The Empty Room by Lauren B. Davis Page B

her feel better, would help her see her way out of this mess. Colleen took her phone out of her purse and dialled Lori’s work number.
    “O’Toole’s, can I help you?” said Lori.
    “Lori, it’s me.”
    “Hey, you, what’s up? Wait, can you hang on?”
    Without waiting for an answer, Lori said something to someone. It sounded as though she had her hand over the phone.
    Colleen looked at her watch: 11:45. This was probably a bad time to call, with the lunch crowd starting. But this was urgent. A life crisis.
    “Hey, sorry, party of eight, no reservation, naturally. Hang on. They want what? Fine, put tables fourteen and fifteen together, then. Okay? Sorry, Colleen. What’s up? You coming down for lunch?”
    “No, I quit my job this morning.” She had meant to say she lost her job.
    “You did what? What the hell happened?”
    It wasn’t too late. She could tell Lori. Then again, she couldn’t tell her why they’d let her quit. She couldn’t. “I’d just had enough of their bullshit, frankly.”
    “Really? Hey, wait, sorry. Yes, can I help you? Do you have a reservation? Parker. Yes, right here. Ruth, can you see the Parkers to table six? Thanks. Okay, I’m back, now tell me again, why did you quit?”
    “It’s complicated. Any chance you can come over after your shift?”
    “Today?”
    Of course today, what kind of a question is that ? “This afternoon, this evening, whenever you get off.”
    “Oh, Colleen, I can’t today, honey. I’m working until three and then I’ve got to drive Ian to work—did I tell you he slammed his car into the neighbour’s mailbox? Why do we let teenagers drive?—and I promised Madeleine I’d take her shopping for a new coat and I’ve got to get to the grocery store …”
    “Tonight, then, come over once Lewis gets home.”
    “He’s working late tonight. I can’t believe you quit your job. Not an easy time to find a new one, not these days, and well, I don’t know, but this is, what, your third job in five years?”
    “What’s that supposed to mean? I transferred within the university. Was that a crack?”
    “Listen, I’m really sorry, but this place is about to go crazy. Why don’t I call you later?”
    “Fine, whatever.”
    “Come on, Colleen, don’t be like that.”
    “I’m not like anything. You’re the one who apparently doesn’t have time. God knows I’ll be here.”
    There was a moment’s silence. “Sweetie, listen, I’ll call you later. But in the meantime, don’t drink too much, okay?”
    “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    “Well, you’re drinking, right?”
    “Of course I’m not drinking. It’s not even noon, for God’s sake.”
    “I wouldn’t blame you, but I thought I could hear it in your voice. If I’m wrong, never mind.”
    “You’re wrong.”
    “Good. Okay, well, like I said, it’s crazy here right now. I’ll call you later, and I’m sorry, okay?”
    “Wonderful. Splendid.”
    Colleen flipped the phone closed and began to cry scalding tears. Lori was her best friend, had been since they’d met back in their early twenties at a dance class. They told each other everything, even things Lori didn’t tell her husband, Lewis. They knew each other’s secret wounds, like the torch Lori still carried for Kent Wilde, the lacrosse-playing high-school heartbreaker to whom she had lost her virginity. Before Lori got married seventeen years ago to Lewis, she and Colleen had made the club scene together, and even dated a couple of guys from the same band back in the day. When the junkie drummer Lori had been seeing for six months told her he loved her, Lori’d almost had a breakdown, since no one (other than Colleen) had ever told her they loved her—not even her uptight Swiss parents. The drummer—a guy named Mikewho reminded Colleen of Animal on The Muppet Show —had apparently mumbled those three magic words into Lori’s neck one night, just before he ran to the bathroom backstage, puked and promptly