Girls' Night Out_A Novel

by Liz Fenton

  “He thinks I’m responsible. That even if I did lose my memory—which I think he doubts, too—I might not recall hurting her,” Natalie said, obviously trying to hold it together. “Kind of like what your friend Annie said.”

  “She didn’t mean—” Lauren felt horrible. Why had she said anything about Annie’s theory?

  “Yes, she did. She didn’t believe me. Nobody believes me. My best friend is dead, and now I’m a suspect.” Natalie started to cry. “I didn’t kill her.”

  “I know you didn’t,” Lauren said, pushing away the guilt that she’d also suspected Natalie earlier. But there was no way she could have hurt Ashley. Seeing her now, distraught, broken, she couldn’t imagine she had anything to do with it.

  “Do you really believe that?” Natalie asked, wiping at her tears.

  “I do. And I’m sorry I questioned you,” Lauren said, putting her hand over Natalie’s, thinking again about the terrible words she’d said to Ashley. Had she driven her to harm herself? “Do you think she might have jumped?”

  Natalie took a long pause before responding. “It crossed my mind today when we were searching—could she hurt herself? The Ashley I knew would never do that. But she didn’t tell me about Jason. Maybe there were other things I didn’t know.”

  Lauren folded her arms over her stomach as if to protect it. “I just can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “I know,” Natalie said quietly. “What if we never find out what really happened?” She choked back another sob. “And I rot in prison here.”

  “That is not going to happen. They still have to find Marco. Why would he take off if he were innocent?”

  “I have no idea. And we probably never will,” Natalie said.

  Lauren couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Natalie to be hit hard with two pieces of horrible news. Ashley was gone and Natalie was a suspect. How could the cops be so cruel as to accuse her while she was identifying the body? Had they no shame? “Are you okay?”

  Natalie squeezed her eyes shut, tears spilling out from under her lids.

  “Sorry, that was a terrible question. Of course you’re not.”

  Natalie opened her eyes. “It was beyond anything I could ever describe, being there. Seeing her. Jason is in so much pain. He’s calling Hannah and Abby now.” She lay on the bed. “My heart hurts. I literally feel a burning in my chest.”

  “It’s going to hurt for a very long time,” Lauren said, then added, “Maybe always.” She lay back next to Natalie and stared at the ceiling fan, her insides feeling as if they were being wrung like a wet towel. She couldn’t believe Ashley was gone—and not just gone, but never coming back. Tears slid down her cheeks. She clenched the sheets between her fists, images of their final terrible fight at La Cantina playing in a loop in her head. She’d let her grief become an uncontrollable anger when Geoff died. And what had it helped? Now, here she was, a year later, with more death. More remorse. More anger. And nowhere for any of it to go.

  “I hate how things were left so unsettled with her,” Natalie said.

  “I was just thinking that,” Lauren said. “I feel sick for being so stubborn. For not just forgiving her. That’s all she wanted, and I just wouldn’t do it. Not at El Castillo, and then again I refused her at La Cantina. God, the things I said to her, Nat!” She stifled a sob. “Did Ashley tell you what happened up at El Castillo?”

  Natalie nodded.

  “I figured she had. She told me about Jason’s abuse, and I just snapped. She was being so hypocritical, or so I thought at the time. Now I wish I could go back, give her a hug, and tell her I’m sorry he was such an ass.”

  “It was hard to find that out. I had no idea it was going on. And honestly, I got a little caught up in her telling you before me. How stupid was that?” Natalie said.

  “When were we ever going to grow up? We were always begging for her to like each of us better. Like two puppies wanting to be adopted by the same person.”

  “I know,” Natalie said sadly. “I hate that we were like that.”

  Lauren felt disgusted by all the time they’d wasted, jockeying for position within their own friendships, rather than just enjoying them.

  Natalie turned toward her. “I need to tell you something.”

  Lauren felt a rush of dread flood her body. She didn’t want to hear more bad news. “Okay,” she said.

