but she didn’t bother to look at it. Her mom had been calling every day (a few times a day, actually) trying to persuade Claire to come to the shore with the family. “It’s important to me,” her mom said, over and over. If Claire had been anyone else, she could have told her mom the truth, that she didn’t want to go and sit with her family for a week at the beach, that it would make her already pathetic life seem worse. But she wouldn’t do that, because no matter how old she got, she still hated hurting Weezy’s feelings, and the times that she did left her feeling so guilty she couldn’t sleep. But for now, she let the phone ring. She had stuff to do, like looking at her bank accounts online hoping something had changed, and watching TV.
Claire sighed and switched the channel. She could always make something for dinner. There was a box of macaroni and cheese in the cupboard and that would be fine, she realized. Yes, if Maddie and Jack were still out there when she wanted to eat, she’d just make that. Calmed by the fact that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone today, she pulled a blanket over her and settled down on the couch to watch an old eighties movie. She figured watching people go to the prom would be soothing.
CLAIRE FIRST MET DOUG AT a Super Bowl party of a friend of a friend on the Upper West Side. They’d sat next to each other on the couch and watched the game, eating guacamole and laughing at the commercials. Anytime Claire needed a beer, Doug stood up, took her empty bottle, and returned with a full one. At the end of the night, she was happy to give him her number when he asked.
“Doug Winklepleck?” her best friend, Lainie, had said. “That’s an unfortunate name.” Claire agreed, but continued to date him.
After they’d dated each other for a few weeks, Doug said, “I would like to be exclusive with you, if that’s what you want as well.” It sounded like a business proposal, but Claire was happy to agree. Doug was straightforward, and Claire appreciated that. He had a thin face, and a nose that was almost too big, but not quite. He was handsome in his own way. He was a systems developer for a fund of funds, a job title that meant nothing to Claire and that she never quite fully understood. He had his ties on a rotating schedule and contributed the maximum amount to his 401(k). He was, by all accounts, admirable.
On one of their early dates, Doug took Claire to see the elephants arrive in Manhattan for the circus. They were marched through the Queens Midtown Tunnel at midnight and Doug told her it was something she had to see. “I can’t believe you’ve lived here for five years and you’ve never seen them,” he said. “That won’t do.”
They went to a bar on Third Avenue that had a jukebox, long wooden tables, and smelled like yeast and bleach. They played darts and shared a plate of buffalo wings, which was a tricky thing to eat on an early date. And when it was time, they rushed out to the street to wait for the arrival.
Claire stood there, leaning against Doug, buzzed from the beers and the strangeness of the night. She shivered and watched the big, sad elephants march into Manhattan. They were wrinkled and dusty and magnificent. She wanted to cry for them, wanted to run up and touch their rough skin with her hand, to place her palms flat against their hides. It was all she could do to stay put in her place. She drew in a deep breath and said, “Oh.”
“See?” Doug whispered into her hair. “I told you. It’s something to see.”
And right then, Claire felt like Doug was the right choice, the person she’d been waiting for, and anytime she started to think otherwise, she’d close her eyes and whisper, “Remember the elephants,” until the feeling went away.
THEY MOVED IN TOGETHER NINE MONTHS after they met, and then, about a year after that, Doug proposed. The ring was dull, silver, and thick, with a vine etched all around it. Along the vine were tiny dots of diamonds. Claire hated it. “I knew you wouldn’t want a big, showy ring,” Doug said. She’d just nodded and looked down at her hand. Of course she wanted a