The Scarlet Letter Scandal (21 page)

“But you can’t get the
New York Times
,” said Jake, amused at the description of the surreal island. He noticed how she lit up when she talked about the place.

“Believe it or not,” said Eva, “if you’re an early riser, you can get one of twelve copies of the NYT delivered to the island at either Paul’s Café OR the bait-and-tackle, depending on how much time you have to listen to the watermen tell actual fish stories at the latter.”

“Sounds like heaven,” said Jake, with a touch of sarcasm. “Who needs a Dean and Deluca when there’s a bait-and-tackle shop?”

“You have to appreciate a place you can only get to by drawbridge,” said Eva. “When you cross the bridge, it’s like crossing back in time.”

She looked at Jake.

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said, looking into Eva’s eyes with a smile in his own. He glanced at his watch, quickly gathering items from the table because he was obviously late as usual for another meeting. “You just let us know what you need. We’re here.”

“Thanks, Jake,” said Eva, and she watched him walk out of the room.

“He’s right,” said Greg, standing. Eva internally sighed, glad the meeting was coming to an end. “You will be missed.” His glance toward the door made Eva wonder if Greg knew more than she thought about secrets in her past.

“I will obviously be in touch,” said Eva.

“Your office will still be here,” said Greg. “We’re not going to give that corner spot away to some junior partner just yet.”

Eva smiled at him, standing and picking up her things to leave the office. She exited the building and headed toward the train station and an uncertain future.

L
isa sat at the counter of her shop, Blackbirds Pie, with her laptop open. The scent of fresh croissants baking in the oven filled the air as she took a deep breath and paused over the link to open her email, steeling herself for another round of condolences. It had been nearly two months since her husband died, but she only checked her email once a week or so, and messages still trickled in, each one a fresh reminder of the tragedy. Of course, people meant to be kind, but it was difficult for a wound to heal when she had to relive it over and over with a distant cousin or former classmate.

She dropped her hand away from the laptop when she heard the tiny “mew” of the kitten. She smiled and stood up from her stool, opening the door to the back office. She scooped up Brûlée, the tiny amber-colored kitten she’d received in a basket from Maggie and Eva on the day she moved into the apartment over Maggie’s shop. Movers had come and packed away her suburban belongings to a storage unit. Since the apartment was furnished, she’d brought only her clothes and a few significant items; she’d been surprised there wasn’t much she needed with her.

“Happy Homecoming!” Maggie had said that day last month as she and Eva arrived. Eva carried a basket full of bottles of wine and boxes of chocolate, and bath products for the claw-foot tub. Maggie carried a litter pan filled with cat food, a bag of litter, a food dish, and a tiny basket inside that held the world’s cutest kitten.

“Please tell us you’re not allergic,” said Eva. “I told Maggie we should call you first before bringing the poor little thing…”

Lisa beamed from ear to ear, taking the tiny kitten into her arms. “Brûlée!” she’d exclaimed. “Is it a girl or a boy?”

“It’s a girl!” replied Maggie. “Congratulations!”

“Of course we will call her Brûlée because she’s just the color of the caramelized sugar on custard—my favorite dessert!”

Maggie and Eva exchanged a quick glance, mentally high-fiving each other for the decision to bring the tiny pet.

“Well, I take it you’re not allergic,” said Maggie. “Congratulations on your lovely new home and your adorable new roommate!”

“Oh, I can’t thank you both enough!” said Lisa. “Maggie, you were so sweet to let me rent this spot over your shop in the first place and now this—she is perfect!”

The caramel-colored kitten looked up at Lisa with its huge green eyes and purred as Lisa nuzzled it against her neck. “She will have to come to work with me every day so she’s not lonely at home!”

Lisa smiled at the memory. She opened the door and scooped the kitten up, happy for a distraction from checking her email. Normally Brûlée slept on the sofa or in the windowsill of Lisa’s office; Lisa didn’t want any customers who might be allergic to even see the cat, so she wasn’t allowed in the front of the store.

But on hearing that tiny “mew,” Lisa made an exception, bringing her to the counter to no doubt wander around her keyboard, arching her back and curling her tail around the top of the computer so Lisa could barely see the screen. She smiled, nudging the kitten aside, and opened her Gmail account.

She was shocked to see an email from her graphic designer friend Ben; they’d been out of touch for what seemed like forever.

Lisa wiped the tears running down her face. It was kind of Ben to get in touch. He had done such a great job with the graphics for her shop, and when she made the decision to give her marriage all her energy, she had missed the strong attraction they’d shared even though she hadn’t really acted on it other than one kiss. She thought of that kiss often and admitted she’d thought of it even more since her husband had died.

Would it make her a terrible widow to rekindle the flirtatious friendship with Ben? Brûlée meowed, arching her back against Lisa’s black sweater, which would feature tan cat hair for the rest of the day. Lisa picked the kitten up, placing her on her lap (jeans didn’t show cat hair as much), and was surprised to find herself answering right away since she thought she’d decided to wait and think about it.

She hit send before she could rethink it twenty times and reconsider whether to respond at all, much less what to say.

Brûlée looked up at her with unblinking eyes.

“What?” Lisa asked the cat. “Are you ashamed that your mother is a horrible, slutty widow?” And then she laughed. The truth was that hearing from Ben, next to getting the kitten and being thankful for having such amazing friends, was the best thing that had happened to her in what had been an awful year. Damned if after everything she’d learned from the required reading list of the Scarlet Letter Society book club she was going to feel guilty about having feelings for a man besides her husband when the husband was dead!

She was tired of feeling guilty. Guilt for not missing Jim more. Guilt for choosing a cheaper urn to save money, sending it with all his belongings to his parents’ house. She barely spoke to them at the memorial service his family held; she just couldn’t handle it at the time; still rarely thought about any of it. Guilt was exhausting and she was sick of it. She stood up, walked into the office, and placed the cat back on her sofa bed. She used a rolling lint brush from her desk on her sweater to remove the cat hair, closed the door, and walked over to take the croissants out of the oven, thinking about how long she’d wait before checking to see if Ben had responded.

When Lisa returned to her laptop, she was pleased to see a new message had arrived from Maggie.

“She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.”

-
The Scarlet Letter
, Nathaniel Hawthorne

Meeting of the Scarlet Letter Society

Zoomdweebies Café

Friday, December 6, 2013

5:30 a.m.

Well, girls, I haven’t sent one of these out in a while! But since SLS has officially been in the newspaper I thought we’d get together old school for a coffee at Z’s; plus we can do a little gift exchange if we can manage to drag Eva off that island again before the holidays. Note the traditional early start time- you know, so we can get past the paparazzi. Wonder if the “Keytown Mouse” will be hiding in the corner?

See you then,

Maggie

“The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread.”

-
The Scarlet Letter
, Nathaniel Hawthorne

The meeting would be a welcome bit of normalcy in her search for exactly that. Lisa laid the croissants on the table and opened the door to the office to the sounds of a mewing kitten she knew was waiting for her little cup of milk.

As she laid down the milk she heard the soft “ping” indicating a new email had arrived.

Lisa smiled. She responded, setting up a coffee for the following week since she didn’t want to seem desperate. She chose an old-fashioned diner on the outskirts of town, too embarrassed for anyone near her shop to see her with another man so soon. She tried to squander thoughts of it being “too soon” since her husband’s death to be seeing Ben. But she also knew the only thing that had stopped the magnetic attraction between her and Ben had been her commitment to her husband and potential family, and all of that was gone now, leaving a huge empty space that even an adorable kitten couldn’t fill.