by E. C. Diskin
On Tuesday morning, having slept only a few hours, Kat was still irritated by her conversation with Mack. She took care of the daily onslaught of e-mails and returned several work-related calls before Lina offered a welcome distraction—cranking up her music and schooling Kat on how to make a proper empanada. They figured Ryan had received enough lasagna at this point. Lina said he’d be ready for some Cuban love.
At two, Kat brought the food to Ryan. Lina wasn’t up to making the delivery, but Kat had to see him and was glad to not arrive empty-handed. After all, Shea had rallied the entire neighborhood to bring meals to Kat’s house four years earlier when she’d had knee surgery and been unable to walk for three weeks. In fact, it was Shea’s thing. Every time a friend faced a medical crisis, from broken bones to cancer, Shea started the e-mail chains and got the troops organized to help the affected family. And now Ryan was alone. Kat assumed the kids had returned to school, and she hoped someone else had taken on Shea’s role of looking out for the wounded.
Everything about passing the walkway between her old house and Ryan and Shea’s house stung. She looked at Shea’s north-facing window that faced Kat’s south-facing window. Thousands of conversations had bounced through those openings. “Get over here,” Shea once said from that window as Kat walked toward her front door one evening. “You’ve got to see this.” When Kat entered Shea’s, the living room had been transformed. She could only see blankets, at least six of them, propped and perched on top of a new furniture arrangement like a roof. “They spent all day on that,” Shea said with pride.
The boys had created a fort across the entire living room. Little Peter heard Kat’s voice. “Mom, Mom, come in!”
“Well,” Shea said, getting down to her knees, “come on. It’s awesome.” Of course, Kat had followed.
Now, as Kat rang the bell, she feared finding Ryan in a dark corner, shades drawn, Chinese takeout strewn all over the coffee table. Instead, Ryan answered the door in workout clothes, his face flushed, his hair wet with sweat, a water bottle in hand.
“Kit Kat!” he said with a big smile. He looked surprisingly well. He’d always had a little extra weight in his face and belly, nothing too serious, just the markings of a man who said yes to beer and burgers with regularity, but he looked about twenty pounds lighter than when they’d said good-bye in January.
“I’m sorry to pop in on you like this,” Kat said. “I just needed to hug you and bring you food.” She raised the tray. “Lina’s homemade empanadas.”
“Come in, Kat, please. I’m so glad to see you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I think we should skip that hug for now. I stink.” She laughed and agreed, and he led her into the kitchen. Kat explained that she was in town for work all week and staying with Lina for a few days.
When Ryan opened the fridge, Kat realized the troops had obviously rallied. Every shelf was filled with Tupperware, Pyrex, and tin pans. “I guess you didn’t need that, did you?” she said, nodding toward the dish he was now shoving into the tiny bit of unused shelf space.
“Why do you think I just went for a run?” he joked. “I’ve never been presented with so much food in my life. And, as luck would have it, I’m a stress eater.”
“I don’t know about that, Ryan. You look great. I hope that’s not awful to say.”
“Thanks,” he said, shutting the fridge and pounding his belly. “Pretty good, right? I lost a little weight before all this happened. Part of a New Year’s resolution. But I’d really like to avoid putting it all back on. Look,” he said, opening the freezer drawer to share the additional ten containers covered in frost. “I’m set for, like, three months.”
“Are you busy right now? Because I could make us some coffee while you go shower. I’d love to catch up. Or I can come back if you’d—”
“No, that’s a great idea. Thanks, Kat. I’ll be quick. You know where everything is. Make yourself at home.”
Kat got the coffeemaker started and browsed through the tinfoil-covered containers while she waited, amused by the labeling so many friends had provided. Each explained how long and at what temperature to heat the dish; some even included tips on what to have with it: Pairs well with a Caesar salad. It seemed absurd. He was not a child, and it was not a contest for who could present the best meal. But everyone’s heart was in the right place, she knew. And if it was a contest, it was clear that Evelyn would win. It had barely been a week, and there were three dishes from Evelyn in separate containers. Maybe she knew that daily casseroles were the best tonic.
A small mountain of condolence cards sat on the kitchen counter. Kat sat at the table and waited.
When Ryan returned to the kitchen, she stood, waving toward the cards. “These must make you feel good.”
“Yeah. That woman was loved by a lot of people. I don’t even know half those names!”
“Sorry I didn’t send a card, but I’m just . . . heartbroken,” Kat said. Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, determined not to cry.
“Me, too.”
They hugged and both took deep breaths before Ryan finally pulled back. “Come on.”
They went to the patio with their mugs. The flowerpots had not yet been filled for the summer season, and there was a good chance they never would be, but Shea had already put out all the summer furniture, done the spring cleanup, and readied the yard for entertaining. The air was humidity-free and crisp, and the budding greenery was hard to resist.
Ryan sipped his coffee, staring into the yard. “Had you spoken with her recently?” he asked.
“No.” She couldn’t say any more than that. She had nothing to offer, only questions. And she wasn’t even sure she had a right to ask them.
“So, you’re in town all week?” he asked, as if they could keep the conversation light.
