Chapter Thirty Hunter
Chapter Thirty
Hunter
The decision between the Then There Were None meatball sub and the Gone with the Wind turkey sub shouldn’t be a difficult one, but I’ve gotten to the front of the line twice before heading to the back because I can’t decide between them.
It’s the first time I’ve been outside in daylight hours for .
. . I’ve lost track. A week? Maybe longer.
I haven’t been sleeping at the office, but I’ve been working longer hours than normal.
I’ve been getting home at one in the morning, and I’ve been back by five.
I haven’t been taking lunch breaks or any other kinds of breaks either. I haven’t even made it to the gym.
I’m tired. Really tired. But the only thing that’s gotten me outside today is the fact that my assistant is out sick. And maybe I miss seeing daylight just a little.
“Hey,” she says. I know it’s Lucy before I turn my head. Relief washes through me like a warm rain.
“Hey,” I reply. “It’s good to see you.” We didn’t exactly leave on bad terms, but I was clear with her that my priority after the wedding was going to be work. I guess she understood it meant I wouldn’t have time for her.
“You look tired,” she says. Her eyes soften, and I want to dive into their sea-green comfort.
“I’m fine,” I say. But I’m not fine. I’m hungry. And exhausted.
“What are you having? I think I’m going for the Persuasion.”
“You usually get the Great Gatsby.”
“Right,” she says. “But things change. I’m trying new things.” She stops herself from saying more, and I can see her mind whirring. “Not all new things. Just new small things. Clearing out stuff in my apartment I don’t like. You know, that kind of thing.”
“And new sandwich fillings?”
“Right. Yesterday I got a grinder—A Tale of Two Cities, I think it was called.”
“Wow,” I say, genuinely surprised.
She laughs. “I know. It’s not groundbreaking, but I figure we all live our lives in certain patterns, believing certain truths, and sometimes it’s good to push a little.
Create new patterns and . . . I don’t know.
Maybe it’s just about . . . seeing what’s in front of us.
Seeing the routines and so-called truths and challenging them a little. ”
I scan her face, trying to figure out if what she’s saying is aimed at me. Is she trying to send me a message? There’s nothing in her expression except pure honesty. Pure openness. Because that’s who Lucy is.
“I threw out a bowl,” she says, like that will answer all the questions I have.
“And a mirror. And some awful pants my Mom said looked nice on me. If I were a fifty-six-year-old woman, they probably would look nice, but I’m not there yet.
I tossed some faux flowers I bought because I saw them in a magazine and thought they would look nice, but they never really looked good. So they’ve gone too.”
I nod at her, because I’m not quite sure what she wants me to say and I just like to look at her. I like to hear what she has to say. I like being close to her.
I miss her.
“You probably think I’m nuts for keeping all this stuff I don’t like. It just made sense to me for a long time. But all of a sudden, I’ve seen this crazy behavior, and I can’t unsee it, you know?”
She nods ahead, and I realize the line has moved forward and we’re nearing the front. Except I don’t want it to be our turn, because then she’ll have to go back to her office and I’ll have to go back to mine.
“Did you decide?” she asks. “You usually get the Jane Eyre, don’t you?”
Yeah. I always get the pastrami. I don’t know why I’ve gotten to the front of the line twice and still been undecided. It’s always the same answer.
“I want to hear more about you,” I blurt. “Can you stay? Eat lunch with me?”
Her face breaks into an enormous smile, and it’s so infectious the corners of my mouth turn up. It aches slightly, like my mouth is out of practice. “Sure,” she says. “If you have time.”
We pay for our sandwiches and try to find a table. When we’ve eaten here before, we always head for the shade, but the only table available is in the sun. “Are you okay in the sun?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I really am.”
We take a seat and unwrap our sandwiches in silence.
I don’t mind that it’s a little bit awkward, just so long as she’s close.
I get a faint whiff of roses, and I feel the muscles in my jaw unlock.
Lucy is just what I needed today. She’s who I’ve needed these last weeks.
She’s light and sunny and exactly the opposite of who I thought she was when I first met her.
“Did you see the pictures of Ed and Katherine?” she asks, filling the silence. “They look like they’re having the most fantastic time.”
I pull out my phone. I don’t think I’ve bothered to look at the photos.
“It’s on our group chat,” she explains, as if she knows I won’t have seen it.
I bring up the pictures. Sunshine. Sand. Smiles. “You’re right. They look happy.”
As soon as I say the words, I’m aware of how not happy I am.
I’m not happy at all. The last few weeks, I’ve just been surviving.
Is this my life now? Is this all I’m going to have?
A snatched lunch every few weeks with the woman who’s meant more to me than anyone I can ever remember?
A few precious moments of sunshine before the shadows of the surrounding buildings cast me into darkness again?
