Elleoffered a sad smile. “I am, too. I’m really gonna miss you.”
Sighing,I nodded and stared out into the atrium, spotting the ghost of a young manfollowing a doctor. “I’ll miss you, too. I’m going to miss everything about thisplace, but ...” I turned back to her and smiled. “I really need to focus ongetting my head on straight, you know?”
“Iget it. I do. It’s just ...” She released a deep, melancholic sigh. “Lunchtimeisn’t going to be the same.”
Ilaughed, choking back the threat of emotion. “I’ll come and visit.”
Shelaughed with me, dabbing beneath her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. “Girl,you better!”
Then,she asked, “What made you do it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Lookingdown at the cold cup of coffee in my hand, I shrugged and said, “I was justlooking for an escape.”
“But... from what?” She laughed again, a bit uneasily this time, and added, “I’msorry. It’s none of my business, and I am not judging you, I swear. It’s just... you seem like you have it all together, you know? You live in a gorgeoushouse, and yeah, you live with your parents, but that’s not so bad. You’rebeautiful. You’re smart. You’re funny. You recently married this guy who isabsolutely gorgeous, and he has his demons, I get that now, but ... I justdon’t understand, and I wish I did.”
Foryears, I had kept myself in the dark with my secret and its burdening static,out of fear of what others might think. But now, after my brief and harrowingstint with addiction, I knew what a true burden was. I now understood what itwas truly like to be controlled by something against my will, and this abilitywasn’t it. After years of living in the dark, I was suddenly ready to turn onthe light.
So,I turned to my friend and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
ANDREA
Toomany months had passed since I'd last seen or heard from Vinnie. Now, it waswinter and just a week before Christmas.
Iwas sad.
Ithought about the apartment and wondered if he had decorated. I thought aboutwhat our tree might have looked like and wondered who's house we would havecelebrated at. But mostly, I just thought about him and wondered if he wasokay.
Myfather had been right in insisting I keep my distance from him. We were fireand gasoline, and together, we could set our world ablaze. There would be norecovery while even one of us was still using, but knowing this didn't stop thecrack in my chest from pulsing with the ache of missing him. His voice. Hislaugh. The taste of nicotine on his tongue. God, how I ached, knowing forcertain that this was the worst withdrawal I could ever experience. Knowingthat he was the drug I would never recover from. And I didn't even know if hewas still alive.
“She'skilling me,” Mer muttered, as she rolled out the cookie dough.
“Comeon, Andrea. Smile.” Willa poked me in the cheek with the end of a spoon,covered in sticky, gooey dough.
Ibatted her away and wiped at my cheek. “Get out of here.” Mer threw a sprinkleof flour my way, dusting my hair and red sweater. “Mom! Make them stop!”
Momdidn't even bother to glance up from her cookie sheet as she mumbled, “Girls,stop trying to make your sister smile.”
Stickingmy tongue out defiantly, I set back to work, balling up the sugar cookie doughand dropping the little mounds onto my tray. I thought about Vinnie and howmuch I would have loved having him here, with his arms around my waist and hisbreath against my ear, as he watched me partake in the annual tradition ofbaking Christmas cookies.
“Seriouslythough, Andrea,” Willa whined, pressing candies into her batch of oatmealbutterscotch chip. “We know you're sad and you're going through a lot, andreally, we sympathize with it. But sometimes, the best thing you can do is justto decide that, you know what, today, I'm going to have a good day.”
“Peoplewho choose to be sad will never find the power to choose happiness,” Mer chimedin, sounding like she was reading from a cue card. Willa, Mom, and I all turnedto look at her and she shrugged. “I dunno, I saw it on Instagram.”
“Well,it's freakin' lame,” Willa murmured. “But, you know, there is some truth toit.”
Mymouth remained shut as I went to the oven with my full sheet of cookies-to-beand slid it in. As I closed the door and set the timer, I wished they'd justlet me fantasize about my husband and the Christmas we should've had in peace.
“Maybeyou should go on a date,” Mer suggested slyly.
Thathad my attention. “Uh, what?”
Sheshrugged. “I'm just saying—”
“I'mmarried!”
Sheand Willa exchanged a look that could only mean one thing: they didn't take mymarriage seriously. And that hurt.
