To the Sea (Follow your Bliss) (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Nicole
headed up Mass Ave and into Cambridge. The two friends strolled through the
glass doors at Saks, Kira leaving her jumbled emotions at the entrance. The
cloudy, grey skies outside contrasted with the brightly colored fabrics and
short hemlines on display.

“How
about a cruise?” Nicole suggested.

“A
cruise?”

“You
aren’t going to Paris, are you?” she asked.

Kira
shook her head.

“I
think that ship has sailed.”

Nicole
laughed. “You have the vacation time still, right?”

“If,
I still have a job,” Kira said, admiring a teal bag.

“You
do, and you’re returning to it in a couple days. You may have been wrong about
Jeremy, but you’re good at your job.”

Going
to the office the next day felt like a manned mission to mars; as impossible as
the events, that had just unfolded in Kira’s life, would have sounded if
someone predicted them months earlier.

“Think
about it. Let’s get you some fun clothes, you know, just in case.”

Kira
consented, letting Nicole sweep her into the rush of retail therapy.

By
the time they were done, Nicole had talked Kira into three bags of clothing, a
bikini, short-shorts, shoes—including a daring pair of Lanvin open-toed heels,
and a pair of brushed-suede booties. Where did Nicole think she was going? If
Kira were going to go anywhere, it would be a spa, where she could anonymously
glide from the massage table to the Jacuzzi in a terry bathrobe.

 “Food.
Need food,” Nicole announced when they returned to the car.

“I
know just the place.”

Kira
directed her to one of her favorite Italian restaurants. She’d been there with
Jeremy, but he complained that the wine list wasn’t extensive enough. However,
Kira loved the ambiance, the candlelight, and the warmth. It almost felt like
an extension of someone’s home kitchen, with its exposed brick and hodgepodge
of tables and chairs. The crusty bread and rustic flair, was just what Kira
loved about it.

Once
seated, Kira realized how hungry she was, but also nervous about their night
ahead. The day, already burdened with the encounter with Blain still carried
with it a trial, the meeting with the women Jeremy dated via the Ivy League
Singles site.

“Pasta.
Just the thing,” Nicole said as she perused the menu. “Bring on the bread,”
Nicole added just before the server left the table. She bit her lip, an old
nervous habit.

“So
about tonight—” Kira wanted to get their discussion about it out of the way,
then enjoy the meal and talk about something, anything, else. The relief of
mindless shopping had worn off. “Who’s the straight-man?”

“Considering
we’re meeting six female Ivy League grads, that’d be Jeremy, as far as I know,”
Nicole said.

Kira
almost choked on her water with laughter. 

“Blain
said the woman accompanying him the night of the accident was Cori or Court.
Courtney was on the list. We never got an email response from her. So—”

“She’s
probably recovering from multiple injuries.”

“Do
you think she knows he died?” Kira asked nervously.

Nicole
heaved a sigh. The server returned with the wine and took their order.

Kira
raised her glass. “To friendship, honesty, and healing. Thank you for being
here for me,” she said.

“While
we’re on the subject of friendship and honesty, I have something to tell you.”

Kira
leaned in, listening intently.

“I
didn’t really think this was the best time, but you ought to know, you’ll be
glad to know. I think it might bring a little bit of sunshine to what otherwise
has been a dark and cloudy stretch.” Nicole bit her lip again and swallowed
hard. “I’m going to have a baby.”

Kira’s
mouth fell open.

“I’m—
I’m so happy for you. I can’t believe it. I mean, I can, but just, wow. A
baby.” As absorbed as she was in her own situation, it hadn’t occurred to her
that really, truly, life does go on. “A baby,” she repeated as the realization
coalesced. For the time being, in that sweet, little Italian trattoria, Kira’s
attention wandered away from Jeremy and her focus shifted solely to Nicole.
“I’ve been so self-absorbed, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe— How far along are
you? When are you due? Boy or girl?” Dozens of questions bubbled up from
somewhere below her grief.

“You’ve
had reason to focus on yourself. I wouldn’t have told you until the time was
right anyway, whether or not everything had happened with Jeremy. Nate and I
are having a party at our place in the city on the Fourth of July. We wanted to
tell everyone then. I figured I’d be so busy with work that no one—well, family
and old friends—would see me until the summer. I’m going to wear this fabulous
sun dress that will proudly show off the bump.”

