Chapter 29
Ilena
Sunday Evening
Three Days After the Outing
Ilena passes the gravy boat to Ethan, who takes it but not the drip plate underneath. As he pours the jus over the rosemary-and-garlic-marinated
sirloin, all Ilena sees is red: spreading, pooling, staining everything.
“It’s smart, from a business standpoint.” Ethan sets the gravy boat down on the cream table runner. “Self-improvement market
is set to top fourteen billion in the next three years.”
Aubrey’s eyes seek Ilena’s in apology, but it’s Kai, seated across from Ethan, who lifts the gravy boat, dabs at the droplets
of red with his napkin, and puts the plate beneath.
Ilena can’t wait for the explanation: how Aubrey made them scramble to add extra place settings and folding chairs by bringing
both Kai and Ethan to her dinner party. My God, Ethan. Who is so very much alive that it makes Ilena’s skin crawl.
“Still.” Ethan presses those too-hip glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If you’re using an app to validate your sense of
self, you deserve to be fleeced straight down to your wrinkled ass.”
Ilena wills Mallory not to go on the offensive because Aubrey’s cheeks are already bright red and she’s staring at them with a panicky look in her eyes. And besides, they’re only on their second course, and Ilena has timed the white chocolate soufflés down to the millisecond.
“Actually . . .” Mallory spins the stem of her empty wineglass, her tone not aggressive as Ilena feared but strangely defensive.
Even when AIM was running on investment fumes and they’d thought a rival app would hit the market before them, Mallory remained
unflappable. “Our subscription fee is the lowest of any app in our sector even with the addition of ‘How Wide’s My Smile.’
It was a conscious decision, to thank our users and—”
Ilena interrupts. “More wine? Please, let me live vicariously.”
Ethan pours himself more of the red he brought, ignoring Aubrey’s half-full glass and Mallory’s empty one. His eyes linger
on the swell of Mallory’s breasts as he says brusquely, “Sure, but going public changes everything.”
Ilena hates that she’s in agreement. But that’s what she’s been trying to get Mallory to see. She changes the subject. “We’re
boring our guests. AIM isn’t everything.”
“It’s not? No one told me!” Noreen says with the enthusiasm Ilena used to feel.
“Me either,” says Sun, one half of “Sun and Ava,” the couple at the far end of the table that Felix and “fun Ilena” apparently
jetted off to Nantucket with over Memorial Day. “We’re invested. Or we will be.”
Ava crosses her fingers. “Early retirement plan. Not that we’ve gotten insider information. As much as we and a bottle of
mezcal have tried.”
Laughter rolls around the table, though neither Ilena nor Mallory can conjure more than a thin smile. The joke hits too close
to their other home.
Ilena feels Felix’s eyes on her, questioning if she’s okay. Jonah would know she wasn’t.
“Speaking of,” Ethan interrupts. “Is there a friends and family discount? For the stock?”
Aubrey’s shoulders creep up. “Ethan, please, we’re here for Ilena and Fel—”
“Seriously.” He talks over Aubrey, pulling out his phone. “I’ll download the app right now, and I’ll prove just how wide my
smile can be— Oh, wait, Aubrey already knows.” Aubrey’s cheeks flush an even deeper crimson and her eyes flicker to Kai, who’s
staring at his plate. This Ethan seems just as terrible as he was in their world, except here, he doesn’t cover as well. “Think
I can get points for that? But the name, really, ‘How Wide’s My Smile’? So juvenile.”
“No,” Aubrey says, softly, then, louder, “don’t do that. Don’t make fun of it. It was my grandmother’s favorite saying.”
Her grandmother, whom Aubrey held on the highest of pedestals. Ilena had nearly forgotten. But clearly, Mallory hadn’t. Ilena
watches as Mallory’s eyes find Aubrey’s, bonding over losses that can’t be said aloud for fear of revealing them as the imposters
they are. Ilena blinks, looks away from them and into her kitchen with its marble-topped island and glass-tiled backsplash
and industrial pendant lights. Is this Ilena happy with her life? Would Ilena be? Happy without Jonah?
Ilena suddenly feels like she’s going to explode. She stands and gestures to the kitchen. “Mallory, would you mind?”
Felix lifts himself halfway, pulling an envelope out from under his placemat. “But I thought we’d—”
“With dessert.” Ilena faces the assembled table: Sun and Ava, her supposedly close friends whose names she has to keep reminding herself of; Kai, Aubrey’s one-night stand; James, her husband’s actual spouse; Noreen, the employee who deserves a raise in both worlds; the reanimated Ethan, still a colossal prick; and Aubrey and Mallory, her two friends whom she’s starting to think she hasn’t been all that “best” to lately. “It’s a soufflé so . . .”
James rattles his chair back. “Let me.”
Before she can form a response, he’s already in the kitchen.
“Good man,” Ethan says. “Soufflés can go south in an instant. Once they do, well, there’s no way back. You can’t pluck feathers
from a bald chicken.”
The words cause Mallory to drop her fork, where it clanks against her plate, drawing all eyes to her. She gives a smile that
Ilena knows is forced, though Ilena can’t fathom why.
“Okay, then,” Ilena says, an unease settling over her. “Probably a better choice, anyway. Not sure Mallory could find the
oven with a schematic.” Ilena pats her best friend’s shoulder, covered in that same Burberry coat they timeshared in their
world, as she passes behind her. But then Mallory grabs Ilena’s hand. “Love you too, Mal.” Ilena chuckles, yet Mallory’s grip
only tightens.
Ilena bends and whispers, “Mallory.”
But Mallory squints and keeps running her finger around the emerald of Ilena’s engagement ring. Mallory’s cheeks pale, making
her watermelon blush and bright pink lipstick appear painted on as if by a child fresh from her mother’s makeup drawer. When
Mallory lets go, her face creases in a way that’s hard to discern. Not jealousy or anger or sadness or disappointment . . .
fear. It’s fear.