  “She wanted to apologize to you the night of the funeral.” Natalie closed her eyes briefly, then opened them. “And I told her not to.”

  Lauren let herself swallow the information slowly. Let the news work its way through her. Let her heart and mind process it, forcing away the angry thoughts. She could not allow herself to do what she did when Geoff died—to let her rage settle on someone who could still feel it—like Natalie. But she didn’t know if she could control it. Her anger always had a way of working its way out of her. Finally, she spoke. “Why?”

  “I told myself that I was being protective of Ash, but I should have stayed out of it. I’m sorry. You two might have mended things then, and we wouldn’t have even come here on this trip. So many things would be different.”

  “Why couldn’t you have stayed out of it?” Lauren’s chest tightened. She breathed slowly—in and out, in and out. She didn’t want to explode, but Natalie was right. Everything could have been different. Ashley would still be alive.

  “It’s going to make me sound awful if I tell you,” Natalie said.

  Lauren looked at her sallow face. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. She took a deep breath. Finally, she spoke. “You can tell me.” The cycle had to stop. Somewhere, somehow, they needed to figure out how to be the friends to each other that they hadn’t been to Ashley. So whatever she was about to say, Lauren would just have to accept.

  “I wasn’t sure I wanted you guys to make up. I was upset with you for how you treated her, and I saw it as an opportunity to have her all to myself.” Natalie rubbed her eyes. “It sounds so bad when I say it out loud.”

  Lauren’s instinct was to scream at Natalie for what she’d done. But she was tired. Tired of all the arguing, the negativity. “It’s okay,” she forced out, even though it really wasn’t. But she’d get there eventually.

  “I’m sorry,” Natalie said. “If I hadn’t—”

  “We can’t play the what-if game. We just can’t. Please don’t beat yourself up over it.” They could drive themselves mad going over those scenarios. She’d already done that with Geoff, for months. She still did. If she hadn’t seen Ashley at lunch that day. If she hadn’t flinched when Ash touched her bruise. If, if, if.

  “Lauren?” Natalie said. “I am so sorry. About everything. I promise, moving forward, to be up-front about everything.”

  Lauren drew in a long breath. “I agree. We have to be.” She looked at Natalie. “We need to be strong. For Ashley. For her girls. Even for Jason.” Lauren looked away. “He will have to live with how he treated her. And honestly, so will we.”

  “I’m sorry, Lauren. I’m sorry that I’ve always kept you out here.” Natalie stretched her arm over the side of the bed. “When you should’ve been here.” She touched her chest. “She had such a power over me,” she said, her voice breaking.

  “She had a power over everybody,” Lauren said. “When Geoff died, I just could not get over the fact that I hadn’t made the decision to confront him on my own. That she had to tell me to do it. And I resented her for it. You know? And then holding on to that rage toward her became my power over her. Or so I thought.” Lauren choked on her sobs. “Now I realize none of it really mattered. He was gone, and I should have been concentrating on the people who were still here.”

  Natalie bowed her head, tears falling down her cheeks. “I got to the same place with her—finally tired of letting her call all the shots for us, our business, and in many ways, for me. My life ended up looking like it did because I listened to her every step of the way about BloMe. And that made me so upset. But really, it was my own fault that I let
it get that far. That I let her control me.” Natalie quieted for a moment. “I’m going to miss her. Controlling or not, I loved her. She was my best friend.”

  “Me too.”

  “What do we do now?” Natalie whispered.

  Lauren felt the same dull ache in her chest as when Geoff had died. The disbelief that turned to realization and then into despair, time the only path to healing. “We take one breath at a time,” she said, and pulled Natalie in, letting her sob into her shoulder until there was nothing left.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  THE NIGHT

  ASHLEY

  Natalie pulled her hand away. “I can’t do it. I have no idea what’s in that bottle. And neither do you!”

  “He just explained it,” Ashley said, exasperated. It reminded her of the time they’d been passing around Jell-O shots at a party in college and Natalie refused to take one off the tray until the guy with the handlebar mustache and beer belly stated exactly what was in them.

