by Tif Marcelo
“Hey, how did it go? How are you, Ad?” Regina asked, though she looked at Sophie for the answers. Their friend might have been awake and walking, but Adelaide was far from well. Her usual tidy hair had a knot in the back that Sophie wouldn’t be able to untangle without a good brushing. Her skin had a dull sheen, a true sign of dehydration, and her hand hovered protectively over her belly.
“Surgery went well.” Sophie grunted while guiding Adelaide to the love seat in the living room, then gently lowering her. “But recovery was a bit tough. She vomited and is still nauseous, though she’s finally able to tolerate some fluids. Her pain level is pretty high.”
“Oh.”
“We’re going to have to keep a close eye on her.” She looked down at Adelaide. “Do you want to lie down here, or upstairs in your room? What do you think, mama?”
“Here, please,” Adelaide said. They were the first words she’d uttered since she left the hospital. Her voice was hoarse and strangled. “Genevieve?” She began to lie down.
“She’s sleeping now, honey,” Regina said, though she turned halfway toward the kitchen. “I can bring her in, though, if you—”
“No, I don’t want to wake her. Can you give me my phone? I promised Matt I would call as soon as I got home.”
Sophie grabbed Adelaide’s phone from her purse. “Let me guess what the code is…”
“Your birthday,” Regina said at the same time as Sophie.
“Don’t pick on me!” Adelaide raised a finger in a humorous warning before pressing on the screen. “Please, Regina, can I have an ice cream sundae and a root beer float?”
“I can whip that up. And how about a chocolate cake to go?” Regina countered, grinning.
“With buttercream frosting,” she mumbled, her phone against her ear.
“Well, at least we know you’re feeling less nauseous.” Sophie made quick work of tucking Adelaide in with a quilt that had been rolled up in a basket next to the sofa. And as soon as Adelaide’s head hit the decorative gingham pillow, her eyes shut.
“That is going to be a short conversation.” Sophie raised her eyes to Regina, noticing that she was wearing one of Adelaide’s vintage aprons. Her nose picked up the scent of something cooking in the kitchen. Then, her traitorous stomach growled.
Despite having eaten a hefty breakfast and a solid lunch at the hospital dining facility, her tummy was screaming for attention. It had been a while since Sophie’d nursed an adult. All of her patients were children, most often in the care of their parents. Earlier, she’d had to assist Adelaide to the bathroom, keeping her from hitting the floor, and her middle-aged bones felt every bit of effort.
“I did make food, for real. Not exactly cake, because I figured that would be cruel. But if you wanted a little snack…” Regina said, reading Sophie’s mind. She sashayed toward the kitchen, in full understanding that Sophie was going to follow. Sophie loved food. She also remembered loving Regina’s food.
When Sophie entered the kitchen, she encountered a room that had been turned upside down and inside out. Fresh vegetables decorated the countertop, and plates, cups, and utensils were out, buffet style. A large and a small pot piped tendrils of steam into the air, and the coffee maker dripped the playful song of java being brewed. “Wow.”
“I took Genevieve out for a quick stroller ride—we both needed the break from being indoors—and the farmers market was today. Which, by the way, was interesting. Random moms with kids also in strollers stopped me because they recognized Gen but not me, and all of them expressed some kind of disappointment about her canceled party. There was one woman I recognized in the Genevieve binder. Her name’s Missy, and she’s a real estate agent. Did you know that Adelaide stages homes for fun? She’s been working for free.”
“She didn’t say anything about that.” Sophie shrugged. “But Adelaide mentioned the party. It made sense to cancel it.”
“I know…” Regina’s voice trailed off. “Except I feel bad about Gen not having a big to-do. You remember how grand her first birthday was. Adelaide set up a Pinterest board to public view just for it.”
“Not our decision to make. She’s the mama.”
“Right.” Regina sighed. “You’re right. Anyway, I thought I would make a quick vegetable soup, and then decided, I might as well make a meat sauce for pasta tomorrow. The soup’s ready, and I picked up a baguette and sourdough bread. Want some?”
