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“Are you serious?!” I cry, instantly bursting with pride at the look on my sweet friend’s face. Sasha, bless her heart, is pink as cotton candy and clashing violently with her red hair.
“They called me this morning,” she admits, tucking a lock behind her ear. “Said they want me to have a room in their next newcomer exhibit.”
“Sasha, that’s incredible!” A weight starts to settle in my gut, and I have to swallow back a lump in my throat. I’ve been there for every step of Sasha’s artistic journey. From high school clubs to art school to the private commissions she’d been carrying out in her apartment. Now, she had a real showcase in an upscale gallery in Soho and I’m not there to celebrate with her.
“Lady, where in all the hell have you been? You should be here for this!” Jessica demands, hitting the nail of my feelings right on the head. “We miss you! When are you coming home?”
“Jess…” Sasha calms on the other end of the line.
Great, now guilt is full-on joining the emotional rollercoaster. They both know where I am. I’d talked to them both at length before I’d left New York. But, apparently, knowing was not the same as understanding.
“I’ll come back for a visit soon,” I promise. “I’m not going to miss Sasha’s show.”
“Pfft. That’s not for another month!” Jess blows out her pursed lips like a disgruntled horse. “And a visit isn’t going to satisfy my Lizzie withdrawal.” Her dark eyes flash with comedic offense but I can’t help but wonder if there’s something real beneath the teasing. A sense of betrayal, perhaps? Even with our talks, I had left pretty quickly for such a big decision. I’d quit my job, canceled the lease on my apartment, and put everything I own into storage. For all intents and purposes, I’d just disappeared.
Where Sasha is concerned, it’s the first time we’ve been truly apart since high school. Jess, I’d only known a few years, but our friendship had been instant and intense and this was its first test of distance.
“Hey, Lizzie…” Sasha leans closer to the laptop. Her fine red hair falls in front of her shoulders and around her face, “…are you crying?”
Oh, shit.
“No!” I dab at my face. No tears but I can feel a definite misting going on. “No, I’m fine. I just miss you guys.”
“Then you should call us more! It’s been, what, a month? One email is all we’ve had from you! One!” Jess holds up a single finger. Trust a lawyer to declare the evidence like exhibit A.
“I know, I know…”
In truth, it’s because I’d missed them that I’d struggled with contacting them. Each time I’d approached a keyboard intending to write home, I’d felt something shift in the back of my head. Something dangerous.
I see it now, visualizing it like a lockbox. Its lid shakes, desperate to open and drown me in feelings I’d been keeping locked away since Nick’s death. Feelings I just don’t have the strength to deal with right now.
I’d felt the same sensation in the park on that first trip to Gatlinburg. I’d sat there on that public bench, with that framed picture in hand, and had started to cry. The box had cracked open and I’d been helpless to it. It had taken sheer willpower to shut it back down tight. And I’d been avoiding anything that might inspire it to shake loose again.
Including Jess and Sasha.
“I’m sorry,” I admit. “Things have been busy here. I bought a place.”
“That run down house?”
“Ooh, how big is it?” Sasha cuts in with a more enthusiastic tone. “Wait, are you there now? Show us!”
I laugh, glancing around. Unlike the dining room, the front room was still in need of some serious TLC.
“How about I show you around when it’s done? Right now, it’s kind of a mess.”
“Screw the house. We’re a mess!” Jess argues, rolling her eyes at me. “We need our Lizzie fix, so tell us what you’ve been doing. Oh…” Jess’s eyes brighten as they seem to shift across the screen. “Or should we make that who you’ve been… Hello, sailor!”
I look back over my shoulder. Caleb had come into the room, his gaze scanning, searching for something. His attention now, of course, is focused on my laptop. His eyes narrow and dark brows lower.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Um, yeah…” Caleb seems to shake himself, remembering why he’d entered the room in the first place. He’s quick to discover the cover for his sander on the far windowsill. “Just needed to grab—”
“Hey therrre!” This time, Jess calls with deliberate volume, waving into the webcam. “Hey! Move your butt, Lizzie. We can’t see.”
“I’ll be done in a minute,” I promise Caleb, pointedly glancing at the door. “Did you wanna wait for me in the truck?”
When I’d first met Caleb, his wayward curls, his size, and his propensity to show all the joyous pleasantry of stone had made him a monstrous Big Foot. Now, I can read him better. I see the suspicion in his face, the intelligence in his eyes. He doesn’t argue but I can sense the restraint needed to keep his thoughts at bay.
