took a large drink.
Carly’s sip was much smaller. In keeping with their group’s name, she ordered a margarita every week, but she rarely finished one. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She preferred to save her calories for something worthwhile, like chocolate-covered caramels for breakfast.
“Did you ever cheat?” Therese lifted her glum gaze from the glass to Carly. “In school, I mean.”
“No.” Or anywhere else, unless an occasional white lie counted. She’d never stayed out past curfew, never gotten drunk or used drugs and had tried always to be fair and nice. Goody Two-shoes , Jeff had called her.
“Me, neither. I told Abby that, and she came this close to calling me a liar. At least she wasn’t doing it for herself. She’s good at history. She knew all the answers. She was helping out Nicole, who didn’t have time to study.” After a moment, she sighed. “So how was everyone at the transition unit?”
“Good. The kids were fine, the soldiers were fine.” Carly twisted her glass a time or two, leaving wet rings on the napkin, before going on. “I saw Dane.”
“Who is—” Therese’s brow furrowed. “The guy from the cave? Really? Where?”
“At the transition unit. He was visiting Justin. I told you about him. The surfer kid from California.”
“Yeah, yeah, younger than my baby brother. Stick to Dane. Was he as cute as we thought? Did he remember us fondly? Did you find out if he was married?”
Carly blinked, then laughed. “Sheesh, you’re channeling Jessy. Let’s see…did we even discuss whether we thought he was cute? I don’t remember. Did he remember us? I assume so, since he was trapped in a small space with us, though he didn’t remark on it.” But he had remembered her name, she thought with a small rush of warmth.
As to whether he was married…the thought hadn’t occurred to her. In her world, there were two kinds of people: those who were widowed and those who weren’t. Of course, those who weren’t broke down into two more groups: those who were married and those who weren’t.
Which one was Dane? Face-to-face with him, she hadn’t given it a thought, but now she wondered. Was he single, involved, or did he go home to a wife every night?
“I don’t know if he’s married.” She shrugged as if she didn’t care. Though he hadn’t been wearing a ring. She hadn’t realized she’d noticed, but obviously she had. “Why? Are you interested in him?”
Therese’s gesture was dismissive. “He’s awfully cute, but he’s not my type.” Then she teasingly added, “I think he might be your type.”
“I’ve been alone so long, I’m not sure I still have a type.”
Reaching across the table, Therese squeezed her hand. “You do. Trust me.”
“Yeah, right. Paul’s been gone longer than Jeff, and you haven’t even looked at another man.” She regretted the words almost as soon as they were out, because they intensified the sorrow that was always barely there in her friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Therese.”
“Aren’t we all, sweetie.” After an uncomfortable silence, Therese straightened, her determination to brighten the mood apparent on her face. “Today the new boy in my class said, ‘Miss Twace, the windows are dirty.’ I said, ‘Yes, they are, Kelvin. I’ll give you a dollar to clean them.’ He rolled his eyes and said, ‘I don’t need a dowwar to cwean them, Miss Twace. I need paper towels.’”
Carly laughed, the tension easing in her shoulders. Before the chuckles had quieted, Jessy slid into the chair beside Therese and, without greetings, demanded, “Share the joke. I had a crappy day at the bank, and I need someone to amuse me almost as much as I need a drink.”
“What happened at the bank?”
Jessy waved her hand carelessly, the diamonds in her wedding ring catching a bit of sparkle from the overhead light. “People are idiots. Whatever possessed me to get a job where I have to deal with them every single day of the
Carly’s sip was much smaller. In keeping with their group’s name, she ordered a margarita every week, but she rarely finished one. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She preferred to save her calories for something worthwhile, like chocolate-covered caramels for breakfast.
“Did you ever cheat?” Therese lifted her glum gaze from the glass to Carly. “In school, I mean.”
“No.” Or anywhere else, unless an occasional white lie counted. She’d never stayed out past curfew, never gotten drunk or used drugs and had tried always to be fair and nice. Goody Two-shoes , Jeff had called her.
“Me, neither. I told Abby that, and she came this close to calling me a liar. At least she wasn’t doing it for herself. She’s good at history. She knew all the answers. She was helping out Nicole, who didn’t have time to study.” After a moment, she sighed. “So how was everyone at the transition unit?”
“Good. The kids were fine, the soldiers were fine.” Carly twisted her glass a time or two, leaving wet rings on the napkin, before going on. “I saw Dane.”
“Who is—” Therese’s brow furrowed. “The guy from the cave? Really? Where?”
“At the transition unit. He was visiting Justin. I told you about him. The surfer kid from California.”
“Yeah, yeah, younger than my baby brother. Stick to Dane. Was he as cute as we thought? Did he remember us fondly? Did you find out if he was married?”
Carly blinked, then laughed. “Sheesh, you’re channeling Jessy. Let’s see…did we even discuss whether we thought he was cute? I don’t remember. Did he remember us? I assume so, since he was trapped in a small space with us, though he didn’t remark on it.” But he had remembered her name, she thought with a small rush of warmth.
As to whether he was married…the thought hadn’t occurred to her. In her world, there were two kinds of people: those who were widowed and those who weren’t. Of course, those who weren’t broke down into two more groups: those who were married and those who weren’t.
Which one was Dane? Face-to-face with him, she hadn’t given it a thought, but now she wondered. Was he single, involved, or did he go home to a wife every night?
“I don’t know if he’s married.” She shrugged as if she didn’t care. Though he hadn’t been wearing a ring. She hadn’t realized she’d noticed, but obviously she had. “Why? Are you interested in him?”
Therese’s gesture was dismissive. “He’s awfully cute, but he’s not my type.” Then she teasingly added, “I think he might be your type.”
“I’ve been alone so long, I’m not sure I still have a type.”
Reaching across the table, Therese squeezed her hand. “You do. Trust me.”
“Yeah, right. Paul’s been gone longer than Jeff, and you haven’t even looked at another man.” She regretted the words almost as soon as they were out, because they intensified the sorrow that was always barely there in her friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Therese.”
“Aren’t we all, sweetie.” After an uncomfortable silence, Therese straightened, her determination to brighten the mood apparent on her face. “Today the new boy in my class said, ‘Miss Twace, the windows are dirty.’ I said, ‘Yes, they are, Kelvin. I’ll give you a dollar to clean them.’ He rolled his eyes and said, ‘I don’t need a dowwar to cwean them, Miss Twace. I need paper towels.’”
Carly laughed, the tension easing in her shoulders. Before the chuckles had quieted, Jessy slid into the chair beside Therese and, without greetings, demanded, “Share the joke. I had a crappy day at the bank, and I need someone to amuse me almost as much as I need a drink.”
“What happened at the bank?”
Jessy waved her hand carelessly, the diamonds in her wedding ring catching a bit of sparkle from the overhead light. “People are idiots. Whatever possessed me to get a job where I have to deal with them every single day of the
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