Evelyn and I had just finished doing a sobby postmortem of all the recent developments of the week, including Jana′s murder. Now she had pulled out a bad Greta Garbo accent in an effort to lure me out of the comfy cocoon of my apartment on a Saturday night.
Over the phone, I heard Evelyn sigh. ″Okay, so maybe the sultan′s son I have in mind has a vintage Camaro, not a carpet,″ she said. ″But that doesn′t mean you should sit around the house on a Saturday night moping. Or eating.″
That little dig made me regret having confessed my plunge into the chip dip.
As I covered the phone to muffle the sound of my crunching down on another chip, Evelyn continued, ″Seriously, Kate-the ZuZubees are playing at the Metrodale tonight. I know the lead guitarist in the band really well. He′s dying to meet you.″
″I′ll bet.″
″Well, maybe I haven′t exactly mentioned you to him yet. But still, he′ll be thrilled to meet you once we′re there. So please come to the club tonight with Kyle and me.″
″Kyle? Who′s he? What happened to Liam?″
″Oh, Liam had major baggage,″ she said, dismissing the discarded Liam with a sniff. ″He couldn′t stop complaining about his ex-wife. He called her his ex-hole; can you believe that? How boorish. So I ended the evening early. I didn′t even let him see my new boobs.″
″Serves him right.″
Although I appreciated my friend′s offer of companionship, I dreaded the idea of becoming a third wheel in a new love formation between Evelyn and some guy. And no way did I want to be introduced to a lead guitarist who undoubtedly preferred his groupies googly-eyed and tramp stamped.
″Thanks, Evelyn,″ I said. ″But I think I just want to isolate tonight.″
″Watch out for that urge to be alone,″ she warned. ″You could slide into a depression.″
″I′m fine. Don′t worry.″
″No, you′re not. Anyone can have a few down days, Kate, but you′ve been stuck in this rut for a while. I′m no doctor, but I think you′re clinically depressed. I think you should go see someone.″
″I′m not-″
″No, really. I′ve known you a long time, and I′m worried about you. You′re eating your red-light foods again, you′re not going to the gym with me, and you never want to go out anymore. Those are the signs.″
When I started to protest that I didn′t have any signs, she cut me off. ″Yes, you do. You′re almost turning into a hermit,″ she said. ″You used to love going out clubbing with me.″
″We′ll go clubbing in the spring, okay? I really just feel like hibernating tonight.″
″Hibernating?″ Evelyn′s tone was skeptical. ″That′s only for bears. When you′re with a guy, it′s called ′cocooning.′ But when you′re by yourself, you have a tendency to put on back fat.″
″I′ll go to yoga with you next week, okay?″
After we said good-bye and clicked off, I detached Elfie from my chest and gently set her down on the floor. Then I heaved myself to my feet and made my way to the kitchen. A wave of fatigue washed over me, and I felt as if I could barely stay upright. Maybe it was sugar withdrawal. Or maybe Evelyn was right-maybe I was depressed. All I′d had to eat today were refined carbohydrates-the really evil ones that had nothing in them except major injections of high-fructose corn syrup; someone had once told me that that was what they gave to people in cults to get them to break down mentally. It was time to check out the kitchen for something green and healthy.
I was reaching into my refrigerator when Elfie froze. She scrambled for the bedroom. Before I could figure out what had startled her, I heard a light tapping at the door.
I opened the door and felt a cool rush of air. An angular, familiar silhouette was framed in the camphor-colored light of the shallow front landing.
It was Jonathan.
Chapter 25
Do a Once-a-Month Hair Rescue
To restore shine and smoothness to dull, lifeless hair, you need to give it an overnight deep-conditioning treatment every month. Ask your hairdresser or beauty-supply store for a high-quality deep conditioner. Work in the conditioner during a shower, and then press away the excess water. Don′t towel dry it, though. Then leave the conditioner in all night.
When you wash out the conditioner the next morning, your hair will be soft, sleek, and shiny…
– From The Little Book of Beauty Secrets by Mimi Morgan
Jonathan stood in the doorway cradling an enormous bouquet of burgundy roses in his arms.
″Hi, Kate,″ he said. ″Sorry to come by unannounced. I tried to call. Is it okay if I come in?″
Jonathan′s voice sounded weighted down. It was hard to register exactly how he sounded, because the sight of him had kicked up a sudden sandstorm of emotions inside me. A million tiny shards of feeling blew out of the desert, wiping out clear thought.
″Of course you can come in.″ I swiped the back of my hand across my cheek to brush away any lingering specks of potato chips.
He still had those amazing back-lit blue eyes that I′d fallen for. The rest of his face looked worn and scruffy, as if he hadn′t slept or shaved. Normally Jonathan was perfectly groomed and dressed.
I backed into the living room and dropped onto the vintage bergère chair that I′d bought at a yard sale a few months earlier. Gripping its upholstered arms, I sat there like a woman who was waiting for someone to throw the switch.
Jonathan laid the roses on the coffee table, then took a seat on the couch. The sweet fragrance of the flowers wafted through the room. As we faced each other across the coffee table in silence, I decided not to go for a vase.
Jonathan′s unexpected arrival made me wish I could be teleported by some alien technology into a faraway galaxy-preferably a galaxy named Before. I yearned for that universe because it was the one that had existed before I learned that Jonathan had slept with Gi.
Elfie floated in from the bedroom with her tail rising above her like a plume. Approaching Jonathan cautiously, she took a probing sniff. Then her whiskers twitched, and she made a little purring sound of happiness.
″Hey there, beautiful kitty.″ Jonathan stroked the cat, who proceeded to jump into his lap. After making a couple of turns, she settled into a contented ball.
Elfie′s arrival seemed to put a tiny chip in the ice between us. Jonathan looked at me and said, ″Did you get my phone messages? I left several of them.″
″Four,″ I said. ″No, I didn′t get them. I mean, I did, but I didn′t listen to them. I deleted them.″
″Oh.″
The Adam′s apple bobbed up and down slowly in Jonathan′s neck. ″I wanted to tell you how sorry I was,″ he said. ″That episode with Gi-that never should have happened.″
″That episode? You′re right, Jonathan. It never should have happened. But it did. Why did it?″
″It′s a long, awful story. The bottom line is-I never wanted to hurt you, Kate.″
″You′ve more than hurt me, Jonathan,″ I said. ″You′ve destroyed everything we had together as a couple. I really thought we were special. To me, you were special.″
″Please don′t talk like that.″
″But it′s true.″
Closing my eyes, I heard the heat rise on each syllable as I continued, ″You′ve killed us, Jonathan. You′re a homicide cop, right? You know what murder is, right? That′s what you′ve done to us. Murder one.″