Kira
tried to imagine tiny Nicole with a big, round baby-belly.

“We
don’t if the baby is a boy or girl yet. In either case, the name will be July.
Partly because that’s the month Nate and I got together, partly because that’s
when we’ll tell everyone we love about our little bundle of joy, and partly
because of you, Summer.” Nicole paused and smiled broadly at Kira.

“You’ll
always be Summer to me, well and Kira, but Summer too. When we were young,
despite your desire to stay on dry land, you were the embodiment of freedom.
You didn’t have a curfew, wore whatever you wanted, well they were hippie
hand-me downs, but you never had to wear loafers or pleated skirts. In our
teens, you always just seemed so free to me. And you’re my best friend.”

Tears
of love, burgeoning, endless, soulful love for Nicole slid from Kira’s eyes.

“Life
goes on,” Kira commented letting each syllable penetrate her inner world. The
truth of it, like a warm breeze, started to rattle away the bits of doubt that
had been plaguing her.

Chapter Nine

On
the unusually cold spring night, Kira and Nicole arrived at the large office
building on Beacon Hill that housed Ambrose, Roeder and Associates.

Arranged
next to big banks of windows, were several lounge areas with overstuffed tweed
chairs, tables, and exotic potted plants. They debated waiting there, but then
Kira pointed to a coffee shop around the corner from the elevator.

“Hmm.
Should we wait here, what if the women see us and bolt in the opposite
direction? Or by the coffee shop, less likely to make a scene, you know, if
they’re nuts.” She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and unbuttoned her coat.
“I’m not doing my best thinking. I want to get this over with.”

“You
can rely on me for logic and reason,” Nicole said. “Anyway, they’ll be looking
for Jeremy, not two women,” Nicole reminded her. “How about the chairs by the
coffee shop? That way it’ll be private, but still within ear shot of other
people, less likely for a Real Housewives of Boston kind of scene.”

Kira
agreed and Nicole sent out six texts that each read,

Meet
at the coffee shop at 9. Don’t be late.

Kira’s
stomach fluttered as she tried to distract herself with a magazine found on one
of the tables. At least with Blain she knew to expect a nasty earful; her
imagination raked at her with unknowns. Kira checked the time on her phone.

8:56.

“Think
of this as public service. Maybe they’ll think twice about getting in the car
with a drunk driver. It could’ve been any one of them,” Nicole said.

8:57.
The big glass doors whooshed open. Two women, one wearing a fashionable blazer
with a sequined-cami beneath strode in, the other with her hair in a ponytail
and jeans arrived just behind her. With the confident air of women meeting a
lover, they each walked to the coffee shop.

8:58
.
Kira’s mouth went dry.

8:59
.
The younger one, in jeans, upon not seeing Jeremy waiting for her, ordered a
tall cappuccino. The other woman looked impatiently at her cell phone. Jeremy’s
vibrated in Nicole’s purse. She showed it to Kira.

Where
the hell are you? –V

It
was nine o’clock. Go time.

“Viveca,”
Nicole said softly. She nodded in the direction of the woman in the blazer who
stabbed at the keypad of her phone. Jeremy’s vibrated again.

I
don’t have time for games. Get here within five or I’m leaving. -V

“She
means business,” Kira said after Nicole showed her the text. “The others have
five minutes then. I don’t want to do this twice.”

Nicole
nodded.

Just
then another pair came in, a brunette wearing a plunging dress and the other,
possibly the Brown student— the closest University listed on the website aside
from Harvard. Kira assumed that since they just sent the initial email out
earlier that day, all the women had to be local.

She
watched them eye each other. She wondered if it was suspicious that there were
six women, including Nicole and herself, all in their twenties, waiting around
an office-building coffee shop after hours. Another woman stalked in, wearing
stilettos. The five minutes Viveca offered were almost up. She paced irritably.
Finally, the last girl came in, looking appropriately bewildered.

Without
thinking, Kira called out, “Jeremy.”

She
didn’t want to go through with any of it, but when she saw all the women in
person, women with lives, feelings, careers, and families, she knew what she
had to do.