Is this the price I have to pay to keep the business Ed and I have built afloat?
“I’m going up to Massachusetts this weekend.” She pauses, and I realize she’s waiting for me to say whether I’m going.
“Oh, yeah. Ed invited me, but I can’t make it. It’s my mom’s birthday, so I’m going back to Pennsylvania.”
“Isn’t it strange how you came from one side of New York, and I came from the other, and here’s where we ended up?”
“New York takes us all in,” I say. “Gives us all second chances. A chance to reinvent ourselves.”
She sighs. “Wow, I like that. A chance to reinvent ourselves. Yes.”
I watch her as she’s focused on the city to my left.
The skin on her cheeks looks so smooth, I long to reach out and run my knuckles down her face.
She lifts her sunglasses up and sets them on top of her head.
“I did that the first time for sure. I moved away, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t living in Katherine’s shadow.
I came here as a paralegal. No one back in Boston would ever have thought I would end up as a paralegal.
Katherine was the smart one. The organized one. But you know what?”
I’m rapt. I want to hear it. “What?”
“I’m a great paralegal. And you know what else?”
“Tell me.” I love the way the bridge of her nose wrinkles a little when she’s talking passionately. She’s so expressive. Her heart is out there, showing everyone who she is.
“I’m smart. And organized. And I’m a good sister. A good daughter. I’m just not Katherine, and I’m never going to be Katherine, and I’m okay with that.”
“I’m okay with that too,” I say.
She laughs. “I’m probably not making much sense. And I’m not looking for you to agree—”
“But I do agree.” I miss her so much. I want to pull her into my lap and bury my face in her neck. I know holding her will make me feel better. “You’re a good person, Lucy. And of course you’re smart and organized and all those other good things. I’ve never doubted it.”
As we stare at each other, both of us grin. I’m not sure what we’re smiling about. The New York summer? The sandwiches? The happiness that comes from being in each other’s company? I know that since I moved to New York, I haven’t been happier than I am when I’m with Lucy.
“How are you?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern. “Are you taking care of yourself?”
“Things are going well,” I reply and take another bite of sandwich to avoid getting into the nitty-gritty.
I don’t need to hear about how I should be sleeping more or taking better care of myself.
What’s important is the business is doing well.
Clients are happy. Employees are productive. That’s what’s important.
Doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.
She smiles at me, watching me chew. “Tell me.”
I finish my bite, and Lucy seems happy to wait in silence. She shoots me a look like she knows I’m trying to avoid talking and she’s not going to let me get away with it. Our eyes lock as we both chew, and I chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Eventually, what seems like an hour and a half later, I swallow. I take a swig of my drink, but Lucy is already taking another bite. She’s not going to fill this silence for me.
She always was the most stubborn woman.
“The business is going well,” I say. “Our revenues are up ten percent year on year. I’ve got a pitch for a new client coming up this week. I’m all prepped for it. I’ve kind of honed those things now. Plus we have a track record that makes things easier.”
“That’s great,” she says, finally breaking her silence. “Sounds like you haven’t missed Ed at all. I always believed in you.”
Her words hang on my shoulders, heavy and unmoving.
She always believed in me? Of course she did. How could I have doubted it?
“I’ve tried not to disturb him on his honeymoon,” I say.
The fact is, I haven’t needed to disturb him.
We work closely together. I usually know what’s going on in his office and vice versa.
There have been no surprises. Nothing crawling out of the woodwork that I didn’t expect.
She nods, urging me to say more. “It’s not been as bad .
. . like, things didn’t collapse when he left. ”
Her smile doesn’t exactly say I told you so. It’s sympathetic. Caring. I’ve missed it.
“Maybe we’re both learning that how it was doesn’t mean it always has to be that way,” she says.
It’s been two weeks. It’s not like Ed has retired. “Maybe,” I say. “Anyway, Ed’s back on Monday.”
“You heard they got an offer accepted on a house?”
“Yeah. So they’ll be caught up with that soon,” I reply. I just gotta keep on as I’m going. All the plates are spinning in the air. I’ve proven to myself, if I work hard enough, I can keep them spinning. I don’t want to give them an opportunity to drop. I can’t afford to take my eye off anything.
“Life is moving on,” Lucy says on a sigh.
I’m not sure life is moving on. Not for me, anyway.
I feel like I’m on a treadmill and I’m having to run faster and faster just to stay in the same spot.
Ed’s life is moving on. Katherine with him.
Even Lucy’s moving on. I won’t get to see her as she blooms. Now she’s gained a little confidence, there’ll be no stopping her, but I won’t be there to witness it.
The thought slices through me like a broken shard of glass.
Everyone’s moving on. But I’m still in this one spot. Stuck.