word. You might hear from her. She’s having a hard time getting by.”
“Lyle hasn’t said anything,” she said.
“Lyle has always been Switzerland where you two were concerned, which is why Emma knew so little about you and Jock. But get ready—one way or another, you’re going to run into her. Because I’m planning to see her again.”
“What? What’s that about?”
“If you two can’t reconcile, that’s your deal. I’m not angry with Emma or with you. And I want to see her again.”
“You act like you have a thing for her or something,” Riley said.
“I told you, she was my friend, too. I’m a little worried about her. It’s important to me to make sure she’s all right.” He stood up.
“Do you have a thing for her, Adam?” she asked directly. Her brother, so handsome, such a wonderful man, was rarely in a relationship even though women sighed as he passed. She had even once said, It’s okay if you’re gay, you know. And he had replied, And it’s okay if you are.
“You want to date her, is that it?” Riley asked.
“We had a glass of wine together,” he said. “It was good to see her. We talked a little bit about Maddie, about her return home after that sideshow back east, the difficulties of finding work. She asked about Mom, about Grandma and Grandpa. Except for Lyle and the old widow she rents from, she’s pretty much alone, but we had a nice hour or so together and I was really happy to see her again. While all that mess was going on in New York with her husband, then his suicide, I thought about her a lot. I checked in with Lyle now and then to make sure she was okay. Lyle was talking to her almost daily at the end—he was her sole emotional support. I should have called her. I think Lyle would’ve given me her number, but I didn’t ask. I decided to wait awhile, see how things shook out, then there was the suicide and feds all over her possessions. I think what she endured must have been unimaginably painful, worse than most things I can envision. You know that Emma, like you and I, was left orphaned when her dad died, except we had Mom and who did she have? Rosemary, that coldhearted bitch. So yeah, it was nice to see her, talk to her, get reacquainted. I offered her a letter of recommendation. I gave her your business card. She probably won’t ever call you or ask you for work, but I’m the one that gave her the card so don’t be surprised. And if you don’t mind me saying so—I think you owe her.”
“Oh, God, don’t lay that on me! I begged her forgiveness for Jock, which she did not give me, and I can’t even repeat the horrible names she called me. She didn’t leave here a broken woman, she—”
“Girl,” Adam said. “She was just a girl.” Then more quietly he added, “And so were you. You were girls.”
“Don’t do this, Adam. Don’t get involved with her. I bear no grudge but after what happened, please don’t bring her around. Please don’t tell me I owe her. Not now. I know things turned out badly for her but try to remember that while I was scrubbing floors and trying to hold it together to raise a baby alone, she went from sorority princess to New York socialite, and never sent a word of forgiveness to me.”
“Everything is past now,” he said. “She’s no longer a sorority princess or socialite and you’re no longer scrubbing floors and struggling to take care of your baby.”
She rubbed her temples with her fingertips and groaned. “It’s over and I don’t want it all coming back. Not now. Please, Adam.”
“You can’t erase the past any more than she can. But we can all live with it decently. If she calls you, you better do the right thing, Riley.”
He was really deep down a kind person, and since he was just a boy had felt most comfortable when the whole family was together. He didn’t like loose ends; he was a protector. He’d been like a father to Maddie since she was born. And there was no question, Riley would be lost without him.
“She will never call me,” she said.
“Don’t be too sure. It’s really time to lay this thing between you to rest.”
“I have no jobs but cleaning jobs. She’d have to get her hands dirty.”
He laughed. “You don’t think she got dirty in that New York life?” He was moving toward the door. “I’m just giving you warning.”
* * *
When they were kids, people were used to seeing them together. They were known as Beauty and Brains. They were both smart and pretty, but very different. Emma was a tall, slender brunette with rosy lips and eyes more commonly seen on a doe—large and dark. Riley was blonde, four inches shorter with a tight little body and crystalline blue eyes. Both were incredibly popular. And while they seemed inseparable, they spent time with other friends, as well. Emma was a cheerleader and participated in gymnastics; Riley was in choir, was a pom-pom girl and the star in the school musical—Grease. Emma was the homecoming queen and Riley, the valedictorian.
There was another difference between them that Riley was extremely conscious of—she was the poor one. Emma protested that her family was not rich and privileged, just that her father, being a CPA, was extremely good with money. Plus, his business certainly paid better than cleaning houses.
When they were in grade school at St. Pascal’s, Riley knew she looked shabby. By the time she was in eighth grade, thanks to a lot of babysitting and clever shopping, she was pulling herself together quite well. But Emma grew up in a five-bedroom house on a half-acre lot while Riley lived in a small, old three-bedroom, one-bath house that held five people. She and her mother shared a room. If Riley wanted Emma to spend the night, which was quite often, Adam would take the couch and say, “Only if Mom sleeps in my room because you would get into my stuff!” His stuff, as Riley recalled, wasn’t all that interesting.
Even that hadn’t driven a wedge between them. But Riley was only ten when she said, “My family isn’t always going to be poor, you wait and see.”
In all the years Riley and Emma were best friends, they had about three memorable fights. One was in seventh grade when Riley was invited to the first boy/girl party in their class and Emma was not. In fact, Emma was most deliberately excluded by some jealous girls. It was melodramatic and tragic and there were many tears. They were estranged for a long, painful month.
In their junior year Emma was asked to the prom by a senior and virtually abandoned Riley for the older crowd. She did her dress shopping with senior girls who were part of the new guy’s clique. Riley was crushed and sat home on prom night playing Scrabble with her mother and brother. And Emma’s prom night was a disaster—the guy got drunk and pressured her for sex, so she called her father for a ride home. At nine o’clock.
Both girls were miserable and sad. They sulked and avoided each other for a couple of weeks.
Then Emma’s father was killed in a car accident—a drunk driver.
Of course Riley and her whole family went to Emma at once, embracing her, propping her up. The girls made up and swore they’d never let such differences divide them again. Emma was so sorry she put such stock in those prom friends, and Riley was devastated that she’d begrudged her best friend good times and was so sorry things went so badly. They bonded over Emma’s grief. After all, Riley had lost her own father at an early age. She knew the pain of it too well.
Emma was left with that tight-ass
