Chapter Thirty-Two
The first day Josh didn’t show up to drive her home from school, Eliza didn’t think much of it. She figured he’d forgotten to mention having a conflict, or maybe he had to stay late at school.
The next day, she was mildly annoyed. She’d come to count on the rides?—and, even more so, the conversation.
The third day, she was mad. But underneath the anger, she was hurt. Did their daily visits not mean anything to him? How could he not have the decency to at least tell her their routine was no more?
Even worse, the rides had stopped very soon after Laura and Jack announced that Laura was no longer seeking treatment. That there were no other options.
None of Scott’s friends were coming around at that point, so other than glimpses in the halls at school, Josh had disappeared completely. And then Laura died, and she saw him at the funeral with his parents and some other friends of Scott’s and their families. When they came for shiva, he gave her an awkward hello at some point before Eliza disappeared upstairs, refusing to come down again.
When Eliza thought back on it, she still felt some of the same hurt. Whatever was in Josh’s head, for Eliza, it was rejection, pure and simple. And Josh hadn’t even had the decency to discuss it with her. (Even Berger on Sex and the City left Carrie a Post-it note.) The experience certainly hadn’t done anything to dissuade her from her growing belief that no one could be counted on to stick around.
She couldn’t help reflecting on this as she rode the elevator up to Scott and Maren’s for their Friendsgiving celebration, just a day after her sit-down with Ross. She’d gone straight home afterward and reread everything Laura had written about him in her diary. It was like mourning someone she never really had in her life. It shouldn’t have been that painful. But it was, excruciatingly so.
Before leaving work a half hour earlier, she’d gone to the bathroom with her full makeup kit. To explain the puffiness around her eyes that remained after hours of crying, she’d told her colleagues that she had had a reaction to a new face cream. She could still see evidence of it even now, but figured that, with a new spackling on of foundation, eyeliner, and eyeshadow, no one would notice.
When Scott opened the apartment door, she immediately handed him the chocolate ganache cake from Zabar’s. “Dessert, as instructed,” she said.
“Excellent choice. Come in.” Scott stepped back to allow her to enter and then gave her his usual half hug.
“So who else is coming?” she asked as she took off her coat to hang on the hooks near the front door.
“Let’s see. Our neighbors Thad and Jeremy, Maren’s friend Olivia and her fiancé, Luke, her other friend Rhiannon, and, of course, Josh.”
So I guess Rhiannon is the potential setup for Josh? Maybe she should have invited Griffin from the other night. They could have a whole fake-dating trope going on.
Apparently, she was the last to arrive. Everyone was perched on the couch and chairs in the living room with glasses of wine or bottles of beer, chatting. The only one not sitting was Maren, who had just set down a platter of nibbles. “Please eat!” she said before turning to Eliza to give her a hug. Eliza pretended to be happy to see her. They’d always gotten along fine, and she knew Maren was only looking out for Scott, but she still felt a pulse of anger at the sight of her.
“Everyone,” Maren said then, “this is Scott’s sister, Eliza.” She pointed to everyone in turn to introduce them. Eliza noted that Rhiannon, who wore glasses and a sweet smile, was sitting nowhere near Josh.
Josh slid over on the couch. “E, come sit.”
She squeezed in beside him, and he bumped his shoulder against hers. “How’s it going? You look... tired?”
So much for the magic of makeup. “Yeah, stuff’s been really busy at work.”
Olivia, who was sitting nearest to her in an adjacent armchair, leaned toward her. “So, Eliza, what do you do?”
“I work for a nonprofit that focuses on education for disadvantaged students.”
“Oh wow, how wonderful. That’s a much better answer than mine.” She laughed.
“What’s yours?”
“I do marketing for a pharmaceutical company. I get to write all that small print. May cause headaches, brain tumor, uncontrollable bleeding, and death .”
Eliza laughed. “I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”
Olivia shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
The conversation ebbed and flowed around work, Thanksgiving plans, and what everyone had been streaming lately on Netflix. Then, during a pause, the man who’d been introduced as Thad suddenly exclaimed, “Oh! How could I have forgotten to ask you, Eliza?—have you learned more about your biological father?”
All eyes turned to her, and she felt her face go hot. No mystery as to whether Thad had been at the infamous shiva. But before she could even begin to get her brain on board with answering, Thad’s partner, Jeremy, smacked him. “Jesus, Thad!” Then Jeremy turned to Eliza. “Please ignore him. He was raised by wolves.”
“Hey!” Thad objected. “I thought you liked my mother.”
The group laughed, but Eliza noticed Maren’s eyes on Scott, and Scott’s eyes on her. While everyone was engrossed in Thad and Jeremy’s clearly frequently repeated story about the first time Jeremy met Thad’s parents, Josh murmured to her, “How are things going with Ross?”
“Yeah, not good. But I can’t talk about it here.” She anxiously glanced at Scott and Maren, but they weren’t looking their way.
“I’m so sorry, E. Is that why you look so wiped?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Not sure how I should feel about you constantly telling me how terrible I look.”
He shook his head. “You never look terrible. But seriously, you can call me anytime.”
She nodded. But it was not her MO to trust that kind of statement.
Across the room, Maren stood. “Is everyone ready for dinner?”
There was a chorus of affirmative responses, and they all made their way to the dining table to find seats. Eliza and Olivia helped Maren bring in the food?—turkey, of course, and a raft of sides: stuffing, green beans, sweet potatoes, some sort of corn casserole, brussels sprouts, and bread rolls?—while Scott and Josh refreshed drinks.
