You don’t even know me.
It was odd, looking back. We usually indulged each other’s fantasies with few exceptions. At the time I thought he meant that we hadn’t seen each other enough in person, which was undoubtedly true.
Now, I knew it must have been Daniel. And he was exactly right.
That’s what the honeymoon is for...
At the time, I shut off my computer and went to bed. And the next day, he sent an audio file ofChapel of Loveand we carried on as usual. Now I couldn’t help wondering what might have happened if I’d asked him to explain himself that night.Howdidn’t I know him?
If I had pressed him, would he have told me everything I didn’t know?
18
Grace’s business card was thick and grainy to the touch.
I had been holding it for the last ten minutes, looking at every detail and trying to decide if I should call her. The card had a small picture of a bright green tree filled with birds on it. Adorable. Next to the tree were the words “Greener Pastures,” and then the name “Grace Ware,” along with her contact information. On the back, in the lower left corner, it said, “Made with soy and vegetable inks. Chemical-free processing.”
“Oh, thank God. Vegetable inks,” I said to no one.
Then I dialed the number and held my breath.
“Grace with Greener Pastures,” she answered right away.
Her voice left me momentarily stunned.
“Um...”
“Are you trying to reach Greener Pastures, miss?”
“Not yet I hope,” I said.
“Tess, is that you?”
I bit my bottom lip.
“Tess?”
“What?”
“Are you there?”
“Maybe.”
I heard her exhale into the phone.
“Why are you calling, Tess?”
“You told me to.”
“I told you to call if you weren’t angry.”
I was sitting in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. He was in the grocery store, buying food for the week. I had been thinking about Jonah and Daniel, trying not to succumb to the dread when I reached into my pants pocket and her card was there.
“How do you do it?” I asked.
I looked out the windshield at the people going in and out of the store, stubbing out cigarettes, dragging their kids along. I suddenly wanted to cry for the futility of the world.
“Do what?” she said.
