Page 66 of Now That It's You
“All right,” Meg said, wanting desperately to believe her.
“In the meantime, you keep thinking about what your next book proposal might look like.”
“I’ve been giving it some thought,” Meg said. “I have a few ideas, and I can email you some things I’m kicking around.”
“Perfect!” A blare of car horns sounded in the background, and Meg pictured her agent walking down some New York City street, maybe catching a subway or staring at a billboard in Times Square or doing something equally exotic instead of standing in her kitchen with a smear of pastry filling on her forehead.
“Okay, I have to run,” Nancy said. “We can talk about this more when I’m in town later this week.”
“This week?” Meg frowned. “Wait, you mean you’re coming to Portland?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I’m flying to LA for a conference, and I changed my flights so I can stop off and meet you. I’ll be there Thursday. Here, I’ll send you the flight information now.”
“Oh,” Meg said, dazzled by the idea of meeting her literary agent in person. Hell, she was still dazzled that she even had a literary agent.
“All right, I sent it. Check your inbox and tell me when you’re free to meet. Oh, and Meg?”
“Yes?”
“Try not to worry too much about the lawsuit.”
“Okay,” Meg said, then clicked off the phone, wishing like hell it were that easy.
Kyle had half expected his mother to be annoyed that he’d chosen to bring his dog as his lunch date.
But as he watched his mom slip a piece of bacon under the table, it occurred to him he may not have given his mother enough credit.
“Is that good?” Sylvia murmured, patting the little black and brown dog on the head as Bindi took a gentle bite of the proffered treat.
A bespectacled waiter strolled out to their table and refilled their water glasses from a tall pitcher, then stooped down to replenish Bindi’s water dish. With a quick adjustment to the umbrella shielding them from the unseasonable burst of fall sunshine, the waiter turned and retreated back inside.
“The service here is always so nice,” Kyle’s mother said as she broke off another piece of bacon from her BLT and slipped it under the table. Bindi perked up her ears and cocked her head to one side, then licked Sylvia’s fingers.
“Good girl, Bin,” his mother cooed while Kyle took a bite of his club sandwich. He was still chewing when Sylvia looked back up at him. “So how are you holding up?” she asked.
Kyle finished chewing and swallowed, the bread making a thick lump in his throat. “Okay, I guess. How about you?”
He watched his mother’s eyes grow misty, and she looked away, wiping her hands on a napkin. “I’m still just in shock.” Sylvia pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer from her purse and dumped some into her hand, while Kyle took a gulp of his water and tried to force the bread lump down. “It’ll be three weeks tomorrow. Did you know that?”
He nodded and took another sip of water. “It doesn’t seem real. Friends keep sending me sympathy emails and Facebook messages and I keep thinking there has to be some mistake. He can’t really be gone.”
His mother nodded and wiped one eye with the edge of her wrist. “I know. I find myself getting irrationally angry at people who’ve sent sympathy cards or called to express their condolences. Like maybe if they didn’t do those things, he might still be here.”
Kyle set down his water glass and reached for his mother’s hand. It felt small and bony and he wondered how he’d missed the fact that his mom was old enough to be a grandmother.
“Kyle?”
He looked up at the sound of a familiar voice and saw Cara walking toward their table. She wore a pale blue dress and an expression of mild shock. As she approached the table, she laid one hand over her heart and the other on Kyle’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I heard about Matt. I honestly don’t know what to say.” She turned and looked at Kyle’s mom. “Sylvia. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”
“Thank you, dear.” Sylvia attempted a smile, but the gesture fell flat. She lifted her hand out from under Kyle’s and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin even though she hadn’t eaten anything at all.
Cara took her hand off his shoulder and glanced from mother to son, probably at a loss for what to say next. Kyle could relate. He had no earthly idea what to say to people anymore, especially the well wishers with tears in their eyes and carefully-rehearsed words of condolence.
That’s what he loved about being with Meg. He could just be himself without worrying he’d say the wrong thing or deviate from the script on how the brother of the deceased was supposed to behave.
Looking up at his ex-girlfriend now, he tried to think of something to say. Bindi thumped her tail against his shoe, but didn’t come out from under the table. It wasn’t like her to be shy with new people—especially of the female variety—but it seemed everyone was a little out of sorts.