Maren had just sat down?—after Rhiannon and Olivia yelled at her to stop fussing?—when she smacked herself in the forehead. “Oh my gosh. I totally forgot the salad.”
Eliza stood. “I’ll get it.” She couldn’t imagine where on the table it would fit, but whatever.
“Thanks, Eliza. It’s in the fridge.”
She made her way around the table and toward the kitchen door. As she approached, she could hear Josh and Scott talking. As she reached the doorway, Scott was just pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sending you Shira’s contact information right now.”
Before Josh could respond, he saw Eliza, and what she read as a guilty expression crossed his face.
“Don’t mind me,” she said, heading straight for the fridge. “Just here to get the salad.” She easily found the large serving bowl covered with cling wrap and placed it on the counter. “Scott, do you know where the tongs are?”
Her brother found them in a drawer. “I’ll bring them in, with these.” He held up two bottles of wine.
She was dropping the cling wrap in the trash when Josh touched her shoulder. “E?—I know this isn’t the place or time to talk, but why don’t we get together?”
“Oh, no need for that. It’s a crazy time for everyone.” And she picked up the salad and left the kitchen.
During dinner, she was seated between Rhiannon and Luke, and she and Rhiannon ended up in a long conversation about travel and all the places on their bucket lists that they wanted to visit. Josh kept glancing over at her, but she kept her eyes on Rhiannon, or on her own plate. She was also distracted by Scott, who was constantly looking at his phone. Maybe there were other women whose contact information Josh needed.
Finally, Scott stood and went over to Maren at the opposite end of the table. Eliza strained to hear without being obvious in her eavesdropping.
“Carol keeps calling me. I’d better call her back, just in case it’s an emergency. I’ll be right back.”
Eliza’s stomach sank, turning her meal into stone, and she put down her fork. Vicky had told her that Carol would be receiving notice of the order to show cause very soon. Perhaps even before the holiday. Eliza began to suspect?—more than suspect?—that it had landed.
She took a large swig from her wineglass and looked around the table. Thad would probably enjoy the fireworks that might ensue upon Scott’s return. Unless, maybe, there was another reason for the call. Perhaps she just urgently wanted to wish him a happy Thanksgiving two days early. Or maybe she’d had an accident and was in the hospital. Or...
It was a while before Scott came back, and Maren took the opportunity to start clearing the table, with everyone’s help. “Who wants coffee?” she asked, counting the hands that were going up.
“Do you have tea?” Josh asked.
“Sure?—do you want to see what kind?”
“It’s for Eliza.”
Maren’s eyebrows drew together, and she glanced between them.
Eliza stood. “I can fix my own. No worries, Maren. Not sure I even want any.” She added that last remark simply to be contrary. Why did Josh think he knew what she wanted? She picked up her plate and brought it to the kitchen sink to rinse it before putting it in the dishwasher. Then she found the tea bags and used the fancy hot-water dispenser in the fridge. Why cut off her nose to spite her face?—or, rather, cut off her tea bag to spite her palate?
She had just sat back down when Rhiannon came to the table with the cake Eliza had brought. “Oh my God, this is the absolute best!” she exclaimed. She set it down beside the pumpkin pie, and Jeremy followed with the apple pie in one hand and a handful of forks in the other.
“So much for my diet,” Thad moaned. “I’ll take a slab of each, please.”
There was a clatter of coffee cups and dessert plates as everyone descended on the sweets as if they hadn’t already stuffed themselves with dinner.
Olivia slid the server under the apple pie she was slicing. “Eliza?” she offered.
“No thanks. I actually have this weird aversion to baked apples.”
“It’s true. It’s one of my sister’s many eccentricities,” Scott quipped, returning to the table. Eliza glanced at him to try to read his expression, but his face was closed. He did, however, appear to be avoiding her gaze.
The chatter over dessert was more subdued. Everyone was in a bit of a food coma. Eliza, however, was on edge, wondering about Scott’s call with Carol. She was finding it hard to concentrate on Luke and Olivia talking about their honeymoon plans. As soon as they paused, she pushed herself back from the table.
“I don’t want to break up the party, but I have an early start tomorrow. I’m going to head out,” she said, standing up.
Scott looked directly at her for the first time since his phone call. “Actually, I need to talk to you about something. Can you wait?”
Maren’s eyes bounced between them like Ping-Pong balls.
“I guess.” She looked at her watch. “It is late, though.”
Apparently reading the rising tension level in the room, Olivia and Luke rose. “We should head out, too. Thank you so much for dinner. It was amazing.”
And then everyone else was getting up, rubbing overstuffed bellies, and hugging Maren and Scott. Eliza brought her now-empty mug to the sink and eyed the half-full wine bottles. Probably not the best idea to switch back.
Josh sidled up to her at the sink. “Are you hiding out?” he asked.
She looked around. “I don’t think I can fit into one of the cabinets.”
“Do you know what Scott wants to talk to you about?”
She swallowed. “I have a bad feeling it’s about Carol and my legal action.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
The truth was, she did. But as she pictured the last time Josh had been in the kitchen, when Scott had given him Shira’s number, she knew that it was precisely because she wanted him to stay that she needed him to leave.
“No. You should go.”
He touched her arm. “Are you sure?”
She hated how right his fingertips felt on her skin, and she pulled back. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”
Josh flinched at the clipped sound of her tone. “Okay. Got it,” he said, his hands raised in apology.
As he backed up a step, Eliza saw Scott in the doorway over his shoulder. “Everything okay in here?” he asked.
“All good,” she said, hating the pang she felt as she turned away from Josh. “What do you want to talk about?”