  “That it’s made from a gum tree or whatever doesn’t tell me anything. How are we going to react? What if we overdose?”

  “We’re not going to OD. Come on, this could be the solution we’re looking for,” Ashley appealed again.

  “I can give you more detail about the drug if you’d like,” Marco said.

  Natalie glared at him. “Will you stay out of this? I think you’ve given me all the detail I need.”

  He shrugged, but said nothing.

  She turned to Ashley, her voice fiery. “I don’t get it. You’re ruining my life, and you want me to do drugs with you as a solution?” Natalie’s angry words echoed off the trees, landing in Ashley’s chest. First Lauren, and now Natalie. Her oldest friends, both ready to walk away from her.

  “You’re drunk,” Ashley said calmly. But her heart hurt. How many hurtful words would be hurled at her tonight? Because she felt like a fragile piece of china—one wrong move and she might break into a million tiny little pieces.

  “You’re right, I am,” Natalie said. “But that doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

  Ashley didn’t answer. She turned and walked to the edge of the cenote, staring down at the water. What was that thing people said? That if you are the common denominator in fights, then the problem must lie with you? First Lauren. Then Natalie. Clearly, she was the one doing something wrong.

  “You have nothing to say?” Natalie asked.

  “What do you want to hear?” Ashley turned around, her voice hoarse.

  “That you’ll sell the company,” Natalie said, her voice firm.

  “I can’t say that.”

  “But you promised me that first night here that you’d think about it,” Natalie pleaded, walking toward her, slipping and then catching herself.

  Marco stood beside Ashley. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but Natalie had already shut him down.

  “And I did. I really did. I need you to know that.”

  “When, exactly? While walking on the beach with Marco? Or in between bites of your beloved carne asada tacos?” Natalie curled her lip.

  “Yes—and no. I did talk to him about it. He actually agrees with you, believe it or not.” Ashley turned her body to face him. “He thinks starting over would be a good thing.”

  “I knew I liked you.” Natalie looked his way and deadpanned.

  “But my answer is still no,” Ashley added after a beat. Her heart fell when she saw the pained look on Natalie’s face. But she couldn’t change her mind. She needed to be strong—hang on to what was rightfully hers. Even if that made her the common denominator here too.

  Marco took the opportunity to speak. “What’s going on between you two now—this negativity. This toxicity. This is the exact reason you both need to drink this.” He held the bottles up. “It’s clear you both need some peace. Give your problems to the gods. The Maya worshipped both the upper- and underworld to achieve balance. To them, death was not the end of life. Rather, it was an opportunity to be reborn. They believed that when you are sacrificed, you go underground for five years and then your soul comes back in different ways—that your soul had to pass a series of tests in the underworld to achieve a rebirth in the middle world.”

  Natalie let out an angry snort. “Not happening.”

  Ashley eyed Natalie, searching for a trace of the girl who would forgive her for almost anything. Like when she’d borrowed and then lost the beloved gold hoop earrings Natalie’s grandfather had brought back from Italy. Or when she’d accidentally sent a text to their most important vendor, calling her a whorebag, thinking she had been firing it off to Natalie. That’s what they did—made mistakes and then forgave each other for them. But had it become too lopsided—Ashley doing more hurting than Natalie had capacity to forgive?

  Ashley exhaled, knowing she had partially created the person she was looking at. That she’d worn Natalie out, in that way she knew she could. Jason had been right—she’d manipulated her into taking on more responsibility than she should have in the last year. She’d played on Natalie’s emotions, complimenting her on her strengths in cutting manufacturing costs, in targeting vendors, in developing sales strategies, knowing the exact words to use to get her to agree. To get her to understand that she wasn’t replaceable. For her to feel the enormous pressure that came with knowing they’d never find someone who could fill her shoes. She did this even though she knew Natalie was already maxed out.

