A Wedding in December_ A Novel - Anita Shreve [85]
“Not likely.”
“The boys were looking forward to it. They’ve been listening to me rave about our old team for weeks. I’m afraid you and Jerry and Rob have taken on the status of icons.”
Harrison laughed.
“I’m serious. You’ll have to sign a couple of the balls I brought for Matt and Brian.”
“Sure,” Harrison said. “I’ll sign ‘Nomar.’”
“Bridget’s doing amazingly well,” Bill said, spearing a strawberry. “They say the worse the chemo, the better the result. It was brutal watching her go through it, though. I kept wishing it was me instead.”
Harrison sat back in his chair. “Billy Ricci. I honestly think that might be the definition of true love.”
“Years from now, people will look back upon chemotherapy as barbaric, inhumane, a legalized form of torture. At best, as misguided medicine.”
“Leeches,” Harrison said.
“Worse. But each day, I see more and more of her strength returning.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, she’s fine.” Bill paused. “Really fine.”
And Harrison heard in the second repetition a chink in the bravado, a man reminding himself to be optimistic. Bill poured half a pitcher of heavy cream over the berries and sprinkled them with sugar.
“Some diet,” Harrison said as he watched Bill tuck into the berries.
“I was worried you’d be upset about Jill and Melissa.”
“One always thinks about the kids first. I can’t say I was all that fond of Jill.”
Bill hitched himself forward in his chair. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. It’s a little disconcerting to find out after the fact that no one liked the woman you were married to.”
“It’s not that so much,” Harrison said. “I just didn’t think the two of you were a good fit.” Harrison watched another couple take a table not far from theirs. Both the man and the woman appeared to be slightly fogged, and Harrison guessed that they, too, might have had too much to drink the night before. Perhaps they belonged to the other wedding party.
Bill took a long sip of coffee. “How’s Evelyn?”
Harrison had the sense that Bill’s question was more polite than curious. “Evelyn’s very well,” Harrison said. “She has a huge case coming up. Otherwise, she’d be here.”
“What about?”
“The case? Greed and human frailty.”
Bill smiled. “Thanks for making the trip down for the wedding.”
“Actually, I think the direction is over, but I’m glad to be here.”
“I always think of Canada as up. This whole thing is a little weird, isn’t it? Jerry? Agnes? Rob?”
“Very weird,” Harrison said. “There’s some trick of time and memory at work here that I haven’t quite figured out yet.”
“And Nora.”
“And Nora,” Harrison said.
“She’s been great with Bridget. God, B’s been through some tough times, and not just the cancer. With her ex-husband leaving her and now trying to raise a fifteen-year-old. Matt’s a good kid, but, you know, he’s fifteen.”
Harrison nodded.
“I feel so lucky,” Bill said.
Harrison looked up from his muffin. He pondered the bad luck of marrying a woman with advanced cancer.
“Finding Bridget again,” Bill explained. “I very nearly didn’t go to that reunion. I can’t imagine life now if I hadn’t gone.”
“The things that don’t happen to us that we’ll never know didn’t happen to us,” Harrison said.
“The nonstories.”
“The extra minute to find the briefcase that makes you late to the spot where a tractor trailer mauled another car instead of yours.” Harrison took a bite of buttery muffin and thought about his next cholesterol test.
“The woman you didn’t meet because she couldn’t get a taxi to the party you had to leave early from,” Bill added. “All of life is a series of nonstories if you look at it that way.”
“We just don’t know what they are,” Harrison said.
Bill scraped the sweet cream from the sides of his bowl. “Melissa won’t be at the wedding.”
“So I heard,” Harrison said.
“Why does everything have to be so complicated?” Bill asked. “When I’m with Bridget, I have no doubt I did the right