Slow Dancing on Price's Pier by Lisa Dale Page B

how her relationship with Garret had changed all their lives, would leave it at that.
    â€œClaudine’s right.” Dani canted her head, thoughtful. “Look. I know a thing or two about getting divorced. You’ve got a whole new life that you’ve got to get used to now.”
    Thea put down her lemonade; the glass was dripping wet with condensation. “What do you mean, a whole new life? I like my life.”
    â€œYou’re divorced now,” Dani said. “Life’s going to change. And you might as well be ready.”
    â€œIt is like this.” Claudine uncrossed her legs and sat up, leaning her arms on the table. She tied her dark blond hair in a spiky bun as she spoke. “People have to collect experiences—like I do. I try to collect all experiences, good and bad. This is a great time for you to become a bigger person, n’est pas ? Branch out. Try new things.”
    â€œLike what?” Thea asked.
    Lettie’s voice was soft but hopeful. “Whatever you like or don’t like,” she said.
    Thea got up, unsticking her sundress from her skin, and went to the railing of the patio. A hundred pint-sized fir trees were lined up like little soldiers, the evening shadows sinking into the gulfs between rows. The air was heavy, and haze softened the distant hills so they were nearly indistinguishable from the sky.
    Dani’s words echoed in some deep place within her: You’re divorced now. Life’s going to change . Already, she could feel the primary purposes of her life—her reasons for living—being relegated to the sidelines. She’d felt so comfortable in her role as wife, as mother. But perhaps Jonathan was right. Perhaps she’d been operating on autopilot for a few years too long.
    â€œIrina’s been going to see her father every weekend,” she said, her back to the group. “And I’m glad he wants to be with her so much. But it feels so strange . . .”
    â€œWhy?” Rochelle asked gently.
    â€œIrina gives me these in-depth reports. What Jonathan ate for breakfast. How the bathroom at her uncle’s house has water jets in the walls. It makes me feel so . . . left out.”
    â€œUnderstandable,” Dani said.
    â€œBut there’s more.” Thea turned around to face them; it felt good to be talking. She hadn’t realized how much she’d bottled up. “Some days she’ll come home and say, ‘We all went kayaking down the river in Providence,’ or ‘We all played Yahtzee and I won.’ And I realize, she’s talking about all of them —my family. Everyone getting together, but not me.”
    â€œThey can’t very well invite you.” Claudine put out her cigarette on the bottom of her flip-flop. “You’re split up. It would be weird.”
    â€œHush,” Rochelle said. She turned to Thea, her doe-brown eyes full of compassion. “Have you tried talking to them about how you feel?”
    â€œThey must know,” Thea said.
    â€œYou gotta speak up for yourself.” Dani’s voice had gotten louder. “Are you still not talking to your husband?”
    â€œI saw him yesterday. It . . . didn’t go well.”
    â€œHmm,” Lettie said.
    â€œSo, no . I guess we’re still not talking.”
    â€œBut you must see him when he comes to get Irina,” Dani said.
    Thea shook her head. “Garret picked her up again this morning. Which means Jonathan’s back to giving me the cold shoulder. I think it’s meant as punishment. The silent treatment, with the added bonus of making me deal with Garret—who is not exactly my biggest fan.”
    â€œThe brother? Is he a jerk to you?” Rochelle asked.
    â€œNo more than could be expected.”
    â€œStill acting like a child,” Lettie said, shaking her head. “And after all this time.”
    Thea laughed a little to herself. “He once said marrying me was the