​​​Chapter Forty-Two
Natalie

I skip through the days, avoiding the cracks. I wake up early. I leave early. Earlier than both of them. When Jerry reaches for me at night, I’m not there. I’m on the couch curled up like a child. At work, there’s a grim smirk on Hootie’s, face but he doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t call me in to fire me either. He certainly doesn’t ask to see me at the condo again. I guess he wants to keep things status quo and not spark some sort of scandal. And that’s fine.

Just fine.

I don’t mean to do it, but I do anyway. I go to the liquor store in Junction after my early evening lunch at TGI Fridays. It’s the first Saturday in a long while that I don’t need to go waste time there anymore, but I feel like I need a friend. So first, I go and see the waitress.

She brings me my broccoli cheddar soup and then slides into the booth. It’s slow this time of day, plus her manager, Dave, had a doctor’s appointment.

“Double Dee’s. I’ve driven by that place before. What’s that like?”

“A barrel of kittens,” I say in between bites. I study the buttons on her vest, her name tag that spells Tiffany with an “ie” on the end. She has freckle-ly hands and there’s a puff of red bangs at the top of her head. I get the urge to tell her her name doesn’t make sense. But I don’t because that’s not what friends do. I guess.

“I imagine it would be tough. It’s tough enough doing this job. I can’t imagine having to wear that.” She nods at what’s under my coat. I nod with her.

“It’s no picnic. But it pays the bills.” Barely. “You married? Got kids?”

“Oh, no. I’m saving up for Europe. I’m going to Italy, might find a rich Italian man to run away with. Who knows?” She laughs, and I try not to choke on my broccoli cheddar. I ponder on how nice it must be to be that delusional, but then I bite my lip hard to punish myself. “How about you?” she asks.

“Married? Was. He died.” Her eyes widen. They’re gold and green and the whites are streaked with bolts of red lightning. They’re the prettiest thing about her.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry...Nancy?”

“Natalie.”

“Natalie. That must be really hard.” I consider that, if it’s any harder now than it was back then. Ol’ Nancy doesn’t think so.

“Everything’s hard. Everything works its way out in the end.” Unless you’re your own worst enemy. I hear it loud and clear, but I know I didn’t say it. I look at Tiffan-ie who’s still wide-eying me. I choke down my last bite of soup and pretend I’m not a crazy person.

“Man, I’m sorry. You guys have any kids?”

“Yes, a daughter. Wren.”

“Oh man, what a beautiful name. I’ve always liked the name ‘Claire.’ Maybe I can convince my Italian man to go for it!” Her face breaks into a smile, and I almost ask her if she’ll take me to her delusional little island where she lives. But then I remember I’m the one hearing voices. “Geez, I better get going. Not sure when Dave will pop back in. That guy’s the worst.” She rolls her eyes to prove it. “But let’s do this again. Maybe the next time you stop by, we can hang out when I get off work.”

“I’d love that,” I say, knowing I wouldn’t, and that I’ll never step foot in this place again.

“Take care, Nan...talie.” She gives me a wink and hops out of the booth. I pay in cash this time and leave her a barely acceptable tip.

It’s not a far walk from the restaurant. It sits at the corner, and there’s somebody already light-footing it out of its double-doored mouth. It tickles me, the way people seem like they’re floating whenever they walk out of a liquor store. But all I feel is the hard rock of truth in my belly as I find my way in.