his dog for six weeks.
To my delight, Dubey had just finished work himself and was free for dinner.
We met at the Pine Club near UD, where we indulged in gin-and-tonics and divine filets.
Once again, our conversation unfolded like a dance we knew well—we fell into rhythm easily, no stumbles, smooth transitions.
He was riveted by the story of Zuzu and toasted to her recovery.
I toasted to Thanksgiving—the day after next.
“I’m thankful for my freedom,” he said.
I was tipsy enough that when Dubey asked me what had been the craziness I’d alluded to in my message, I blurted the whole story of Vijay as if we’d drunk truth serum.
As my mouth babbled on and on, my brain screamed, Shut up! Shut up! Why are you telling him this? But to my surprise, when I stumbled to a halt, Dubey raised his glass again and said, “I’m honored to know somebody with the strength, heart, and honesty you have. You are a kick-ass, independent woman.”
I think I mottled down to my toes.
Dubey got it.
“Here’s to never walking back into that trap,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be a trap with Vijay. It’s just—”
“Never again.” He downed his drink.
Well . . . Dubey sort of got it.
Close enough to feel like thanksgiving indeed.
Well, that is, until I drove home and saw I’d missed a call from Ginger Avalon. She would pick up Moonshot the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
Chapter Thirty-Six
IF GETTING GINGER AVALON’S MESSAGE DIDN’T MAKE ME sick enough, the e-mail Vijay finally sent me did.
I’m sorry I’ve been quiet so long. Please understand it’s hard to talk to you right now. I need to recover, which I know I will, but be patient with me, Cam. I think I’m going to take some time off, all the vacation time I’ve never taken, and really do some thinking.
My eyes stung at the word “recover.” I’d hurt him, which I’d never, ever wanted to do. But, maybe . . . maybe he would figure out what he really wanted in life.
I would love to be able to talk to him about Zuzu, about all that Zayna had said, about losing Moonshot, to have his voice treat all my anxiety and sorrow. I missed him so much. I still held out hope.
That hope made me wretched with confusion over the lovely evening I’d just had with Dubey.
I’D ORIGINALLY WORRIED THAT THE FIRST HOLIDAYS WITHOUT Bobby would be difficult, but as it turned out, he wasn’t even a blip on my radar.
The Binardis usually had a huge gathering on the Saturday after Thanksgiving in Columbus, so the actual holiday was a small, cozy affair at my mom and dad’s. In years past, I’d harass my mother, “What time are we actually eating?” knowing I could only expect Bobby to stay a certain amount of time. This year, Gabby and I went early, and we were surprised to find the Davids already there. “We always come this early,” Davy said. “We stay all day.”
Ava was there, too—they alternated years with Carol’s family—and she was happily icing cookies. (Big David had come up with an ingenious idea: Ava was happiest when busy doing something with her hands. Since she’d always been a baker, he had her roll sugar-cookie dough and cut shapes, then ice them. They delivered copious quantities of their cookies to food pantries around the city.)
Ava iced pumpkins, snowflakes, and Easter eggs. (“Easter eggs?” I asked. Big David shrugged. “It’s what she picked.”) I iced, too—it was addicting, like filling in coloring books.
When we sat down to dinner, Davy announced, “We were picked by another mother.” He said it as exuberantly as he had the first time. I loved that he still had that belief, that hope within him. “After what happened before, we feel a little weird. Don’t feel obligated to make a big fuss again.”
“Obligated?” my mother asked. “That’s hardly the word I’d choose. We’re thrilled.”
Mom hounded them for details. They told us about Jessie—twenty-four, graduating from a premed program at Northwestern.
“Jess is really smart and together,” Big David said, “but not ready to be a mom. She wants her baby to have two parents.”
“And she wants those two parents to be us,” Davy said, grinning. He handed the bowl of mashed potatoes to David.
See? I thought. You lose some, you gain some. Concentrate on the gain.
“The baby is a boy this time,” Big David said.
“Have you thought about names?” Gabby asked.
“Jack,” Davy said at the exact same moment Big David said, “Michael.”
WHEN THE DAVIDS AND AVA HEADED HOME,