Page 39 of Rebound

“Donny’s going to bring us a couple pizzas to go with the beer. Or would you prefer wine, Amber?”

“Usually, I’d say yes, but tonight I think beer will be perfect. What was it like, living here?”

“Oh, it was great,” she says enthusiastically. “I loved it. There’s a real sense of community, and people really look out for each other, you know?”

I nod, but I actually don’t know. I study the groups of friends, families, and older couples who occupy the tables around us. Everyone looks as happy as Amelia. Nobody seems to be inspecting each other’s outfits or wearing a Rolex, and they’re all relaxed as they eat messy food and laugh and chat. It’s a far cry from what I’m used to.

“I’m moving out of the Manhattan house,” I announce right as the waitress arrives with our beers. I take a tentative sip and nod in appreciation. It’s better than I thought it would be.

“Why?” Drake asks, frowning. “You’ve lived there since you got married, and Elijah was planning to let you keep it.”

“I don’t want itbecausewe’ve lived there since we got married. We expected to fill it with children, and that didn’t happen.”

I can tell from the way Amelia looks away, her pinched expression, that she knows I can’t have kids.

“It’s okay, Amelia.” I pat her hand on the table. “It’s fine for you to know, and it’s fine for us to talk about it. I should have talked about it more in the first place. If I had, maybe people wouldn’t have kept asking. It was like torture—the constant questions. ‘When will we be hearing the patter of tiny feet?’ I felt ashamed, for absolutely no reason, and that made it worse. By the time I was in my thirties, I was getting asked about it so much I considered taking an ad out in theTimes. Some kind of announcement of infertility, right in there with the births, marriages, and deaths.”

Drake’s expression darkens. I never told him how much it bothered me either. “And how do you feel about it all now?” Amelia asks, her tone cautious but interested.

“I will always feel sad about it, truthfully—but I also don’t want what I can’t do to define me.”

“That makes sense,” she says. “And moving out of Manhattan, that’s part of your plan?”

I didn’t actually say that I was moving out of Manhattan, but really, why not? What is left for me there? Fake friends, meaningless social events, shopping? Once the divorce goes through, there’s no real reason for me to stay in New York. I could go to Charleston or anywhere I like. Not a day has passed when I haven’t thought of heading back to Lucille’s to lick my wounds. But there’s a difference between running and relocating, and I will not run. For the time being, I will stay in the city. Besides, I’m having quite the satisfying affair, and I’m not sure how far Mr. Smith would be willing to travel.

“Moving out of the house is, for sure. I need to look for a place. The problem is, I’ve never had to do any of this stuff. I haven’t signed a lease or had to figure out how to get the power connected.”

“Life stuff, you mean?” she asks.

“Exactly. I went from my family to college to Elijah. Pathetic but true. I’m sure I can figure it all out.”

“Of course you can,” Drake says. “You can do anything, Amber. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

The pizza arrives, and it’s pretty much the best damn pizza I’ve ever tasted. We lose ourselves in a saucy cheese coma for the next twenty minutes. Afterward, I slump in my chair with my beer. I might even break the rule of a lifetime and belch in public.

As the plates are cleared away, Amelia wipes her face with a napkin and laughs at my expression. “You think that was good, wait ’til you try Mario’s exploding donut balls.”

“I’m not sure. They sound dangerous.”

“They are.” Drake rolls his eyes. “Dangerously good. This place is sinful food heaven.”

“Huh. Maybe I should move here, then.”

Amelia taps her fingers on the table and narrows her eyes at me. “Maybe you should. How about my place?”

“Which one? I believe you’re a budding property mogul.”

“Hardly. But my mom’s place… it’s a nice house on a nice street. It’s not big, and it’s not fancy, but it might be okay for you.”

Drake lets out a surprised laugh, and I turn my gaze to him. Smirking, he holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. I just… The thought of you living in Brooklyn? No way.”

“What happened to not underestimating me? Do you think I’m some kind of pampered princess who might faint if she’s too far away from her nail salon?”

“Uh, well, yeah—a little bit. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings. Look, I get that you’re looking for a fresh start. And it is a nice street, but it’s really not what you’re used to.”

“Darling, I’m used to feeling miserable every single day. Anything will be an improvement on that. Can we go and look at it? Or are you worried that your big brother might disapprove?” I’m messing with him, and he knows it. Drake is the middle sibling and has always worked crazy hard for his place in the hierarchy.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure my big brother will disapprove. You know full well that Elijah will want to have a SWAT team on standby twenty-four seven if you leave Manhattan.” He leans back in his chair and stares at me. I know I have him.

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