“What’s Chris doing?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. He usuallygoes to see his folks in San Diego. But maybe not this year.”
“So, you two are talking?”
“Just texting.”
“But not back together?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I told you, I don’t know. I’m noteven that angry with him anymore.”
Liz takes a sip of her tea beforeshe speaks again. “Do you miss him?”
I nod.
“Then what are you waitingfor?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“No, I don’t!” I’m gettingagitated. There’s pressure rising in my neck and shoulders.
“Roxie,” Liz says softly. “Yes,you do.”
I sigh. God, it’s so annoying tobe known this well. “You’re right. I do. It just feels ridiculousto say it out loud.”
Liz smiles. “Look, it’s just me.How much time did you spend listening to me when Joe and I firstgot together?”
“A lot.” I move my hands apart toindicate a large amount. “A lot,” I tease, but I’m notwrong.
“So how will I ever pay you backif you don’t dish now?”
“All right, all right.” I sigh andput my hand up. “Just … give me a minute.”
I slide my finger along the rim ofmy mug. Watching the steam escape, wispy and winding, helps megather my thoughts. I know what I have to say, what I needto say, but the very thought of putting it out there makes it somuch harder than I thought it would be.
Liz gives me all the time I need,our silence softened by the sounds of sips and swallows.
Here goes nothing.
“To be honest,” I say, “when wehad that big fight and everything blew up, a small part of me wasrelieved.”
Liz’s eyes open wide.“Relieved?”
“Relieved that I had an excuse toget out.” I feel ashamed at the admission. “Yeah. I know how itsounds.”
“So, you really … don’twant to be with Chris?” Liz sounds tentative, holding the steamingtea near her lips.
“That’s it—I don’t really know. Itwould be just so easy to … not.”
“It doesn’t seem like it’s beeneasy for you.”
My eyes are fixed on my mugbecause I can’t stand to meet Liz’s gaze.