“Excuse
me,” Kira called clearly. “Jeremy won’t be coming to meet any of you tonight.”
The girl in jeans and Viveca edged closer, the latter wearing a stony
expression. “I was Jeremy’s wife, but I didn’t come here to reprimand or
confront you.” She had their full attention. The one in stilettos sat.

“I’m
sorry to do this, like this.” Kira motioned around the building. “But I didn’t
know what else to do. There are some things I have to tell you.”

An
abrasive scratching echoed as they dragged chairs closer. When they’d all
settled, Kira cleared her throat.

“Jeremy
passed away.” Tears nipped at Kira’s eyes. She looked to Nicole who urged her
on. “He died in a car accident. He was the driver and another woman, Courtney,
I believe also from the Ivy League Singles dating site, was in the car with
him. He had a couple dozen women tagged on his profile, but it seemed you six
and Courtney were the most actively involved with him. She didn’t die, but was
seriously injured. He’d had a lot to drink that night.”

A
few of the women’s eyes moistened, one wringed her hands.

“I’m
really sorry. He had some problems, namely honesty, which I didn’t allow myself
to see. I just wanted you all to know in case, like me, you cared about him.”
Viveca stood up.

“Done?”
Seven heads turned to look at her in shock. “Yeah, I’m sorry and all that, but
I’ve got to go.” She strode out of the building.

The
remaining women offered Kira awkward condolences. They knew he was married; he
probably sweet-talked them with stories of betrayal or other lies about Kira.

“I
only found out about his infidelity recently so the funeral happened a few
weeks ago.” Kira went on, “I don’t really have anything else to say.”

Nicole
put her hand on Kira’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming and listening,” Nicole
said. With that, they hurriedly exited, leaving the remaining women to sort out
their shock and emotions.

The
strings that held Kira together loosened, she wondered if it was possible for
someone to actually fall apart. She needed to sit down. When the night air met
her face, she let out a loud, stilted, sigh of relief. “That’s over.” Then, she
let herself cry.

“You
handled it so well. You left out the shameful parts and the parts that might
have hurt them. It was admirable. You could have gone ape shit you know.”

Kira
let out a choked chuckle not knowing whether to let her tears turn into
laughter. A sudden sense of lightness hinted at the faintest glow, brightening
inside.

Nicole
continued, “I would’ve. One hundred and five pounds of pure rage would have
been flying at them like mad fists of fury.”

“I
suppose that would’ve been more appropriately directed at Jeremy.”

“True.”
As they walked back to the car, Kira had hoped for a sense of closure, but
something still nagged at her.

“Then
there’s Courtney. The final piece of the puzzle,” Nicole said.

***

Before
crashing that night, Kira called the hospital to talk to Nurse Laura Ramirez,
hoping she could help.

“I’m
not supposed to share this info,” Laura said.

“I
think you understand the circumstances,” Kira said vaguely, hoping she picked
up her meaning. “I’m just looking for answers. Or maybe closure. I don’t know—”
Kira said trailing off.

The
nurse hastily informed Kira that the woman who’d been in the accident with
Jeremy was indeed Courtney, last name, Lancaster. Kira scoured the internet to
find a match, but then she realized her number would be on Jeremy’s phone.
Neither Kira nor Nicole recognized it before because he’d saved it as Court L.
Kira overlooked it thinking it had something to do with a courthouse, not a
person.

Kira
tossed and turned for the first two thirds of the night and then sunk into
sleep only for her eyes to pop open before dawn. For mere seconds she felt
refreshed. Then fatigue mingled with the unknowns that lay ahead.

Around
ten a.m., Kira made the call from Jeremy’s phone hoping Courtney would be more
likely to answer if she saw the caller ID showed his, rather than her name.
Kira wasn’t sure if Courtney knew the details about Jeremy’s death, because
strictly speaking hospitals didn’t release information except to next-of-kin.
Though Nurse Laura found her way around that rule, so maybe Courtney knew. Kira
took the risk and pressed call.

“Hello,”
answered a scratchy voice.

Nicole
sat alongside Kira on the sofa to listen in. She took her best friend’s hand in
hers.

