“That must’ve been hard.”
“It was, but I learned how to deal with it. Except lately… I don’t want to deal with it anymore. I don’t want to be… the shape he wants. Does that make any sense?”
“Not really, but I’m catching pieces.” She puts a hand on my knee. “I’m so sorry you’re dealing with whatever this is, Regan. You’re a good person. When I first got hired, nobody was all that nice to me, except for you. Do you remember inviting me to lunch?”
“Honestly? Not at all.”
“Well, you did, and I haven’t forgotten it.”
“Are you letting me stay over because I asked to sit with you at lunch?”
“Yes! And no, but mostly yes. I’m trying to say you do good things for people, and whatever’s happening now, you don’t deserve it.” She hesitates, her eyes flicking to the window, and her voice lowers. “Are you in trouble? Does this have to do with that guy you married?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Thinking about Liam sends a thrill into my core. I hate the way we left our last conversation. I was so mad at the way he handled it, but now I can see it was exactly the way my father took the news. Maybe I have more of him in me than I like to admit.
“Are you sure? You can tell me. There are, uh, resources?—“
“No, no, seriously, no, I don’t need resources. Liam’s not the problem, not really anyway. He’s a symptom, if anything.”
“Uh huh. Right, that makes sense.”
“I know it doesn’t, but trust me here. My family made some stupid choices and now… I have to figure out how to handle it. And I need a night away to sort it all out.”
“Well, you can have that here.” She sits back and crosses her legs, turning her attention to the TV. “Shall we watch some mindless bullshit?”
“Oh yes please. Ilovemindless bullshit. There better be housewives and possibly young horny idiots involved.”
“Uh, yeah, what else is there?”
We don’t talk for another hour. It’s really nice. I sip wine, watch bizarre old ladies scream at each other and get inappropriately drunk, and do my best to feel like I’m normal.
Which lasts all of two episodes before there’s a knock at the door.
Kelly jumps up to answer and comes back with a very concerned expression. “Uh, Regan? So, you probably won’t like this, but your husband is waiting outside. He says he wants to talk to you, but he won’t force you to come down. He says—“ She grunts in frustration. “I forget, it was a whole thing, but the gist is he wants to talk but won’t force you. He’s waiting in the park a block over.”
“Oh,” I say stupidly, trying to process. “He told you all that?”
“I know! I had to memorize it all in like ten seconds!” She chews a nail and looks over her shoulder. “For what it’s worth, he seemed very… sorry. I don’t know.”
My guts twist. My mouth is dry. Wine doesn’t help. I stand and pace before peeking out the window. The street is empty and quiet; there’s no motion on the sidewalk.
I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to stay in here and keep hiding. I could watch all the TV in the world and act like everything’s fine.
But that’s what the old Regan would’ve done, and I want to be better than that. The old Regan would do her best to smile and act as though the house wasn’t on fire. The new Regan needs to get a damn hose and start spraying.
“I’ll go talk to him.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s fine, really. Liam’s not the issue.”
“I know you said that, but?—“
“If I’m not back in a half hour, call the cops.”
“Oh god, that doesn’t inspire confidence.”
“I’ll be back, don’t worry.” I hug her quickly. “Thanks for being my friend.”
