Page 9 of The Wedding Menu

“Okay. I’ll order dinner.” Her finger swipes over the coffee table, and as she shows me the dust on her fingertip, she adds, “We can clean up a little while we wait, then binge something.” Patting my knee, she gives me a smile that reaches up to her warm eyes. “How does that sound?”

Like I should have called her sooner. I’ve been avoiding her and everyone else for months, and now that she’s here, I forget why. “Yes, please,” I tell her as I squeeze her hand.

“Great. Let me just call Ryan.”

“Why? Did you guys have plans?”

Her dismissive gesture is as convincing as my recent smiles, and as her eyes drift to her wedding band, I suck in a surprised breath. Martha’s getting married on September fifteenth, a day after the weeklong conference will be over, so today must be September first. “Barb?”

“Hmm?” she asks as she taps on her phone.

“Is today your anniversary?”

She waves me off again as she makes apfftsound. “It’s fine, Ames. I’m stuck with Ryan for the rest of my life. We’ll have many more anniversaries.”

It feels like my brain is shutting down, my fingers and toes tingling until they feel entirely numb. Just when I’d started to think the sorrow in my soul was at maximum capacity, a new wave hits me and leaves me breathless.

It’s been a year since her wedding. A whole year since…him.

“Ames?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hold a hand over Barb’s phone. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your first wedding anniversary, and you’ll spend it with your husband.”

“But—”

“No buts.” I squeeze her into a side hug, wetting her T-shirt with my damp hair. “Congratulations, Barb.”

Her shoulders slump, and she gives me a half-hearted nod. “Thank you. We won’t do anything special anyway. The baby only allows for a few nausea-free hours at a time.”

“Did you have another ultrasound?”

“Last week. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown already. We saw his little fist this time.” She takes out her phone, then shows me a picture. Then a video, then another picture. I grin at the happiness pouring out of her and can’t help thinking that their baby boy might be the only good news to come out of the past year.

“Go on, get out of here,” I tell her. Knowing she feels like she’s abandoning me when I most need her, I put on a mask of cheerfulness and stand. I walk her to the door, then squeeze her into a hug, her belly pushing into mine as I hold her close.

“Ames,” she says as I let her go. Twisting a sticky lock of my hair away from my face, she gives me a strained smile. “I haven’t seen you happy in so long.”

My lips purse as I study the billion freckles on her face, praying whatever she has to say won’t take long.

“You know I’m not wrong. Is there someone in your life you like? Someone you’re close to? A person you trust?”

When I wink at her, she chuckles, squeezing my hand. “Same, and although I wish I could be there for you more often, when the baby comes, I’ll be barely holding up myself.”

“I’m doing just fine, Barb.”

“Really?” She rolls her eyes and raises a small hand, thumb extended. “You and Martha aren’t on speaking terms. Your dad can’t think of anything but his career, your mom is on the other side of the world”—she shakes her head as she continues listing off each item with her fingers—“and after Frank…”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

She lets loose a sigh. “I know. All I am saying is…” She looks around, as if trying to find the right words. “Who’s in your corner, Ames? You need someone you trust. Someone you love, someone who gets you smiling and is there for you. Youneedsomeone in your corner.”

When I say nothing, she kisses my cheek and squeezes my arm, then walks away.

Closing the door of the apartment, I let the question poison my mind.

Who’s in my corner?

I thought Frank was, but things went the way they did. Martha was, but I can think of so many instances during the past year when she wasn’t. Then I think ofhim.

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