Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [110]
Joe tried like hell to smile.
“Who is it?” Tina called out from somewhere inside the house.
“You won't believe it,” Henry said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Henry?” she yelled again. “Who is it?”
Henry stepped back. A watery smile spilled across his face, wrinkled his cheeks. “He's home, Mother,” he yelled. Then, softly, he said it again, his eyes filling with tears. “He's home.”
“Are you sure this is tequila? It tastes like lighter fluid.” Meghann heard the sloppy slur in her voice. She was past tipsy now, barreling toward plastered, and it felt good.
“It's expensive tequila. Only the best for my friend.” Elizabeth leaned sideways for a piece of pizza. As she pulled it toward her, the cheese and topping slid off, landing in a gooey heap on the concrete deck. “Oops.”
“Don't worry 'bout it.” Meghann scooped up the mess and threw it overboard. “Pro'ly just killed a tourist.”
“Are you kidding? It's ten o'clock. Seattle is empty.”
“That's true.”
Elizabeth took a bite of her crust. “So what's the problem, kiddo? Your messages lately sounded depressed. And you don't usually cry when I show up.”
“Let me see, I hate my job. My client's husband tried to shoot me after I ruined him. My sister married a country singer who happens to be a felon.” She looked up. “Shall I go on?”
“Please.”
“I baby-sat my niece when Claire went on her honeymoon and now my house feels obscenely quiet. And I met this guy. . . .”
Elizabeth slowly put down the pizza.
Meghann looked at her best friend, feeling a sudden wave of helplessness. Softly, she dared to say, “There's something wrong with me, Birdie. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and my cheeks are wet. I don't even know why I'm crying.”
“Are you lonely yet?”
“What do you mean, yet?”
“Come on, Meg. We've been friends for more than twenty years. I remember when you were a quiet, way-too-young freshman at the UW. One of those genius kids who everyone believes will either kill themselves or cure cancer. You used to cry every night back then. My bed was next to yours on the sleeping porch, remember? It broke my heart, how quietly you cried.”
“Is that why you started walking to class with me?”
“I wanted to take care of you—it's what we Southern women do, don't you know? I waited years for you to tell me why you cried.”
“When did I stop? Crying, I mean.”
“Junior year. By then, it was too late to ask. When you married Eric, I thought—I hoped—you'd finally be happy.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“I've waited for you to meet someone else, try again.”
Meghann poured two more straight shots. Downing hers, she leaned back against the railing. Cool night air ruffled the fine hairs around her face. The sound of traffic drifted toward her. “I have . . . met someone.”
“What's his name?”
“Joe. I don't even know his last name. How pathetic is that?”
“I thought you liked sex with strangers.”
Meghann heard how hard Elizabeth was trying not to sound judgmental. “I like being in control and waking up alone and having my life exactly the way I want it.”
“So what's the problem?”
Meghann felt that wave again, the feeling of being sucked under a heavy current. “Being in control . . . and waking up alone and having my life exactly the way I want it.”
“So this Joe made you feel something.”
“Maybe.”
“I assume you haven't seen him since you realized that.”
“Am I so obvious?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Just a little. This Joe scared you, so you ran. Tell me I'm wrong.”
“You're a bitch, how's that?”
“A bitch who's right-on.”
“Yeah. That kind of bitch. The worst kind.”
“Do you remember my birthday last year?”
“Everything up until the third martini. After that, it gets fuzzy.”
“I told you I didn't know if I loved Jack anymore. You told me to stay with him. Mentioned something about me losing everything and him marrying the salad-bar girl from Hooters.”
Meghann