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Rebecca shook her head while the bottom dropped out beneath her. Someone, maybe Dave, placed his hand on her shoulder to hold her in place. Chance and Billy approached, and the lead hostess scrambled up behind them, sobbing tears that didn’t belong to her.
“Honey.” Rebecca heard her own voice as she reached out to take the lead hostess by the shoulder. “You should really go home tonight, okay? Before the roads get too bad.”
The hostess quivered and stared at Rebecca as though Rebecca was the craziest woman on earth. Rebecca would soon learn that once the world labeled you as pitiable, it no longer respected you. Once the world labeled you as a widow, it did everything it could to pretend it didn’t look down on you, even as it did. You were no longer a part of the story; yours remained in the past.
Chapter Two
Five Months Later
Lily’s apartment building a few blocks from Columbia University was a minefield of memories. Rebecca hadn’t expected that. It was unfair, really, as she and Fred had spent little more than a few hours here in total. What had they done there, really? They’d helped Lily unpack, set up her Wi-Fi, and tried to impart the last of their wisdom before sending her back into the world untethered. Nothing too emotional. Nothing too enormous. But as Rebecca entered the apartment building to pick Lily up on the last day of the semester, memories tore through her—of Fred carrying boxes, Fred making jokes, Fred eating M&Ms from a vending machine as Lily and Rebecca argued about how short her skirt was.
“This is Columbia! Not a bar!”
“Mom, don’t shame me!”
Rebecca had to disappear into the bathroom to clean herself up before she faced her daughter. Lily had to think Rebecca was doing better because Rebecca had to be the brave face of their family.
Lily’s apartment door was open. Inside, Lily and her roommate chatted in low and bored tones about a guy who’d been “so annoying” at a party. Rebecca tried to remember how long it had taken her to stop acting cool in front of her friends and start acting like herself.
“Hi! Is anyone home?” Rebecca knocked, and the two of them bounced from the couch and greeted her with perfumed hugs. It was the same perfume, as though they’d just sprayed it a few minutes before.
Lily had already packed her suitcases. She looked tanned and healthy and hugged her roommate three times before Rebecca could convince her to go. Lily’s eyes welled with tears as they loaded the suitcases in the back of the SUV and fought through traffic. A beautiful spring sun shimmered upon them, a little hotter than normal at eighty-two degrees. It was hard to believe it was over.
“How did finals go?” Rebecca asked, imagining herself as a normal mother who picked up her normal daughter after a very normal semester.
“Oh, fine. History was the toughest because it was all essays. English was fine. We had two weeks to finish a fifteen-page paper on Jane Austen.”
“You must have loved that,” Rebecca said.
Lily glanced at her mother. In the past five months, she’d matured slightly. There was a sorrow in her eyes that had almost completely robbed Rebecca of her very first little girl. Grief did that to you. It took everything you had.
“But how are you doing?” Lily demanded.
Rebecca wasn’t sure how to answer. So many people asked her that question every week that she’d developed canned responses. But could she lie to her daughter? Then again, wasn’t lying a part of her campaign to show a brave face?
Instead of answering, she said, “In two weeks, Mindy Collins wants me to open the restaurant for one night only.”
Lily frowned. “Why?”
“As a fundraiser for our family.” Rebecca hated how her voice wavered.
“Mom? Do we need money?”
“It’s not so bad,” Rebecca tried to explain. “But obviously, we don’t have the income we used to have.”
“Mom, you can’t do this,” Lily said.
Rebecca stiffened. At the next stoplight, she turned to look at her daughter. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you haven’t stepped foot in that restaurant in months. Won’t it be too painful to go in there without Dad?”
Rebecca had, of course, considered this. Each time she lifted the phone to tell Mindy the deal was off, Fred’s voice entered her head, teasing her for how silly she was. “What are you afraid of? That my ghost is there, waiting for you? Come on, Rebecca. You’re a big girl. What’s more, you were put on this earth to cook, weren’t you? Get out there and show them what you’re made of!”
Shelby and Chad were both at home to welcome Lily. Shelby had baked a cake, which Chad had attempted to decorate with the logo for Columbia University.
“I guess we know who’s not going into art,” Shelby joked.
“There are wonderful bakers who could never be pastry chefs,” Rebecca reminded them. “Aesthetics aren’t everyone’s goal. And, if I’m not mistaken, this icing tastes delicious.” She swiped the edge of her finger against the side of the cake as her children yelped in protest. When she tasted it, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Yep. It’s great. Wonderful work, my darlings.”
