Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“You look tired,” she says. Her eyes soften, and I want to dive into their sea-green comfort.
“I’m fine,” I say. But I’m not fine. I’m hungry. And exhausted.
“What are you having? I think I’m going for the Persuasion.”
“You usually get the Great Gatsby.”
“Right,” she says. “But things change. I’m trying new things.” She stops herself from saying more, and I can see her mind whirring. “Not all new things. Just new small things. Clearing out stuff in my apartment I don’t like. You know, that kind of thing.”
“And new sandwich fillings?”
“Right. Yesterday I got a grinder—A Tale of Two Cities, I think it was called.”
“Wow,” I say, genuinely surprised.
She laughs. “I know. It’s not groundbreaking, but I figure we all live our lives in certain patterns, believing certain truths, and sometimes it’s good to push a little. Create new patterns and . . . I don’t know. Maybe it’s just about . . . seeing what’s in front of us. Seeing the routines and so-called truths and challenging them a little.”
I scan her face, trying to figure out if what she’s saying is aimed at me. Is she trying to send me a message? There’s nothing in her expression except pure honesty. Pure openness. Because that’s who Lucy is.
“I threw out a bowl,” she says, like that will answer all the questions I have. “And a mirror. And some awful pants my Mom said looked nice on me. If I were a fifty-six-year-old woman, they probably would look nice, but I’m not there yet. I tossed some faux flowers I bought because I saw them in a magazine and thought they would look nice, but they never really looked good. So they’ve gone too.”
I nod at her, because I’m not quite sure what she wants me to say and I just like to look at her. I like to hear what she has to say. I like being close to her.
I miss her.
“You probably think I’m nuts for keeping all this stuff I don’t like. It just made sense to me for a long time. But all of a sudden, I’ve seen this crazy behavior, and I can’t unsee it, you know?”
She nods ahead, and I realize the line has moved forward and we’re nearing the front. Except I don’t want it to be our turn, because then she’ll have to go back to her office and I’ll have to go back to mine.
“Did you decide?” she asks. “You usually get the Jane Eyre, don’t you?”
Yeah. I always get the pastrami. I don’t know why I’ve gotten to the front of the line twice and still been undecided. It’s always the same answer.
“I want to hear more about you,” I blurt. “Can you stay? Eat lunch with me?”
Her face breaks into an enormous smile, and it’s so infectious the corners of my mouth turn up. It aches slightly, like my mouth is out of practice. “Sure,” she says. “If you have time.”
We pay for our sandwiches and try to find a table. When we’ve eaten here before, we always head for the shade, but the only table available is in the sun. “Are you okay in the sun?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I really am.”
We take a seat and unwrap our sandwiches in silence. I don’t mind that it’s a little bit awkward, just so long as she’s close. I get a faint whiff of roses, and I feel the muscles in my jaw unlock. Lucy is just what I needed today. She’s who I’ve needed these last weeks. She’s light and sunny and exactly the opposite of who I thought she was when I first met her.
“Did you see the pictures of Ed and Katherine?” she asks, filling the silence. “They look like they’re having the most fantastic time.”
I pull out my phone. I don’t think I’ve bothered to look at the photos.
“It’s on our group chat,” she explains, as if she knows I won’t have seen it.
I bring up the pictures. Sunshine. Sand. Smiles. “You’re right. They look happy.”
As soon as I say the words, I’m aware of how not happy I am. I’m not happy at all. The last few weeks, I’ve just been surviving. Is this my life now? Is this all I’m going to have? A snatched lunch every few weeks with the woman who’s meant more to me than anyone I can ever remember? A few precious moments of sunshine before the shadows of the surrounding buildings cast me into darkness again? Is this the price I have to pay to keep the business Ed and I have built afloat?
“I’m going up to Massachusetts this weekend.” She pauses, and I realize she’s waiting for me to say whether I’m going.
“Oh, yeah. Ed invited me, but I can’t make it. It’s my mom’s birthday, so I’m going back to Pennsylvania.”