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“You knew him, what, ten years before he died? How many of those years were you together?”
“What’s with the interrogation?”
“You’ve been frustrated with me in the past about…what was it you accused me of? Talking in riddles?”
“That’s right. And telling me I need to figure things out for myself. What’s with the sudden shift?”
“Maybe I’m feeling generous, given it’s Christmas.”
“You’re giving me the gift of your wisdom, is that it?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
She lean
ed back in her chair.
“How old were you when you got married? Twenty-two?”
“Close. I was twenty-one.”
“You aren’t going to give an inch, are you?”
Bree shook her head.
Red continued asking her questions about her life with Zack. Most of her answers were no more than one or two words.
“What are you getting at, Red? Can you just cut to the chase?”
“I’ve been more than patient with you. Your turn.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she groaned.
“Come on now, I think you’re enough of an adult to have one frank and honest conversation about the mess you’re making of your life. Don’t you?”
20
“What did you say?”
“You heard me. Zack is dead, Bree.”
“I’m very well aware of that, Red.”
“No matter how many places you revisit that the two of you went, or how many letters you read, or pages in a journal, he isn’t coming back.”
Bree’s eyes filled with tears. “I know that.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time listening to you over the course of the last few months, and it wasn’t until last night that I realized who you remind me of.”
“I thought I reminded you of your daughter.”
“You do. But you also remind me of my wife.”
She tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. How dare Red do this to her in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Bree looked up just as Jace’s friend approached the table.
“Merry Christmas. It’s so nice to see you again, Bree.”
“Hi, Jill. This is my friend, Red Dugan. Red this is a friend of Jace’s, Jill Woodward.”
