Page 52 of Poison Wood
Riverbend, Louisiana
Thursday, February 14, 2019
11:40 a.m. CST
Katrina Donovan smiles down at me with her dark, thick hair, brilliant white teeth, and designer jumpsuit. Summer stands behind her in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, yet she is still getting more looks than Katrina. I wonder what Martha Lee would do if she saw them. She mentioned the staff at Poison Wood was scared of some of the girls. Was it these two? And was it one of them who snuck a boy in over Thanksgiving?
“Hey,” I say. Seeing them twice in as many days is not helping the acid situation in my gut.
Summer smiles, then runs to my side of the table and hugs me.
“Carita,” she says, and I give her a look. “Rita,” she corrects with an even bigger smile. “Oh my God. You look amazing.”
“Back at you,” I say and turn to Katrina. “It’s been a long time.”
“This is crazy,” Katrina says. She pulls out the chair next to me and sits.
Summer sits on the other side of me. “I can’t believe we are all here again.”
The three of us haven’t been at the same table together since November 2003, and back then the table was in Summer’s dining room, where we were discussing the one-year anniversary of the death of ourfriend Heather Hadwick with a local news reporter who was doing a follow-up.Friend.That’s what the interviewer had called Heather, and none of us had argued it.
Bangs the server is back with a large smile and a pen and pad of paper in her hands.
“What can I get you ladies to drink?”
Kat breaks eye contact with me.
“Water with lemon,” she answers.
“Unsweet tea,” Summer says. “With lemon. But please squeeze the lemon in and leave the carcass out.”
Kat rolls her eyes.
When our server walks off, they each tuck their phones away.
Who’s going to start? I think.
Summer speaks as if she’s heard my thoughts. “So where do we start?”
Katrina’s leg is moving ninety miles an hour under the table, even faster than mine. “Let’s start with Rita,” she says, looking at me.
A shrill laugh comes from the back room, and Summer and Kat both look at the long table of women.
“Is that a baby shower?” Summer says, making a face. “I hate baby showers.”
“Me too,” Kat says. “I mean, seriously, buy your own shit. Don’t make everyone else buy things foryourbaby. You’re the one who got knocked up.”
Summer nods. “Exactly.”
I look between them. “Anyway.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in a public place,” Summer says, looking around.
“It’s not like we’re having sex on the table, Summer,” Kat says. “We’re just talking.”
How very Kat of her. I remember her tactics well. It’s how she gets control. Kat leans in. Summer and I follow suit. “Rita,” she says. “What the hell is going on?”
“How did you learn about Heather?” I say instead of answering her.
