The last secret_ a novel - Mary McGarry Morris [90]
She closes her eyes and forces herself to stand there.
inally,” Nora says. She and Kay are having dinner at Chesley's. In the past few weeks Kay has left the same message with every call: “I miss you. Call me and we'll meet for lunch or dinner or something. Please.” Nora would want to, but as with most obligations lately, she never seems to follow through.
Kay pours more wine, Nora's second glass. Nora almost feels relaxed. She's missed the intimacy of this, having someone to talk to, another woman. Lately, her conversations are all work-related or with the family. She's either trying hard to be happy or trying hard not to be hurt, angry, suspicious. At least with Kay she can be herself. Their long friendship has been a haven, the one safe place she can let down her hair without fear of betrayal or judgment. All their ups and downs, they've shared a lot through the years, though most of the rough spots have been Kay's, she realizes. Poor Kay, she hasn't had an easy life at times, not compared to her own. Until now, anyway.
“When you didn't call, I began to wonder,” Kay says.
As Kay speaks, Nora's smile freezes with a sudden deadening chill. So why didn't you tell me about the affair? Because you enjoyed it, enjoyed watching my so-called perfect life being undermined; admit it, you did, didn't you? Like the rest of them, gloating behind your false concern. Oh, poor Nora, you must be so devastated, all the while thinking, so, the fairy tale's finally over. She traces her finger around the top of her glass. She can't think like this, can't keep letting herself be consumed by bitterness and fear. And dread, the worm in her soul. On her way here tonight she made up her mind to tell Kay about Eddie Hawkins. She needs to confide in someone, tell how the man screamed, begging for the savage blows to stop and what did she do? Nothing. She ran. As bad as him, as guilty, blood money to make him go away, her life in turmoil, in the end it all comes home to roost, the bad you do, the pain you cause, the lies you tell, came her mother's warning as she sat up with a start at two in the morning, wind howling, security lights on. Ken wasn't in bed. Hearing voices, she ran downstairs, convinced Eddie Hawkins was in the house, but it was only the television. Unable to sleep, Ken had gone downstairs.
“Tell you the truth,” Kay confesses, “I was afraid you were mad at me.”
“Of course not.” Nora manages a weak smile.
“We've been friends for so long, that sometimes—”
“It's okay,” she interrupts. “It's just me, that's all. You know how I get.” She shrugs. “Awfully hung up on things.”
“That's only natural. Of course. Especially when something bad happens. It changes everything, our whole perspective. All of a sudden it's a different life. Or seems like one, anyway.”
“I know. The worst is always being so suspicious. Of everything. Even now with you … I mean, here you are being so kind, and the whole time my head's filled with all these … these dark thoughts.”
“About me?” Kay says with a little gasp.
Nora nods. “Part of me's a little crazy. Gets scary sometimes.”
“Why? Is it Ken? Did he—”
“Have you ever thought about something so much, tried so hard to figure out exactly what happened, gone over and over it so many times that after a while you're not sure of anything anymore?”
“What do you mean?” Kay stiffens back in her chair.
“I've never told anyone this before, but lately I get so scared. I think I'm … I mean … do you think I could hurt someone? Really hurt them? I mean, physically. Hit them. Smash their face in.”
“No! Not in a million years. You're not like that. Why?” Kay leans closer. “Are you afraid that you might?”
“That maybe I did.”
“To who?” Kay looks shocked.
“That's the thing, I don't even know, it's all such a mess.”
“What is?”
“This dream, I keep having it.” Wide-eyed, she shakes her head. Can't bring herself to say it, to make Kay a permanent reminder of her shame. She looks down.
“Hey.” Kay pats her hand. “It's going to be okay. Really.”
“There's just so much going on.” She takes