your house and everything.”
“I’m renting the apartment.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I’m okay. Pissed most of the time, but fine.”
“You hide the anger well.”
“The punching bag at the gym would argue with that.”
I glance around the room and notice that a couple of people are looking our way.
“You know what the worst part of living in a small town is?” I ask him after our drinks are delivered.
“The gossip.” He sips his Coke and also glances around. “We should be used to it by now.”
“It’s never really been aimed at me before,” I admit and squirm in my seat.
“I think people mean well,” he says. “They feel bad.”
“And they think I don’t have ears. Every time I go to the grocery, bank, or…anywhere, they talk as if I’m not even there. ‘Oh, isn’t it sad? Poor Sam and Tash. Stuck with those babies.’ I’m not stuck with anything.”
“People say that?”
“Oh, yeah. And other things. Why can’t they just talk behind my back when I’m not around like normal people? I don’t honestly care about that, I just don’t want to hear it.”
“I’m tired of the constant condolences,” Sam says. “If I hear ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ one more time, I might strangle someone.”
“Amen to that.”
Our food is delivered, and my mouth starts to water.
“Nothing like a burger from Ed’s.” I go through the ritual of taking the lettuce off and rearranging the pickles, squirting ketchup into my mayo before giving it a stir with a fry. When I look up, I see Sam watching me with a grin. “What?”
“If you don’t want the lettuce, why don’t you ask them to hold it with the tomato?”
“Because this is how I do it.” I munch on a fry. “It’s my routine. My Ed’s routine.”
“Okay.” He takes an onion ring and reaches over to dunk it in my sauce, but I slap his hand. “Hey. Don’t be stingy.”
“Get your own.” But I laugh and scoot the little dish closer to him. “Okay, I’ll share.”
“That looks beautiful on you.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“The laugh. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen it since…the day.”
I shrug a shoulder. “I haven’t felt much like laughing.”
And when I do, the guilt settles in again.
Monica doesn’t get to laugh anymore, why should I?
Because I’m alive.
“Okay, I won’t mention it again because you stopped laughing and now you look sad again.”
“I’m okay.” I take a big bite of burger. “This helps.”
I have to wipe ketchup off my chin.
“You’re so classy,” he says with a laugh.
“I know, right?”
“Hey, you guys.” We look up to find Mrs. Blakely standing at our table. She owns Little Deli on main street and was close to Sam’s parents when they were alive. “I don’t want to interrupt your lunch, I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re holding up.”
Here we go.
“We’re doing fine, thank you for asking,” Sam says in his polite voice. The one his parents taught him to use whenever speaking to an elder.
“Well, I’m sure you’re doing as well as you can, considering,” Mrs. Blakely says and gives his shoulder a soft pat. Then she turns her gaze to me, and I feel like squirming again. “How about you, dear? I’m sure the twins are giving you a run for your money.”
“They’re great.” I swallow the bite of burger that now tastes like cardboard.
“I’ve heard they’re having some trouble at the preschool,” she says, and I sigh.
For fuck’s sake, all I wanted to do was have lunch with Sam.
“You know what, I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.” I wipe my mouth and drop the napkin on the table. Sam sits back in his seat, anger warring with worry as he watches me. “Mrs. Blakely, you already paid your respects at the funeral. There’s no need to interrupt us during lunch and make us sad. Make us feel badly all over again. It’s rude. And it’s not okay.”
I push out of the booth and head for the door.
“Oh, my,” I hear her say, but I don’t give a shit.
This is why I rarely leave the house.
Because every damn time I do, I’m reminded that my best friend is gone, and she’s never coming back. She won’t get to see her gorgeous children grow up. She was robbed of everything.
All because a fucking landlord didn’t install a CO2 detector in a rental house.
“Tash.”
I hear Sam rush up behind me. He doesn’t take my arm, he simply wraps his arms around me and hugs me close from behind.
“I’m just so angry,”