The question wasn’t whether Sophie would be able to eat, but if she would eat with Regina. While at the moment, Regina seemed amiable, they both were undeniably on shaky ground. But Sophie’s tummy twisted with warning that she would soon be hangry, so she said, “Sure. All of it, please.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Regina busied herself getting a bowl together while Sophie slipped into a seat at the round antique kitchen table, surrounded by three different chairs.
Sophie examined them carefully. One was painted blue, one red, one white, with areas sanded down to the wood grain that made them look vintage and kitschy.
“Do you remember those chairs?”
“Hm?” Sophie looked up; Regina had her back to her. “They do look familiar.”
“We picked them up on the side of the road that one day, on one of our flea market trips, er, the flea market trips we tagged along on. Remember?”
“Wait.” Sophie frowned. “The free ones?”
“Yeah, I recognized the curve of the back in the chair you’re sitting in. It looks like a heart.”
Sophie turned in her seat and ran a hand over the wood. “They were gross, covered in soot.”
“I know, right? Not anymore.” Regina half laughed. “We could barely get them into that tiny car she had.”
“I think I still have a bruise from one of the chair legs that dug into me during the hour ride home.”
“It was a gorgeous day. I remember riding with the windows down. We had an argument about Fifty Shades of Grey.”
Sophie was taken back to the moment. Deployment had been underway, and loneliness and worry hovered in the background. The moments of laughter, of making plans about what to eat after their shopping trip, and then the book talk—her body softened at the recall. “I thought that there was something missing in Fifty Shades. People like what they like, and I’m not going to yuck their yum, but I was looking for more in terms of affection, you know?”
“I saw it differently. Grey showed affection in an unconventional way. Not every person shows love and commitment in the same manner. I mean, if anyone should know that, it’s you.”
Sophie frowned but didn’t bite. This was a standard, straightforward answer from Regina. She guessed that caterers didn’t get the same lessons on empathy as nurses did.
But, apparently, Regina wasn’t done. As she served the bowl of soup, she stuttered. “Wh-what I meant was that you and Jasper obviously were able to circumvent traditions. Look at the both of you, being partners for almost two decades, totally outlasting most marriages. You barely showed any PDA, and yet, your love is stronger than any I know. Anyway, who am I to say? I’m divorced and have a crush on an internet friend.”
“Internet friend?”
“It’s nothing.” Regina straightened. “Wait. Before you eat… can I take a picture?”
“Uh… okay?”
“It’s for my catering company’s page. Technically my manager’s taking on social media while I’m away, but this soup ended up so pretty, especially on Adelaide’s Fiestaware.” Regina was already in the process of tilting the phone and snapping several photos in sequence. Sophie waited patiently—she would never admit it but she followed Regina, though not officially, on social media, and she loved her food photos.
“How’s that going?” Sophie asked, testing the waters. “Your business?”
“Fine. Good.” Regina’s answer was curt, and as she thumbed the screen to post, she said, “All right. It’s all yours.”
“Aren’t you eating, too?”
“Believe me, I have
been eating all day, worried about Adelaide and trying to chase after Genevieve. I realized today that the only reason why I survived Miko’s baby- and toddlerhood was because I didn’t have a clue what was the right or the wrong thing to do. Today, I was with Gen for eight hours, and I’m paranoid that I’ve given her too much junk food or said something scathing.”
The nervous chatter from Regina harkened back to the past, to the ease with which they’d bantered, even when sometimes their views clashed. Sophie thought it touching that Regina had appreciated her and Jasper’s relationship despite her own divorce. It was a window of vulnerability that Sophie hadn’t seen in a long, long time. She eased into her response. “That’s what godmothers are for, right? What are we good for but to spoil? I tell the girls, as much as I can wait to be a grandmother, I also can’t wait to be one, so I don’t have to be in charge. I want to be able to be the good cop, for once.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I just didn’t want Genevieve to worry. She called for Ad a couple of times, and my answer was always, ‘Here, have something to eat!’”
