Chương 13
Nothing terrible happened.
Sofia cried anyway.
Afterward she stood behind the reception tent eating cake directly from a napkin when someone said her name.
Daniel.
She had not seen him in nine months.
He wore a dark suit, no tie.
Hannah had invited him.
Of course she had.
Sofia looked toward the tent.
“I’m going to kill her.”
Daniel smiled.
“She warned me you might.”
“She should have warned me.”
“She said you would leave if she did.”
“That is also true.”
He kept several feet between them.
“You look good,” he said.
“Don’t.”
“Sorry.”
She sighed.
“You look okay.”
“High praise.”
“Take it.”
He did.
They listened to the band inside the tent.
Someone had chosen a terrible cover of a song both of them used to like.
Daniel said, “They’re murdering this.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe legally.”
“Don’t make legal jokes.”
“Fair.”
Sofia ate another bite of cake.
“How’s your mom?”
“Good. Annoyed with me this week, so normal.”
“Why?”
“I told her she can’t adopt another dog.”
“How many does she have?”
“Four.”
“She can’t adopt another dog.”
“Thank you.”
They stood in silence.
Then Daniel said, “I’m sorry.”
Sofia looked at him.
“For what?”
“The wedding.”
“That narrows it down.”
He almost smiled.
“I mean being here without warning.”
“That’s Hannah’s crime.”
“Okay.”
She studied him.
He seemed smaller somehow.
Not physically.
Less protected by his own certainty.
“How are you?” she asked.
He considered.
“Better in ways I don’t deserve credit for.”
“That’s an annoying answer.”
“I know.”
She gave him a look.
He caught himself.
“Sorry.”
Sofia laughed.
This time the laugh did not hurt.
Not much.
Daniel looked toward the grass.
“I don’t expect anything from you.”
“I believe you.”
He looked surprised.
“That’s new.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t make it important.”
“I won’t.”
They talked for twelve minutes.
About Hannah.
About work.
About Daniel’s mother’s dogs.
About the Bellamy Hotel, which had sent Sofia a gift certificate after the wedding disaster and apparently expected her to return someday.
“Absolutely insane,” Daniel said.
“I know.”
“They sent me one too.”
Sofia stared at him.
“No.”
“Dinner for two.”
She started laughing so hard she had to put down the cake.
Daniel laughed with her.
For a few seconds they were simply two people who had once known exactly how to make each other laugh.
Then the moment passed.
Sofia was grateful it passed.
Daniel said goodbye first.
She watched him walk toward the parking lot.
She did not call him back.
That mattered.
So did the fact that she wanted to.
Two years after the wedding, Sofia moved out of the apartment she had once shared with Daniel.
She had stayed much longer than she expected because rent elsewhere was ridiculous and spite was an expensive reason to move.
Her new place was smaller, on the third floor of a brick building near the clinic.
The kitchen had crooked cabinets.
The bedroom window stuck.
There was no doorman.
She loved it.
Margaret helped unpack.
Evelyn arrived with wine and a toolbox.
Hannah brought three lamps, none of which Sofia had asked for.
They ate pizza on the floor.
At ten, after everyone left, Sofia stood alone in the living room surrounded by boxes.
She opened one marked PHOTOS.
Claire’s frame was inside.
The necklace still hung from the corner.
Sofia lifted it.
For years she had imagined that wearing it would be some kind of declaration.
She had also imagined never wearing it would be one.
Both ideas now seemed exhausting.
She fastened it around her neck.
The pendant rested just below her collarbone.
She looked in the bathroom mirror.
She did not look like Claire.
That surprised her.
People had spent years telling them they looked alike.
In photographs, maybe.
Not here.
Sofia had lines beside her eyes now. Her hair was shorter. Her mouth had changed. Grief changed faces slowly enough that the owner rarely noticed.
She touched the pendant.
“Your coffee was terrible,” she said.
The apartment remained silent.
Sofia smiled.
She wore the necklace to work the next morning.
No one asked about it.
At lunch, she spilled tomato soup on her blouse.
She took the necklace off so it would not stain and put it in her locker.
For thirty minutes she forgot it was there.
That might have been the first time the necklace had become an object again.
Months later, Daniel called.
Not texted.
Called.
Sofia watched his name appear.
Then answered.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
A pause.
“I heard your mom’s moving.”
“She is.”
“Arizona?”
“North Carolina. She says Arizona is full because your mother already took all the dogs.”
Daniel laughed.
Sofia sat on the edge of her couch.
“What’s up?”
“My father lost the appeal.”
“I saw.”
“I thought you might.”
“Are you okay?”
He took a moment.
“Yes.”
She waited.
“No,” he said. “But I will be.”
“That sounds healthier.”
“I’m deeply irritating now.”
“You always were.”
“Fair.”
Another pause.
“Sofia.”
“Yes?”
“I found something of yours.”
Her stomach tightened before reason returned.
“What?”
“A cookbook.”
She closed her eyes.
“That’s it?”
“What did you think?”
“Nothing.”
He understood.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine.”
“It’s the red one from your dad.”
She knew exactly which book.
Her father’s handwritten notes covered the margins.
“How do you have that?”
“It was in a box labeled taxes.”
“That sounds like me.”
“Should I mail it?”
Sofia looked around her apartment.
“Bring it.”
The word came out before she decided whether she meant it.
Daniel went silent.
“If that’s okay,” she added.
“Yes.”
He came Sunday afternoon.
He carried the cookbook in one hand and a paper bag in the other.
“What’s that?”
“Coffee.”
“If it’s terrible, Claire gets blamed.”
He looked at the necklace around Sofia’s neck.
His face changed.
She touched the pendant without thinking.
“I wear it sometimes.”
Daniel nodded.
“It looks right.”
“Don’t make this weird.”
“Trying not to.”
They sat at her kitchen table.
May you like
Daniel turned the coffee cup in his hands.
Sofia opened the cookbook.
