Ishrugged. “Jessie read a book about a leaf afraid to fall, and ultimately hadto accept its impending death, so there was that.”
“Lovely.Well, hey, it’s something to do. That’s why I come out here and pull thesefucking weeds. I feel like I do this shit every goddamn day.” She pluckedanother, using so much force that she teetered on her unsteady legs. “Gotcha, you little prick.”
Ibit back the laughter. “Youdocome out here every day—and that wasn’t aweed.”
Shewaved the piece of greenery in my face. “Then what do you call this, missy?”
Ithrew my hands in the air. “If I was a botanist, do you think I’d bebabysitting for a couple hundred bucks every two weeks? I have no idea what thehell that thing is, but I know it’s not a—”
“It’sa weed,” Esther stated flatly, ignoring the fact that her gardener had justbeen to her house days earlier. “But if you’re so smart, you should be overhere doing this for me. I don’t know how you live with yourself, knowing yourold friend Esther is over here, killing herself with these fuckingweeds.”
“Becausethey’re not weeds!” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Harry’sgoing to come over there and haunt you, if you don’t watch your mouth,” shethreatened.
“Good.I’ll tell him all about your invisible weeds.”
“Uh-huh,”she muttered, bending to peer down at another sprig of something protruding fromthe ground. It looked identical to the one hanging from her hand, but she leftit alone. “Where’s Anna? Sleeping in the car?”
Iglanced back towards the van. “Yeah, she was rudely awoken at the bookstore. Oneof the other kids thought it would be a good idea to start yelling for noreason and woke her up.”
Sheshook her head. “When I was a kid, if you pulled something like that in public,it was a hand across the face for you. And you know what? You thought beforeyou did something like that again.”
Istifled a laugh. “Well, you know, different times and all that.” She grumbledin response. “Anyway, I guess I should get her inside, but really, do you needany help? After Liz gets home, I could come over and … “
Shewaved a bony, wrinkly hand over the fence. “No, no, if I needed help, I’dask.”
“No,you wouldn’t. You’d just continue to moan about the weeds that aren’t weeds,and lay on the guilt like you always do.”
“Humph.Well, if you see me collapsed on a pile ofweeds, assume I need yourgoddamn help.”
***
Lizopened the carton of fried rice, spooning some out onto Anna’s plate and thenher own. “So,thenDr. Martin told me there was no way he could let metake my usual lunch break after that family of ten came walking in. Can youbelieve that? I had twenty minutes to myself today and then I was back in theoffice, helping this woman fill out insurance forms for eight kids.”
IfI’m being honest, I had absolutely no idea what she had been talking aboutbefore she opened the fried rice. My mind had wandered itself into memories ofdinner with Stephen, grasping at the opportunity to remind me of everything Iwas missing.
Dinnerwas our daily ritual, the one guaranteed time of day when we would meet uptogether at the apartment and cook with the radio blasting. We would makeeggplant parmesan with sauce made from scratch, and meat loaf with my ownpersonal recipe, and pot roast rubbed down with Stephen’s secret sauce. Wewould sing along with LadyGaGa, as he chopped and Isautéed, and we would dance around to Bruno Mars while we waited for the timerto announce that the barbeque ham was ready. On occasion, when there had beenmaybe a little too much wine flow, Stephen would wrap his arms around me andkiss me to the tune of Sam Smith, and if the Red Hot Chili Peppers wereplaying,forgetit. There was no keeping my hands off him, andthe lasagna would burn.
Hollyfreakin’ Hughes. Horny sous chef.
Ipushed the boneless ribs around my plate with my fork, wishing I could rememberthat one song we made love to on the kitchen counter that one time years ago. Idon’t remember ever giving any memories permission to disappear, as if theynever happened. As ifwenever happened.
“Holly,are you even listening to me?”
Myeyes shot up from my plate to see Liz staring at me, aggravation blending withconcern on her face. “Oh, right, yeah, family of ten. That sucks.”
Satisfiedwith my half-assed answer, she shrugged. “Well, I mean, it is more business forthe office. Anyway, how was your day?” She took a bite of an eggroll, restingher chin in hand, eagerly awaiting my reply, and I thought about how lonely herlife must have been before I moved in.
***
Movingfrom the city back to Long Island had been hard. Losing my job had also beenhard, and becoming a babysitter at the age of thirty-one hadn’t been a walk inthe park either. But nothing had been harder than going to sleep every nightknowing he was out there, sharing his bed with someone else, while I sharedmine with empty space.
Itwas amazing how I could get through the day without so much as a watery eye,but once I closed the door to my room and laid down for the night, my heartstill ached the way it did when he first left me. The wound opened up themoment I turned out the light, reminding me of just how sad and lonely I reallywas without my Stephen to wrap his arms around me in the darkness.
Icurled an arm around Camille, listening as she awoke from her sleep with agentle purr. Her sandpaper tongue raked across my hand and I smiled through myheartache, nuzzling my face into her fur, grateful that I at least had her. Imean, she didn’t do much for me physically, but hey, I had my vibrator forthat. And then, I found myself giggling, because well, I guess Stephen didn’tdo much for me physically either.
Actually,that wasn’t entirely true. He was an attractive man, on the higher end ofaverage with a few killer features that made him stand out. It was hiseyes—thosecomfortableeyes—and smile that really clinched the deal forme at a meeting between my magazine and his graphic design company years ago.