Sophie laughed as she dipped the spoon in the soup, and as she brought it to her lips, her mouth began to water. Now that her kids were independent and always in some kind of activity away from home, she wasn’t cooking nearly as much as she used to, and this was a treat.
When the savory broth hit her taste buds, she sighed with relief, with gratitude. What came with it was warmth, comfort. Maybe this time with Regina wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe the rest of the next week would be like this, them on their best behavior. That would be good enough for her.
The doorbell rang.
“Are we expecting anyone?” Sophie asked, though already standing. She didn’t want for Adelaide to wake unnecessarily.
She saw a white van drive past the windows just as she arrived at the foyer. A package on the front step was addressed to both her and Regina. She lifted and shook the box.
“What is it?” Regina’s voice filtered from the kitchen.
Sophie examined the next-day-delivery sticker with narrowed eyes.
“That’s curious,” Regina commented, once Sophie brought the package to the foyer table. She came at the tape with her car keys and popped the flaps open.
Two books. Both Waiting to Exhale by Terry McMillan.
Sophie side-eyed Adelaide, who was snoozing away. “She didn’t waste any time.”
In front of her, Regina groaned, face dropping into a hand. “Did you say yes to this crazy idea for a book club?”
“What else could I have said?”
Regina crossed her arms. “Don’t you see what she’s trying to do? She’s trying to fix it. Fix us.” Then, to Sophie’s horror, Regina stomped over to the couch and nudged Adelaide.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sophie scream-whispered.
“If she can’t follow the rules, then I won’t, either.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Adelaide
Adelaide gasped at Regina’s angry face inches from hers as she crashed into a wave of consciousness.
“You keep pushing it, Adelaide,” Regina said.
Pushing it? What in the heavens is she talking about?
“Leave her alone, Reggie. She’s in pain, for God’s sake.” Sophie’s voice filtered from farther away. Adelaide rubbed her eyes, focusing them. Sophie walked into the room.
“I don’t care that she’s in pain—well, I do care, but if she’s insisting on forcing the issue, then let’s discuss it.” Regina propped both hands on her hips. “Are you lucid, Adelaide?”
“I think so.” Adelaide blinked to clear the fuzz in her head, and the slow roll of her memory recounted the day’s events. She had been in the hospital, then she’d come home. Everyone seemed fine when she walked in. The house had been quiet, but right now, it was like she’d turned on a reality show smack in the middle of a fight scene.
“There will absolutely be no book club. Sophie should never have agreed for the both of us. And then you buying the books before you even asked? It’s rude.”
Oh… oh. Adelaide now understood. “I wanted…” She started but couldn’t finish the sentence. Not when she couldn’t sit upright. Not when she wasn’t well enough to explain, fully, that what had happened between them wasn’t as straightforward as the two of them assumed it was.
“Do you think this is a game?” Regina turned to Sophie.
“Don’t look at me,” Sophie said. “I walked into this place clueless, too.”
Regina waved her away. “I appreciate what you’re attempting to do here, Adelaide. I know that you’ve been trying to get Sophie and me to make up. But I don’t want to make up, and do you know why?”
From where she was lying, Adelaide could see that Sophie had moved to the periphery of the room, near the window that looked out into the street. Her profile was illuminated from the streetlamp outside.
She looked sad.
So Adelaide sat up, and she felt every muscle as it contracted and relaxed. She’d known that at some point during this trip, they would have this conversation, that the truth would come out. She just didn’t think it would be while she was getting over her anesthesia. But she would try to pay attention.
In the silence, Regina continued. “Because Jasper, your partner, Sophie, smeared my husband’s reputation, which resulted in his reassignment to another duty station much earlier than expected, thereby leading to the end of my marriage. That’s why.”
From the window, Sophie snickered.