“Yep. I’ve got some meetings at the hotel at the end of the week, but I’m staying with Lina for a few days.”
“Oh, speaking of, thank you for the hotel vouchers. Shea surprised me with those at Christmas. That was really generous.”
“My pleasure. Did you get to use any of them?”
He nodded, like he needed a moment to recall. “We did.”
Men. No details, just the facts. “Where did you go?”
Ryan looked toward the yard. “The one downtown,” he finally said. Staying at Kat’s hotel with Shea was probably the last thing he wanted to think about.
She didn’t want to make things worse or upset him, but since she had relevant information . . . She took the plunge.
“Ryan, do you know why Shea went to the island?”
“I know what you’re thinking, Kat. What everyone’s thinking.”
“What do you mean?”
“She lied about where she was going, she went somewhere by herself, far from home, and the pill bottle was empty. But it was an accident.”
“I agree. I can’t believe . . .”
His brows furrowed as if he didn’t even want Kat to use the word. “It’s what everyone’s thinking. Even the kids. They’re all looking at me, wondering if there were signs. It’s not what happened.”
Finally, someone who wasn’t dismissing this as suicide.
“As soon as we get the tox screen back, it’ll show that I’m right. It had to be an accident. We were fine. We were good, Kat. None of it makes sense . . . I can’t even believe she did that drive alone.”
“I know. She joked to me about highway narcolepsy.”
“Well, there was actually more to it. She never told you about her mom?”
“Yeah, she died when Shea was a teenager, right?”
“She fell asleep, driving alone on the highway. Shea had an irrational fear of doing that to her family. She never went more than a few hours. In twenty years, never . . .”
It was the right opening. She needed to tell him what Georgia had shared. Blake’s death had obviously been weighing heavily enough . . .
“But,” Ryan continued, “I’m never going to understand it. The innkeeper said s
he’d mentioned real estate.”
“And you didn’t know about that?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean anything. It was her business. She loved to look. And I’ve learned that someone drowns in a tub every day in America, and out west, where people are drinking alcohol in hot tubs, it happens like three times as often. People fall asleep or pass out and just slip under the water.”
He made it sound plausible.
“Did you know about the pills? Evelyn said something that suggested Shea was addicted.”
Ryan shook his head. He frowned as he sipped his coffee.
“I hope you know none of us are spreading rumors. We just miss her and spent the weekend together. It was hard not to share a little information, trying to make sense of everything.”
“Well, I’m surprised Evelyn said that.” His irritation at the rumor was obvious.
Kat suddenly felt guilty for even sharing it.
“I didn’t realize she’d shared the pill issue with anyone.”
“So it’s true?”
“Yes and no. Yes, there was an empty pill bottle, but no, she was not an addict. She got a prescription last spring, but she stopped because they made her feel a little too good. As far as I knew, she hadn’t had any pills in more than eight months. She wasn’t a drug addict, Kat.”
Kat nodded. “I’m sure it was an accident.” She didn’t know what else to say. She wondered if she should mention the man at the bar and whether he might have been a friend, but despite their twenty years of history, she felt like she was crossing a line. And how would it help? It might only make Ryan feel worse. Besides, the police had probably already told him.
The silence between them hung in the air, and Ryan’s gaze was frozen, focused on the fire pit deep in the yard. She couldn’t imagine being in his shoes, the utter devastation he must be feeling.
“Did you learn anything from her cell phone?”
“I couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s gone. It wasn’t in her room.”
“The police can get those records, though, right? They go to the cell company or something?”
“Yeah, they mentioned that. We’ll have to see. I think that takes a while, maybe months. And frankly, none of it really matters, at least to the police. Suicide or accident, I’m guessing it’s not a high-priority situation.”
Kat would be following up daily, trying to nudge the police to dig. He had to wonder if Shea had made calls or texted with anyone that day, if there’d been anything on her calendar, any notes or pictures. But nothing was going to bring her back. Maybe it was unfair to pull him into these spiraling inquiries.
She thought of Georgia, the panic in her eyes. It was possible that Shea had told Ryan about what happened with Blake back in November. Wouldn’t he feel better knowing why she’d returned to the island?
But maybe not. Maybe none of it mattered. Maybe telling him would just cause more pain.
“Well, it was nice to be back at Tori’s with everyone. Everyone shared stories—memories of meeting Shea, some of our silly antics. She was so important to so many of us, Ryan.”
Ryan nodded but remained quiet, drinking his coffee.
“Did Shea tell you much about that last girls’ trip in November?” she asked, attempting nonchalance.
“You weren’t on that trip, were you?”
“No, but the girls told me about it.” She couldn’t tiptoe anymore. “Okay, Ryan, I’m so sorry that I’m probably totally crossing the line, but it doesn’t feel right to act like I don’t know things that I know. Shea told everyone that weekend in November that you two were in trouble. She was pretty upset. I guess it got a little wild.”
Ryan took another sip of his coffee. Kat suddenly felt like a meddling busybody and quickly backpedaled. “I’m sorry, none of this is my business. I heard that things were better with you two, though, that’s my point. I don’t know why I keep talking.”
