Farewell to Cedar Key by Terri Dulong Page B

voice sounded odd. Had he been drinking?
    â€œNo, it’s okay. I’m still up. What’s going on?”
    â€œWell—” He hesitated again before saying, “Well . . . um . . . you see. It seems that I’ve met somebody. . . .”
    Now I realized that what I heard in his voice was nerves and uncertainty.
    â€œIt seems? ” I asked.
    I heard a forced chuckle before he said, “Right. Well, I have met somebody. Her name is Dawn. She works with me, you see. A fairly new editor at the company. It started off with just a drink after work. You know.”
    Why did he always assume that I knew things? When I remained silent, he went on in a rush.
    â€œOne thing led to another, drinks and then dinners and then, well, ah . . . Dawn informed me this evening that she’s pregnant. She just found out. She’s about ten weeks along. I thought you should know.”
    On wobbly legs, I found my way to the stool at the counter and managed to plunk down while trying to absorb what he’d just told me. He’d met a woman. She worked with him. They had drinks. Dinners. And now she was pregnant? There was no assumption involved on my part to know that he’d slept with her.
    â€œOh, I see,” was all I could say. Yes, this time I did actually see what he was saying, and doing a quick calculation in my head, I realized he had slept with her in July, either before coming to Cedar Key or shortly after returning to New York.
    â€œGood. Good,” I heard him say.
    Good? For who? For him? For me?
    â€œAnd so . . . where does this leave us?” I asked, and then let out an exaggerated chuckle. “Oh, wait. There is no us, right?”
    â€œWell, no . . . not anymore. I wanted you to know before I came there for my uncle’s memorial. And I thought it might be easier to tell you on the phone. Dawn and I are planning to get married, but we’re not sure when. I just wanted you to know.”
    â€œGee, that was really generous of you,” I said, and didn’t try to disguise the snarkiness in my tone. “Well . . . thank you so much for telling me, Ben. I do appreciate that, rather than finding out from somebody else.”
    â€œOh, good,” I heard him reply, followed by a deep sigh across the line. “And just so you know, Dawn won’t be coming with me to Cedar Key next month. I’m going to get my uncle’s house listed with a realtor and put it up for sale. I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for us, Josie. You know how it is.”
    â€œI certainly do,” I said before hanging up the phone.
    I stood at the counter for a few minutes, not exactly sure what I was feeling. Sorrow? Rejection? Happiness? Relief?
    I walked to the fridge, removed an open bottle of Pinot Grigio, took a wineglass from the cabinet, filled the glass halfway, and then took a long sip. I sat back down on the stool and shook my head as laughter bubbled out of me.
    â€œWhat the hell just happened?” I said out loud to the empty kitchen.
    I took another sip of wine and shook my head again. One thing I knew for certain—sorrow was not among the emotions I was experiencing.

8
    I wasn’t due into the yarn shop until noon, so I had called Mallory at seven in the morning and asked if she could join me for breakfast downtown at Ken’s Diner in an hour.
    When I walked upstairs, she was already seated at a booth near the window.
    â€œHey,” I said, sliding in across from her. I waved my hand in the air at the waitress passing with the coffeepot. “Thanks,” I told her as she filled my mug. We gave our order and then I launched into an account of Ben’s call the night before.
    Mallory rested her elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “What. A. Shit. I can hardly believe this! So he goes back to New York, meets this woman, gets her pregnant . . . and all without formally telling you whatever you had together is finished?”
    I