conversation himself. Strike three.
Simon was right.
“Okay, Dad. Tell Zane I am really sorry about not being able to make it to the party. I will make it up to him.”
“Will do. And please pass on my sympathy to Blair and her family, would you?”
“Sure, Dad.”
“Take care, Tess. Call me when you get home, okay?”
“Okay. Goodbye.”
I click the phone off. So that’s that.
Chloe and Leah are beginning to squabble over who gets to be in a swing and who has to push it. I place the phone on the patio table and make my way to them. I tell them they can both be in a swing and I will push them both.
The rest of the day is a mixture of trying to meet Blair’s needs, helping with the girls, staying out of Veronica’s way and being impatient to talk with Simon. By nine-thirty I have the girls in bed, Blair has been given a sleeping pill, and Veronica and Jack have closed themselves off in their own suite.
I’m glad to get to my room where nothing has to be done for anyone. I just have to wait until after ten to call Simon. I get ready for bed. I pull a novel I read six years ago off one of the shelves in the room and read until a few minutes after ten. Then I can wait no longer. I call Simon.
“So how’s it going?” he says.
“It’s going,” I say. “Blair has a lot of family here and Brad has left everything to her in his will, so she will never have to worry about money. But it’s hard, Simon. I don’t know what to say. And she seems so detached. I don’t know what to do.”
“Give her a few days,” Simon replies. “She’s probably in shock. Or denial. Brian Guthrie told me he went through both.”
I am kind of surprised to hear him mention Brian Guthrie’s name again.
“So, are you guys, like, friends now?” I say and he can tell I am not quite serious.
“No,” Simon says. “But I am not his enemy.”
I decide to change the subject. “So how was work today?”
“It went really well. Everyone was glad to have me back. And they were patient with me while I re-familiarized myself with what we do all day long.”
“Direct air traffic?” I laugh, like it would be impossible for Simon to forget how to do that in two weeks.
“Getting planes full of people safely onto the ground,” he replies.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s all right, Tess.”
“I talked to my dad today.”
“And?”
“He didn’t mention your argument.”
For a moment neither one of us says anything. I wish I could see Simon’s face as he realizes he was right. Is he satisfied? Disappointed? Relieved? Sad?
“So, are you going to tell me what that means?” I ask. “I did what you said.”
“Not over the phone,” he replies and I have at least one answer. His voice is full of sadness.
“You told me you would tell me,” I feel like I am being treated like a child. Or like he is acting like a child.
“I will tell you, Tess. I promise. But I am not going to do it over the phone.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not. You’ll be home in a week or so. One more week can’t matter.”
“Simon—” I begin but he cuts me off.
“You’re going to have to trust me on this. Right now you need to concentrate on being a good friend to Blair.”
“You think I won’t be able to handle whatever it is you have to tell me?” I try to keep the irritation I am feeling out of my voice.
“I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“How can it be that bad, Simon, when I already know I’m wounded?”
“Because you think you know where the wound came from, Tess. But you don’t.”
I’m getting angry and I do not want to be angry with Simon. He is assuming too much. He has only known me for four years, and lived with me for just two. He doesn’t know everything. And he can’t possibly know something about me that I don’t know.
“Fine. We’ll talk about it when I get home, then.”
“Tess.”
“What?”
“We’ll get through this.”
Funny, that’s the same thing Veronica said to Blair earlier
Simon was right.
“Okay, Dad. Tell Zane I am really sorry about not being able to make it to the party. I will make it up to him.”
“Will do. And please pass on my sympathy to Blair and her family, would you?”
“Sure, Dad.”
“Take care, Tess. Call me when you get home, okay?”
“Okay. Goodbye.”
I click the phone off. So that’s that.
Chloe and Leah are beginning to squabble over who gets to be in a swing and who has to push it. I place the phone on the patio table and make my way to them. I tell them they can both be in a swing and I will push them both.
The rest of the day is a mixture of trying to meet Blair’s needs, helping with the girls, staying out of Veronica’s way and being impatient to talk with Simon. By nine-thirty I have the girls in bed, Blair has been given a sleeping pill, and Veronica and Jack have closed themselves off in their own suite.
I’m glad to get to my room where nothing has to be done for anyone. I just have to wait until after ten to call Simon. I get ready for bed. I pull a novel I read six years ago off one of the shelves in the room and read until a few minutes after ten. Then I can wait no longer. I call Simon.
“So how’s it going?” he says.
“It’s going,” I say. “Blair has a lot of family here and Brad has left everything to her in his will, so she will never have to worry about money. But it’s hard, Simon. I don’t know what to say. And she seems so detached. I don’t know what to do.”
“Give her a few days,” Simon replies. “She’s probably in shock. Or denial. Brian Guthrie told me he went through both.”
I am kind of surprised to hear him mention Brian Guthrie’s name again.
“So, are you guys, like, friends now?” I say and he can tell I am not quite serious.
“No,” Simon says. “But I am not his enemy.”
I decide to change the subject. “So how was work today?”
“It went really well. Everyone was glad to have me back. And they were patient with me while I re-familiarized myself with what we do all day long.”
“Direct air traffic?” I laugh, like it would be impossible for Simon to forget how to do that in two weeks.
“Getting planes full of people safely onto the ground,” he replies.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s all right, Tess.”
“I talked to my dad today.”
“And?”
“He didn’t mention your argument.”
For a moment neither one of us says anything. I wish I could see Simon’s face as he realizes he was right. Is he satisfied? Disappointed? Relieved? Sad?
“So, are you going to tell me what that means?” I ask. “I did what you said.”
“Not over the phone,” he replies and I have at least one answer. His voice is full of sadness.
“You told me you would tell me,” I feel like I am being treated like a child. Or like he is acting like a child.
“I will tell you, Tess. I promise. But I am not going to do it over the phone.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not. You’ll be home in a week or so. One more week can’t matter.”
“Simon—” I begin but he cuts me off.
“You’re going to have to trust me on this. Right now you need to concentrate on being a good friend to Blair.”
“You think I won’t be able to handle whatever it is you have to tell me?” I try to keep the irritation I am feeling out of my voice.
“I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“How can it be that bad, Simon, when I already know I’m wounded?”
“Because you think you know where the wound came from, Tess. But you don’t.”
I’m getting angry and I do not want to be angry with Simon. He is assuming too much. He has only known me for four years, and lived with me for just two. He doesn’t know everything. And he can’t possibly know something about me that I don’t know.
“Fine. We’ll talk about it when I get home, then.”
“Tess.”
“What?”
“We’ll get through this.”
Funny, that’s the same thing Veronica said to Blair earlier
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