In this small pocket of opportunity, Claire slips away.
She catches Jackie’s arm near the side of the house, pulling her into Martha’s well-maintained bushes. Jackie whirls on her, looking ready to defend herself until she sees that it’s Claire who pulled on her sleeve.
“Oh. Claire,” Jackie says. She looks around them—they’re shielded from the party here, but Jackie doesn’t seem particularly happy about it. “I was just leaving. This feels rather…clandestine.”
“I thought we could have a little privacy here,” Claire says, keeping her voice low.
“So you want to spend your Memorial Day in a shrub?”
Claire doesn’t answer. She doesn’t know what to say—the answer is yes, she’d spend her Memorial Day just about anywhere if it meant spending it with Jackie.
In Claire’s silence Jackie seems to sink deeper into herself, averting her eyes and gnawing at her lower lip. The leaves are casting dappled shadows across her face, shifting and cascading over each other in the breeze.
“Pete told you not to see me anymore, didn’t he?” Jackie says.
She sounds tired. Resigned. Claire should have known that Jackie would suss it out immediately. She’s too smart to have the wool pulled over her eyes.
“He did,” Claire says. She lowers her voice as the group of kids sprints by, shouting about starting a game of tag. “But he isn’t home during the day, he doesn’t know where I go. As long as I can keep Martha from seeing –”
“I don’t want to cause marital issues,” Jackie interjects. She’s pulling away, as if she’s going to step out of the bushes. “Or issues with Martha. This is all getting very complicated.”
“You’re my friend. You’re worth it.”
Jackie shakes her head. Her brow is furrowed. “I should go. I shouldn’t have come, really. You don’t need me waltzing in and messing up your life.”
Jackie takes a step backward, but Claire reaches out to grab at her hands. She’s never been a particularly physical person, in her friendships or in her marriage, but it feels so much more natural with Jackie. Easy. Jackie’s soft hands cling to Claire’s in return, even as the rest of her tries to leave.
“Mess up my life?” Claire says, aghast at the very idea. “You’ve made my life better.”
“I’ve gotten between you and your best friend. I’ve caused fights with your husband,” Jackie says. “You’re a good person, with a good life. I’m not.”
Claire is startled to see tears gathering in Jackie’s eyes. She’s reminded of Jackie’s words from their last visit—I knew I wouldn’t fit in here. I guess I thought I deserved it.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Claire says.
Jackie only shrugs her off. She won’t quite look Claire in the eye, and Claire comes to the uncomfortable realization that she’s done it again.
She’s made Jackie feel as if she’s ashamed to be her friend.
“I want you in my life,” Claire says clearly. It’s maybe the first time she’s ever felt completely sure about something. “Whether that means hiding it from Pete, or fighting with him every day about it. You’re—”
Claire’s voice falters. What she wants to say is,you’re my best friend, not Martha. I never knew friendship before you. Nothing else matters.
“You’re too important to me,” Claire says instead. “I don’t want to stop being friends. Do you?”
Jackie’s eyes are wide. She looks down at their hands, and then back up; there’s something strange in the air between them, an intensity that makes Claire want to move closer. Jackie’s skin is so, so soft.
“No. I don’t,” Jackie says quietly.
“Then let’s not stop. Okay?”
Jackie nods silently.
“Okay,” Claire says. She squeezes Jackie’s hands, but doesn’t let them go. She doesn’t want to. “Good. That’s settled. Now. Hot dog, or hamburger?”
Jackie laughs a little. It breaks the strangeness still hanging between them like cobwebs. “Neither. I really should go. I don’t feel like being glared at by Martha all day.”
It’s understandable, if disappointing. “Will I see you this week?”