“Hi,
my name is Kira. I was Jeremy’s wife.” The line was quiet. “Please don’t hang
up.”

“What
do you want?” Courtney asked. She sounded like she’d been sleeping.

“I
was wondering if I could meet with you. I just want to talk.”

“I
don’t understand.”

“I
found out some things about Jeremy, things I’d like you to know. You were the
last person he was with while still conscious.”

Nicole
gave Kira’s arm a squeeze.

“Are
you still there?”

“Yes.”
Courtney hesitated. “Sure. Fine. I’m at Hillsborough Recovery Center. Visiting
hours are from one to three.” She hung up.

The
next two and a half hours crept by. Like a complicated puzzle, Kira couldn’t
figure what to say to Courtney.

They
arrived at the recovery center at one. From the hallway, Courtney looked young,
with burgundy red hair that reminded Kira of Brianna from the Bachelorette. She
wore a brace around her head and casts on her legs. She looked up at Kira from
the bed. Dark circles rimmed her eyes.

“I’m
Kira. This is Nicole. I’m so sorry this has happened to you. This must be so
hard.” The words spilled out sloppily.

Courtney
sat mutely in the bed and then looked at Kira sharply. “You have no idea how
hard this is.”

“You’re
right, but listen, I want you to know that—” but unlike when talking to the women
in the office building, words failed her. Kira wasn’t sure what she wanted
Courtney to know.

“He
loved me. He said so. He promised to take me to France, the Caribbean, to
Mexico. He said he was going to leave you and—” Courtney started crying.

Maybe
Jeremy said those things, maybe not, but Kira could see that she loved him. She
wanted Courtney to know the truth.

“He
was with a lot of women from that dating site you were on. Maybe those things
he told you were true, but maybe not. We’ll never know.” Kira cursed herself
for speaking so poorly.

“Of
course they’re true. You weren’t making him happy. He told me everything, how
absorbed you were in your work, how cold and withholding. I could’ve made him
happy. I did whatever he asked me. He treated me really well.”

Nicole
nudged Kira to go and not upset her any further.

“I’m
sorry, Courtney. I just want you to know that, life will go on.” She turned to
leave. Tears streamed down Courtney’s cheeks, but there wasn’t anything else
for Kira to say.

Back
in the safety of the car with Nicole, Kira started crying, fearing she’d
failed. “That wasn’t how I expected things to go. I don’t know—” Kira
blubbered.

“Those
were just words from a scared girl. Maybe she just didn’t get it. Or maybe
Jeremy really did love her, like you said, we’ll never know. But at least it’s
done, right?”

“I
guess it’s over.” But she didn’t believe the words even as she said them. “I’ve
learned more in the last few days about him than I did through our entire
relationship. It’s just that I thought—happily ever after and all that.”

“He
wasn’t
the
one. You know I hate when people say everything happens for a
reason, but who knows, there’s probably a lesson in this.”

Kira
nodded. “What, not to be a hopeless idiot?” Once back in the driveway on Lilac
Court, she wanted to crawl back into bed, but Nicole kept talking, urging her
to keep her head above water.

“You’re
not. I can’t come up with any redeeming qualities on Jeremy’s behalf. He’s
deplorable. But—”

Kira
sighed.

“If
you were watching a reality TV show and it revealed so-and-so did this exact
thing to the lady character, would you be on your feet telling her to dump his
sorry ass? Yes! Yes, you would.”

“It’s
hard to let go of a dream,” Kira said vaguely, struggling with the changing
expectations she had for her life.

 Nicole
looked exasperated. “Ask yourself this, if he’d lived and you’d found out about
all the women, discovered everything that Blain told us, learned about
Courtney, what would you have done?”

“I,
I—”

“Summer
Kira Speranza you’re one of the most courageous, strong, intelligent, and kind
people I know. I’m naming my baby after you. You’d say good-bye. Adios.
Sayonara. Ciao. You deserve respect, honesty, and a man of integrity. Why?
Because you’re a good human being, worthy, beautiful, and smart. You have
integrity, you don’t live under the crushing weight and embarrassment of an
absent, dishonest, and disloyal husband. I know that woman is still in there
somewhere. Girlfriend, you’ve got to find her again.”

Kira
straightened up and lifted her chin.