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It was Andy. “Hey there,” I said.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just grocery shopping.”
“How was your date last night?”
“I . . . it didn’t work out. I wouldn’t say I got your heebie-jeebies, but I got a bad vibe from him while we were making out. He called me a man-hating bitch, though!”
“A-plus, my friend!” Andy said.
“How are you?”
“Eh. Just dealing with stuff.”
“Your headaches?”
“Gone. Been a while. I figured out what was causing them.”
“Not a tumor?”
“No. Not a tumor.”
A moment of silence. It had been like this for a few weeks. Awkward silences that we filled with lies and half truths. We were best friends and something had been happening over the last few weeks. I grabbed more food as I walked along the store.
“You know my boss?”
“Which boss? Didn’t you change jobs a few weeks ago?” Andy asked.
“The scientist. You know how your mom would talk about aliens? So, he says his sensors may have detected a UFO. He’s so excited,” I said.
She sighed loudly. “It’s probably a weather balloon.”
“You sound like the government.”
“I . . . shit. It’s . . . aliens aren’t real.” She was hiding something. Why were all our conversations like this nowadays?
I strangled a laugh. “Your mom always said they existed. I was supposed to make sure you never forget that.”
“I . . . my mom didn’t tell you or me everything, Chloe. It’s complicated.” Sadness was dripping in her voice.
“Are you okay wherever you are? You sound just as sad as you did when your mom passed.” I turned toward the registers.
Another sigh on the line. “I am just going through some stuff. It’s a lot. It’s stressful. I?—”
“You know it wouldn’t be so hard if you opened up to me.”
“It’s—”
“Anyway,” I said. The beeps of the register filled the long pause on both sides of our conversation. “How’s the mafia work thing?”
“That reminds me, have you texted Ric?” Theksound at the end was exaggerated, like she was trying to stop herself from saying something. The total flashed on the screen and I dug out my debit card.
Now,I’mlying to her. “No, I haven’t texted him lately. Last call we had, he said that he was making something.”
“Yeah, yeah. He’s an engineering wiz. Talented up the wazoo.”
“You sound distracted?”
