Page 5 of Resurrect Me

I nod then grab the remote and turn on the TV while Declan trudges off into the kitchen.

He returns seconds later with paper plates, ramekins, and a bottle of soy sauce. He sets them down on the table and plops down beside me. I recoil. Maybe I shouldn’t have let him in. I suddenly feel exposed. Awkward. I bring my feet up underneath me and pull a throw blanket over my bare legs.

I click through ten, twenty, thirty channels in search of something that isn’t romantic or scary. I don’t want to give him the wrong impression…because it feels like I already have.

Declan leans forward and produces a white Styrofoam box from the brown bag. He hands it to me.

“See? Your favorite, right?”

I nod and force a grin. Maybe I’m being too hard on him. He’s been there more for me than my own family since…

I pour soy in the wooden ramekin and dip my sushi roll in the dark sauce. It’s been a year since I’ve had sushi. It was me and Sol’s thing. Of course, a little rice and raw fish would invoke memories of Sol. I close my eyes and remind myself I’m not betraying my husband. That there’s nothing wrong with eating sushi with our good friend.

Then again. My mind returns to his earlier question:we’re friends, right?Would a friend make a move on a friend who’s mourning their dead spouse? Would a friend put pressure on a friend to move on? I open my mouth to say something, when he places a hand on my knee. I don’t think. I just react.

“Umm…” I stand abruptly, knocking my soy sauce all over my beautiful rug. “I…I can’t do this, Declan. I’m sorry.” I begincleaning up the mess I made and avoid eye contact with him. Though I can almost hear him seething and feel his eyes on me.

He crouches to help me mop up the soy with a napkin. “No, no. I’m sorry, Tacy. You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have done that. From now on, I’ll sit on the sofa. Would that make you more comfortable?”

No, what would make me more comfortable would be for you to leave.But I can’t be that rude to him, so instead I say, “sure. That’d be okay. Sorry again. I’m just not ready…”

We finish cleaning up the mess I made. Declan picks up his Styrofoam box and sits on the couch. “All good. Let’s just be two friends who watch a movie together. Okay?”

I nod and return to my spot on the loveseat, pulling the blanket up off the floor and over my lap. “Okay.”

I eat two or three sushi rolls, say I’m finished, and excuse myself to clean up and take out the trash.

It’s warm and humid outside, as I plod down the porch steps with a heavy trash bag in hand. I open the bin and throw it inside. A dog barks somewhere in the neighborhood and a streetlamp flickers. For a second, I think I see the shadow of a man standing across the street. But I rub my eyes gently, telling myself it’s a displaced contact lens.

I glance down at my watch. It’s getting late, and I promised the kids we’d wake up early to go to the beach. Time for him to go home.

I trudge back inside and just as I step into the living room, Declan quickly sets my phone back on the coffee table. Then nonchalantly puts his hands in his pockets. I can’t believe what I just saw.

“Uhh, I thought it was my phone for a second,” he stammers.

Why the fuck is he looking at my phone?

“Uh huh,” I reply and reach for the remote. I click off the television and motion to the door. “Declan, thank you for the sushi. That was kind of you, but I have an early morning. I promised the kids a beach day, and we like to get there before the crowds.”

“Oh, but it’s only midnight,” he says as he pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “Can’t we finish the movie?” He reaches for the remote on the coffee table, and I bristle at his brazenness. His phone was in his pocket the whole time.

I stroll to the door and open it. Then flash him a toxic smile. It’s a get-the-fuck-out-of-my-house-before-I-kill-you type of grin. “I appreciate your generosity, but I’m tired. I worked a long shift today, Declan.”

He leans back and turns the TV back on.

I’m confused. He’s never been this blatantly obstinate before. He’s acting like he lives here. Am I not being forward enough?

“I don’t want to be rude…” I say.

“But you are being rude.”

My jaw tightens and my arm hairs stand straight up. My nervous system is warning of DANGER. I remind myself he is a friend, and maybe he’s having a bad day. Maybe I put out the wrong vibes. Gave him the wrong idea. I shouldn’t have let him in. Shouldn’t have eaten his fucking fish.

“I…I’m sorry?”

“I said, you’re being rude, Tacy. If Sol were here, he would agree.”

I grip the doorknob with one hand and put the other on my hip. Is he really challenging me in my own house? What is his problem?

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