  She had listened as Natalie vented that she was so stressed she had to take Ambien to sleep each night. But had Ashley really heard her? She looked the other way when she saw how the long hours were affecting Natalie’s relationship with Ben. Because Ashley knew she couldn’t run BloMe without her. That she didn’t want to run it without her. Their partnership was the catalyst for their incredible success. Break it apart and they were no longer special. How could Natalie not see that? How could she walk away from their company? From Ashley? She tried again. “Please, Nat, take the balché with me. Let’s see if it helps. At this point, what could it hurt?”

  “I never even tried pot in college. Remember? And I’m certainly not going to drink some mysterious green liquid now. You go right ahead. And I’ll stay here, making sure you stay safe, like I always do.” Natalie gave her a flat look.

  Ashley swallowed her tears, frustration, and anger, then wordlessly took one of the bottles from Marco. She held it carefully as she climbed back down the wooden ladder to the warm water, and Marco followed close behind. She swam over to the side of the cenote, grabbed onto a branch growing out of the limestone rock, and drank the liquid slowly, trying not to gag as she swallowed. She needed answers. Now.

  She floated on her back in the water, closed her eyes, set her intention, and waited.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  THREE DAYS AFTER

  NATALIE

  “Natalie?”

  She tried to talk when Ben answered the phone, but the words were caught in her throat, only sobs escaping through her lips. She saw Ashley’s sheet-white face again and started to cry harder.

  “Honey, are you okay? You’re scaring me,” he said, his voice rising.

  “She’s dead,” she managed, trying to catch her breath in between her heavy tears.

  “Oh my God,” Ben said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Natalie could hear Lucy and Meg in the background, asking what was wrong, Ben sucking in a sharp breath, telling them he needed a minute. She heard the familiar creak of their back door, and it made her heart ache not to be there with her family. Her marriage had suffered a huge blow, but was it too big to overcome? She didn’t think so. She had to hope that if Ben found out she’d made a horrible mistake, he’d stay by her side.

  “What happened to her?” he asked, once he was outside.

  Natalie told him what she knew in fits and spurts, her voice breaking every few sentences. “I need an attorney,” she said at the end.

  “You have Arthur.”

  “No, I need a Mexican attorney. Preferabl
y one who specializes in criminal law. I did a little research on the way back from the . . .” Natalie stopped, not wanting to say the word. “Anyway, I don’t think I should talk to the police again without an attorney present.”

  “This is crazy. How could they think you had anything to do with it? Do they know you’re her best friend and business partner? That you guys are practically sisters?”

  “They don’t care about any of that. They don’t believe anything I’ve said because I can’t prove I lost my memory. Officer Lopez actually said maybe I don’t remember bashing her head in!”

  Since he’d said the words to her at the morgue, Natalie had been trying to remember, trying to recall whether she had hit her.

  “Fuck,” Ben said. “He really said that?”

  “He did.” Natalie rubbed her sternum. Her chest felt like it was on fire. “And not just that, but also that I might have drugged myself as some sort of alibi—”

  “What the hell?”

  “Ben, I’m scared. I was probably the last one to see Ashley alive. Of course they’re looking at me—accusing me—thinking I killed her!” Natalie panicked, terrified by the notion that she could have snapped, that the reason she could’ve woken up wet was because she’d been in the water with Ashley.

  “They’re looking at you because that Marco guy is gone and there is no one else admitting to being with her. But they can’t prove a thing. If they could, they would have arrested you already.”

  “What if they’re right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if I did do something to her? What if I buried the truth about what happened because it’s too horrible to remember?” she asked. “Couldn’t that be a possibility? What if I did bash her head in?” She felt relieved to finally say it out loud. She waited for Ben’s response. He knew her better than anyone in the world. She needed him to defend her—now, more than ever. If her husband didn’t believe in her, that would be it. Because she certainly didn’t believe in herself right now.

  The silence on the other end of the phone while she waited for his answer felt like forever as she teetered between her anger at what he’d done with their finances and the need for his unwavering support.