Adelaide’s head began to pound as she tried to keep up with the conversation. What she needed was two seconds to jump in. “I…”
“You think this is funny?” Regina’s voice echoed through the room.
“No, just inaccurate.” Sophie turned back from the window. “Your marriage ended because your husband cheated on you and got caught, and then he was moved after you had Miko. That was what changed your life’s course. I didn’t cause it. You needed a scapegoat, and you picked me. You were so intent on blaming me, that you refused every apology I tried to make, even refused packages sent to you for Miko’s birthday. As far as I’m concerned, as much as you want to, quote, ‘have at it,’ you might find that your take on history is revisionist.”
Adelaide shut her eyes against the noise, against this fight. She just didn’t have the physical energy. She could barely form the words to explain the reason why she had called the both of them here.
Exhaustion had taken up every cell in her body. What pulled at her was sleep.
One nap. One nap was all she needed and she would tell them straightaway.
So Adelaide did what she’d done so well the last decade. She shut her eyes and told herself that she was fine, that everything was fine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Regina
Day Before Thanksgiving, 2011
Regina knew her body, and something wasn’t right. The last couple of days, she’d felt alternately full, then nauseous, then starving. When she got out of bed that morning, her belly grumbled and her legs felt like they were tied down with bricks. And now at her daily 6:00 a.m. unit physical training, bleary-eyed and in her matching Army gray sweats, beanie, and black gloves, she hoped this sickness would simply pass. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and there was going to be some major eating at their combined book club and Thanksgiving dinner to discuss The Passage, and she intended to enjoy it.
“So what do you think? Should I go out with him?” Next to her, First Lieutenant Cynthia Kelkirk jogged in time. The formation had been broken up into running groups, and she and Cynthia had naturally partnered up because of their similar mile pace and because they shared an office cubby.
Regina woke from her hazy trance. “Oh, who?”
“You’re not listening! And we’re not even going fast. Porter and Gaines got ahead of us half a mile back.”
Porter and Gains were the slowest soldiers in Charlie Company, but at the moment, Regina didn’t even have the energy to care. “Sorry.”
>
“Pshhh, you’re not sorry,” Cynthia said in jest, then did a double take. “Are you sick? You’re looking pretty ragged.”
“Gee, thanks.” Regina grinned, or tried to, anyway. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
Cyn snorted and exaggeratingly placed an extra foot between them. “Well, don’t give it to me. I’ve no time to be sick. T minus sixty-eight days before I’m out of the Army, thirty-eight days if I decide to use up my leave. I’ve got appointments up the yang to prep me for my transition out.”
“You’re making me sad. There’ll be no one to complain to about the weather.”
“Yeah, I’m not going to miss Upstate New York.”
“What’s the plan, then? For after?” Regina licked her lips, and then cursed herself because her lips felt even colder.
“Anything. Everything.” Cyn smiled. “But seriously, I’m meeting with a headhunter after work on Tuesday—he’s got leads for a couple of government contractor positions.”
Grunting a greeting, they passed a walker, a soldier with an injury. The pause allowed Regina to take a deeper breath. She wasn’t lying to Cyn when she said she was sad. She was just getting used to the deployment routine, and one of her comforts was having Cyn, at work, to chat with.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there, too,” Cyn said. “What did you and your husband decide on? I know the two of you were discussing what’s next.”
“We’d like to PCS out of here at the same time to the next duty station—that’s, like, the priority. So far, so good. We’re supposed to move this summer. Assignments branch is working on the logistics now. There might be jobs at Fort Benning for the both of us, and I have my mom, who lives right down the road in Columbus, and his parents are in Savannah.” Regina coughed against a tickle in her throat, to keep herself from delving into the fact that these decisions had not been easy to come to. She and Logan had fought through most of it, tooth and nail. Regina wanted to head to duty stations where she’d never been to, whereas Logan wanted familiarity. But she also knew that the dual active-duty life required negotiation. “Do you ever feel guilty?”