The Single Life. Liz Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ not really moving out,” Chrissie had said more than a year ago, “so don’t look for another roomie. I love my mother, but I can’t live with her too long. She’d drive me crazy.”

      Helen didn’t know how mothers could do that because she had been only eight when hers had died. But Chrissie usually knew what she was talking about. Only it hadn’t been Chrissie who had been going crazy. It had been her mother. Not crazy, really. Just heartbroken.

      So, despite her reservations, Chrissie had moved to her mother’s Oak Park house, where she had remained for more than a year. Then, she had been offered her dream job in Austria as the legal advisor to an international trade organization. Even then, she hadn’t wanted to leave.

      “I can’t leave my mom. Not now. Not when she’s like this.”

      “She wants you to go, Chrissie,” Helen had reminded her. “And you can’t turn down something like this. You’ve wanted it, like, forever.”

      Chrissie had shrugged her shoulders, but in the end she had gone. Now Helen was also going to have to go. She didn’t want Sharon thinking she begrudged her Josh.

      Because she really didn’t care about him. In fact, the more she thought about it, the less she cared. Sure, it had surprised her to see them together. Maybe even shocked her that Josh, just another techno-weenie, could do it in the living room, with the door wide open. Maybe even amazed her that he could get her roommate to make such loud noises.

      But neither the sight nor the sounds really bothered her. What really bothered her was that she hadn’t even been good enough for a techno-weenie.

      Well, she was going to change all that. She would deal with her lack-of-man problem the way she had dealt with all her problems. The way she had managed to outsmart her brother David at chess and her other brother Christopher at the International Youth for Robotics Fair. The way she had managed to get top marks in graduate school. All she had to do was find the right books, take the right classes, read, study and then master the subject. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

      But first, she was going to have to find another place to live.

      CHAPTER 2

      Lauren pushed the diced carrots around her plate. Alice Mirosek was saying something about her husband Frank and his camera. Or was it his carburetor? Did it really matter? Either way, Lauren had lost the point to the story, and no one seemed to notice. Why had she come? Why had she let Alice and Clare talk her into it?

      Not that there had been any discussion involved. They had pulled the good cop/bad cop routine. First, the good cop had called about the planned get-together.

      “I never get to see you anymore now that the kids are gone and you’ve stopped coming to the fitness classes,” Alice had said in that honeyed voice of hers. “It would be nice to catch up. Let’s try lunch at The Green Factory. Clare can make it, too. It’ll be fun, Lauren. Just like old times.”

      But it wouldn’t be like old times, not for her anyway. Those times were gone. Gone with the wind. Make that the hurricane.

      So Lauren hadn’t promised anything, and she certainly hadn’t bothered to get ready for lunch today. But she hadn’t figured on the bad cop arriving. Like a dark-haired Valkyrie in pursuit of revenge, Clare had pushed her straight into the shower, thrown some clothes on her bed and practically forced her into the car. Nor did her relentless takeover stop when they arrived at The Green Factory. She wouldn’t even allow Lauren to give her order to the boyish-looking waiter. Not that it mattered. She didn’t care what it was anyway, even though she had had a mouthful or two.

      Lauren glanced at her friends. At least, they weren’t having any trouble eating. No more than they were with life. No road blocks on their paths to happiness, not even a bump.

      Clare said something indiscernible. Alice nodded and continued to talk about Frank. That marriage was obviously still going strong. Which was somewhat surprising, given all the odds against them.

      Frank, the rebellious son of New Jersey factory workers, had traded in his youthful rock musician aspirations to work with emotionally disturbed children. Alice was born and bred in the affluent suburb of Oak Park, and it showed, right down to her woolen knit skirt, sensible but expensive leather shoes, and her senior management position at a Chicago bank. Yet Frank and Alice had found something together that Charles and Lauren, with their similar backgrounds, never had. Now that Frank and Alice’s youngest was almost out of college, it seemed to be honeymoon time all over again for them. No wonder Alice couldn’t understand what Lauren was going through. No more than Clare could.

      Lauren turned toward the other woman whose black hair, olive-toned skin and dark eyes revealed her Mediterranean origins. She was saying something in her eloquent, persuasive style, gesturing in short, rapid movements to hammer home a point. Lauren noticed again how tiny Clare’s wrists were, making her seem fragile and delicate.

      But there was nothing delicate or fragile about Clare. Lauren knew that for a fact. Clare clearly didn’t need anything or anyone—not a husband, not children. Lauren had always thought how empty Clare’s days must be without them. But, looking at her now, it was clear that Clare’s life could hardly be qualified a failure.

      Unlike Lauren’s.

      Suddenly aware of a lull in the conversation and two pairs of eyes scrutinizing her, Lauren impaled something on her fork and dragged it into her mouth. She chewed with effort, and the big, tasteless lump went down slowly, very slowly.

      She didn’t notice Alice reaching over until she felt the squeeze of her hand.

      “Clare told me about the house,” Alice said, slowly releasing her grip. “I’m sorry.”

      Tilting her head, letting her shoulder-length hair fall around her face like a veil, Lauren kept her eyes on her plate. “Yeah, well.”

      “Three heads are better than one, you know. Together we’ll think of something.”

      “Have you thought about it?” Clare asked. “What you’re going to do with it?”

      Lauren lifted her head. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I just know I can’t sell it. Not after all the time I put into it. Not now that I’ve lost everything else. The house…” She glanced around the restaurant and swallowed, hoping no one noticed the break in her voice. She forced herself to look back at the two women. “That would be the last straw.”

      “You haven’t lost everything, Lauren,” Alice said. “You have to stop thinking that way.”

      “Right.” Lauren set her fork on her plate and leaned back in her chair. “And which way should I be thinking?”

      “Certainly not only about the bad things. Think about the good things. You have two wonderful children, a house you restored practically on your own, an award-winning book. Should I continue?”

      Lauren shrugged. “What’s the point?” She studied the pattern on the table cloth, hoping the conversation would change and her friends would ignore her, the way the rest of the universe had been doing. But she underestimated them.

      “Oh for crying out loud, Lauren!” Clare said, running her manicured fingers through her dark curls. “You’ve got to stop thinking this way. The world hasn’t ended just because you lost your husband! Maybe you didn’t lose СКАЧАТЬ