically. “That depends on your definition ofharsh.”
“Ouch.”
“I mean. You’re angry with her about being okay with the house sale. I get it. I’m angry about that too.”
“The Realtor pretty much said the next owners are going to tear it down!”
“I know. I know! I can’t believe it. I can’t even really let myself think about it or imagine it. But the stuff about when Mom was sick...Iwasn’t there as much as you were either, if we’re keeping score.”
“You live in Colorado. You took a leave of absence from your job!”
“A short one.”
Natalie can’t decide if she’s being too hard on Jordan or too easy on Mae. “Okay, okay,fine. What do I do?”
“You could start by apologizing.”
Natalie thinks about this; she thinks long and hard. Apologizing is not her favorite thing to do. “I don’t know if I’ll apologize. But I will order a round of shots, and that’s sort of the same thing.”
OfcourseSimone is sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant, and of course she looks up and sees Jordan at the same time that Jordan sees her. Simone’s face breaks into that warm, beautiful smile—summery, if a smile can be seasonal—and Jordan, who’s so angry at Natalie that she could shake her fist at the gods, if she believed in the gods, sees the smile and feels like she’s eighteen again. Unmarred. Simone is wearing a long gauzy white skirt and a fitted coral tank top. Minimal makeup, suntanned face, those freckles. This, Jordan realizes, is exactly who she wants to see at this moment. Simone.
Simone stands and hugs Jordan, introducing her to the woman she’s sitting with: “Jordan, this is Marnie, my partner.” Jordan raises her eyebrows—Marnie is at least fifteen years older than Simone, and hadn’t Simone said she was single?—and Simone hurries to say, “Mybusinesspartner. For the yoga and smoothie bar. Marnie’s taught yoga all over the Seacoast area.”
“Nice to meet you.” This Marnie does have a certain taut, flexible look to her. “I’m here with my sisters,” Jordan tells Simone. “Girls’ night out. My dad and his new wife are babysitting.”
“Fun!” says Simone.
“Well,” says Jordan, “sometimes.”
To Marnie: “Jordan has thebestsisters.”
“Sometimes,” repeats Jordan.
“You weren’t even here the last time I saw them. You were working. Did they tell you we saw each other on the beach a few years ago?” Jordan nods. Simone tells Marnie, “Jordan has the most interesting job.”
Jordan thinks about Memorial Day and about Bernadette’s hand on her leg. “Sometimes,” she says for a third time, and they all laugh. Jordan isn’t in a mood to make small talk with someone she doesn’t know, so she excuses herself to use the bathroom. Washing her hands, she looks in the mirror and replays Natalie’s words—sometimes I forget that you only have time when it suits you. How dare she. Jordan has been the older sister as long as Natalie has been alive. Natalie has no idea of the responsibilities placed on the eldest! Hold your sisters’ hands crossing the street. Help Mae with her homework. Pick up Natalie from speech and debate. Give, give, give, and who’s giving back? When she comes out, Simone is standing there.
“You okay?”
“Of course.” Jordan knows that just under the surface of the words is the truth, and if Simone were to scratch ever so gently it would be uncovered. Bernadette. Samantha Braddock. Natalie. The presence of Kara and the absence of Theresa. The Realtor. The house. Each thing is piling up on top of the next like stacking cups, and the stack is about to tumble. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“You look upset.”
“I’m fine.”
Simone laughs, not unkindly. “Classic Jordan. You always used to say you were fine even when you weren’t.” Jordan doesn’t know what to say to this, so she says nothing. “You can talk to me, you know. If you ever need an ear. I can be an ear.” This, thinks Jordan, is just what she’d been wishing for the day before, an ear! And now here’s Simone, fixing her sea-glass eyes on Jordan and offering it, her words like a jump in the ocean on a hot day.
“Natalie just got all over me for some ancient history, and I’ve got this thing with my boss... Never mind, though.” She could go on and on, but she won’t. “I shouldn’t get into it. It’s really not just-ran-into-you material.”
“I was always scared of Natalie,” Simone admits. “All the way back when she was—what was she that summer? Fifteen?Iwouldn’t have wanted to cross her.” Even if Simone is exaggerating (and she probably is), this makes Jordan feel better, like her corner is not empty. “Listen,” Simone goes on. “The offer for the ear stands, okay? I’m around.”
“Thank you.”
“Hey, I want to say hi to your sisters! Is that okay?”
“Sure,” says Jordan. “I believe they are glued to their bar seats. What about Marnie, though?”