Ryan patted her knee and smiled. “It’s okay. Here’s the deal. You probably heard a different version from the women because, well, when Shea went to Ohio in November, she thought I was having an affair.”
“You weren’t?”
“No.” He avoided her eyes. It was starting to feel like no one could look her in the face. “This is a little embarrassing.”
“Ryan, I don’t want to pry.”
“It’s okay. I’d rather have friends know the truth than think I was cheating on her. Shea found some e-mails on my computer. She thought it was a relationship. But, actually, I’d fallen into a bit of a dark hole. I guess I figured that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, because I never physically touched anyone.”
“So, like an emotional affair?”
“Not exactly. Let’s just say some late-night online stuff became some live-streaming and conversation.”
Kat winced. “We’re talking porn?” she said carefully, embarrassed to suggest it if she’d misunderstood.
Ryan laughed. “Your reaction lets me know you’re not exactly up on the adult Internet world.”
Kat let out a giggle as well. “Not exactly. I think Facebook is as much online interaction as I can handle. Sometimes that’s too much for me.”
“Well, it’s out there. It’s easy to find, and it really screwed with my marriage.”
“But you guys worked through it?”
He nodded. “We did,” he said before looking away again.
“Well, that’s good.” She’d pried enough and felt like she was on the wrong side of the fence that had separated them for years. “None of this is my business, Ryan, and I’m glad that you two were doing better. Maybe that’s a comfort. I’m just not handling it all that well. I’m sorry for all the questions.”
“It’s okay.” He offered a weak smile. “So, did Dee go to Tori’s?”
“Yeah. She’s not handling this too well, either.”
Ryan nodded. “Did she tell you all about what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Charlie left her.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. I’m betting she blames Shea, too, so I’m guessing her emotions are pretty complicated right now.”
“Why?”
“Oh, Kat. If I were to tell you, you’d never look at me the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s just say that you always had a way of staying above the fray. This town can get pretty wild.”
Kat didn’t know what to say, and before she could decide, Ryan stood. “More coffee?” he said, arm outstretched.
She handed over her cup, and as he went to the kitchen for more, she walked into the yard for a better view of her old house, just beyond the cedar fence and blooming lilacs. The old pass-through they’d cut into the fence between them, back when the kids were little, was barely visible behind a new shrub. It was like a dog door for kids. At a happy hour a few years back, Dee had proved that she could fit through the door, too.
Kat noticed that the new owners had painted the siding on her house’s back addition. She and Mack had agonized about picking just the right shade of red to blend with the brick when they had that addition constructed. She was not a fan of the new owner’s choice. She wondered what else they might have done to her house.
When Ryan returned, he enlightened Kat on the wildness he had referenced before going for their refills. She listened, mouth agape, like a child being told there was no Santa, her illusions shattered. She’d lived twenty years in this town, feeling like she’d made such close friends, especially with Shea and Ryan, and yet in just the last few days, she’d realized there was so much she didn’t know. His stories reminded her of the car trip to Catawba, of Tori’s stories of her daughter’s escapades that made Kat appreciate her own ignorance. Houses had curtains and blinds for a reason, after all. She supposed he was only sharing now because there was safety in gossiping with an outsider—and that’s what she’d become.
But did Dee really blame Shea for l
osing Charlie? Could any of that have had something to do with Shea’s trip to the island? Someone knew something about that day, and it seemed like that person was a friend.
CHAPTER 14
January 7
AFTER THE KIDS WENT BACK to school, it was Shea’s turn to host the quarterly dinner party. She and Ryan were at their best among friends, laughing and relishing the escape from their quiet home, putting on their best faces. It was easy to throw all that baggage in the closet when friends came over. Even the thought of the party made Shea brush issues aside.
She’d tried to convince Kat and Mack to stay an extra week for the dinner, but Kat said it wasn’t possible. Shea had watched with sadness and envy as they drove away in their overstuffed van, away from icy sidewalks and assaulting cold air.
She’d planned the menu and set the table for eight two days ago. She loved nothing more than escaping into the world of hosting the perfect gathering, of attending to every detail. How bizarre that the girl who’d spent her teens lying on the grass, staring at the sky, pondering the meaning of life, and creating bucket lists of countries to explore would someday relish creating the perfect centerpiece.
But yesterday, cancellations started coming in. Tori said she had the flu, and Georgia had mistakenly double-booked. Shea didn’t buy that one, as it seemed Georgia was intentionally avoiding her. Left with just Dee and Charlie as guests, Shea wanted to reach out to both Evelyn and Lina.
Ryan was sitting in the living room, feet up, beer in hand, watching a game on TV. He scoffed at the suggestion to include the women, saying it would be like he was at a girls’ night. He muted the television. “Besides, it’s Saturday night. Don’t you think the singles have dates?”
“I doubt that,” Shea said. There was no way romance was among Lina’s priorities right now, and Evelyn had recently declared being sick of all men. “Evelyn told me she’d fallen for a married man. So she’s given up on the dating scene for now.”