Chapter 31
HOLLY
I glance around me, at couples strolling leisurely to or from restaurants, groups talking animatedly about their day or evening plans, at stragglers making their way home after a long day.
I’m perched on a low wall a block from the hotel.
When the evening crowds had taken the noise level up to can’t-hear-myself-stew, I paid for my drink and started walking back to the hotel. Except I can’t face Anna. Not yet.
What I need is Jack. I calculate the time difference then place the call anyway. “Hey you.” Jack picks up on the second ring and I feel my shoulders drop a notch the instant I hear his voice. He has that effect on me.
“Hey back. Am I interrupting anything?” I ask.
“Yes, but I always make time for a beautiful woman.” His voice is soft and friendly and slightly flirty, and I say a thousand thank-yous to the gods of marriage for bringing us together.
Normally, I’d have some snappy comeback, but I’m fresh out of snap.
“Oh, Jack.”
“What’s wrong, Hols?”
He picks right up that I’m off my game, and I crumble under the concern in his voice and the weight of this trip. “Everything,” I cry. “We lost Zoe.”
“Honey, I know how difficult this is. The loss was bound to catch up and knock the wind out of you.”
“No, Jack, we literally lost Zoe.” Through hyperventilating gasps of air, I replay the horrible scene on the cliff. “The worst part, Anna and I were finally in a good place. And then she pulls another Anna stunt. I can’t believe I let my guard down. I knew something like this would happen.”
There’s quiet on the other end, although I can hear the tap-tapping of a pen on the desk. Jack’s tell that he’s mulling a response that will not go down easily.
Finally, he says, “Where are you?”
“Greece?” The question catches me off guard. He knows where I am.
“No shit. I meant, where are you exactly right now? I’m trying to figure out what I’m hearing in the background.”
“I’m sitting outside. I can’t face her yet. I’m still furious.”
“Furious about?”
“Did you not listen to me?” I snap. I don’t mean it. I can’t help it.
“Yes, I listened,” he placates. “But what I heard is that you and Anna were having a nice time, getting along better than you have in years, and from what you described, it was an unfortunate accident.”
“Accident?” I spit the word out like the sour lemon rind I’d accidentally put in my mouth earlier along with the olive. “The only accident is me putting any faith in her.”
“Calm down, Holly.”
“Excuse me?” There are a few things you never say to an upset woman and that is at the top of the list.
“Holly.” He softens his tone. “You’re not listening to me.”
“I am.” I wasn’t.
“Holly.” He repeats my name as an exasperated sigh. “You and Anna have one hell of a history. Despite positive steps forward, there was little doubt you’d encounter a hiccup or two.”
“A hiccup? Spilling Zoe’s ashes all over our picnic was not a hiccup.”
“You’d already eaten, right?” he asks in a low voice.
“JACK!”
“Okay, okay. Here’s how I see it. You were having a nice afternoon, enjoying a beautiful spot. Am I on track so far?”
“Yes,” I answer with attitude.
“Anna was taking pictures that you,” he emphasizes the last word and I grit my teeth, “encouraged. You both recognized the significance of that spot and decided it was the place to celebrate Zoe. Anna opened the urn and set it down while you were reaching for the scoop, correct?”
“Yes,” I say again with more sulk than sass.
“If the urn was next to you on the ground, why did you jump up?”
“Because Anna was standing at the edge of the cliff and lost her balance,” I say as if I just found out the answer on a test I got wrong. Damn him.
The scene plays in my head in accusatory slow motion.
It wasn’t all Anna’s fault. I did encourage her to take pictures.
I was the one who tripped over the urn. Could she have been more careful?
Yes. Could I have been more careful? Yes.
Was I right to yell at her? Yes. Was I wrong to yell at her? Yes.
“I hate you,” I exhale into the phone.
“I love you, too,” Jack answers. “You’ve come a long way in a short amount of time. Give yourself some slack. But don’t lose focus on why you’re there. Find a way to see this through, together. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”
“I hate that you’re always right,” I say, exhausted now that my anger has defused.
“I know, I’m infuriating that way.” Despite myself I smile at the playfulness in his voice.
On the beach below, bonfires are replacing beach umbrellas and families are replaced by couples and small groups of friends.
Anna, Zoe, and I had joined a group from New Zealand that first trip.
We’d stayed up most of the night talking and laughing, the fire burning in the middle of the circle of people while the waves lapped at the sand yards from where we sat.
It had been a magical night in what had been an amazing couple of days.
I’d fallen in love with Greece and had declared it my favorite of our vacations so far.
And then the party and the photo and the fight.
This morning, I’d felt some of that initial love for this beautiful country and a warmth toward the friend I’ve missed so desperately in my life.
“Hey, Jack, I need to go.” Last time I ran away and shoved the hurt into a tight little compartment in my heart, exactly as I’d done with Kimmie Walker in middle school.
Both events changed the core of who I am.
I can’t allow that to happen again. Anna and I have been through too much, and if there’s anything I’ve learned from the last week and a half, it’s that I was the best version of myself when Zoe and Anna were in my life.
The few glimpses I’ve seen of that Holly on this trip have been a bittersweet reminder that I miss that version of me. And god help me, I’ve missed Anna.