Aubrey heard the door to the teachers’ lounge open. Glanced at her watch—she’d been sitting in the bathroom for nearly an hour, and school was in dismissal. She wiped her eyes, smoothed her unruly hair, straightened her pencil skirt, and emerged to find Linda waiting for her with a look of genuine compassion on her face. Wonderful Linda, who had never believed the nonsense the district attorney spouted and gave Aubrey her teaching job back the moment she got out of jail, even though they lost students over her rehiring.
Aubrey accepted a hug from the older woman.
“You okay?” Linda asked.
“I suppose,” Aubrey answered. She handed Linda the letter. Stared at her own left hand while Linda read. She still wore the wedding band and engagement ring Josh had placed on her finger. The small half-carat diamond solitaire, all he could afford at the time, was still a very high-quality stone. It flashed in the overhead fluorescent light, sparkling, and Aubrey remembered an old wives’ adage: When your ring smiles, your man is thinking of you.
Her man. Her man was gone. How was he thinking of her? Looking down upon her from heaven? She used to believe in things like heaven, and God, and faith, and saviors. Hope.
No more. She’d been living in purgatory too long to believe in anything but hell for sinners anymore.
Linda folded the paper and slowly put it back into the envelope. Her brown eyes were soft and compassionate. “I see your mother-in-law hasn’t changed a lick.”
“Daisy is as Daisy does. At least there’s one constant in my life.”
“I doubt she’ll ever change. She’s always been this way. Even when you were children, she was . . . difficult.”
Sometimes Aubrey forgot that Linda had known Daisy longer than Aubrey had. Linda had been a part of the school for more than twenty years now, rising up the ranks. She’d been friends with Aubrey’s mother, but not Josh’s. Very few women were friends with Daisy.
Linda slid to the window and glanced out. The lounge faced the playground on the back of the school, empty now that the children were headed home. It was the perfect sanctuary when the teachers needed a smoke. Linda’s ancient Zippo lighter flared, and a quick breeze came through the slitted glass. Aubrey smelled the fragrant oil, nearly drifted back in time again, but the snap of the metal brought her back.
Linda blew a long stream of blue smoke out the window, smiled at her young friend.
“More than one constant, Aubrey. Are you working tonight?”
Aubrey made ends meet working two jobs now—teaching at the Montessori school and working part-time at Frothy Joe’s, a coffee shop near her house.
She shook her head. She had the evening off.
“Why don’t you join me then? It’s open mike night at Frothy Joe’s. We can have a little dinner afterward.”
“That’s kind of you, Linda, but I think I’ll pass. I need . . . time.”
Time. Stupid excuse, Aubrey. She’d had five years already—what were another few hours going to gain her?
Linda set the burning cigarette on the window ledge and took both of Aubrey’s hands in hers. “Aubrey. Listen to me. You are entering dangerous territory here. You have to keep moving forward. You can’t shut down again. We nearly lost you last time. If you’re not up for dinner out tonight, why don’t I come over and make you something instead?”
Alone, alone, alone. I want to be alone.
Aubrey shook her head. Her voice was still unsteady, but she drew a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’ll be okay, Linda. Promise. I’m going to draw a bath, pour a glass of wine, and relax. Nothing about tonight is different from the past five years’ worth of nights. Josh is still gone. This is just a piece of paper for his mother so she can get the closure she so wants. It doesn’t mean anything more.”
“She’s going to contest the life insurance policy.”
“Let her. I don’t want Josh’s money anyway.”
Linda looked doubtful but, good friend that she was, simply hugged Aubrey to her chest, silently released her. The cloud of cigarette smoke settled on Aubrey’s blouse, and she nearly choked.
Back to her classroom, down the now quiet hallways. The mantra ringing in her ears.
Alone, alone, alone.
Aubrey gathered her purse and keys and walked to the parking lot. The thirdhand Audi Quattro she and Josh had wrecked the afternoon of his disappearance sat forlornly in the parking lot. She needed to get a new car, it had started leaking oil last month and she didn’t have the money to get it properly fixed, but she was loath to part with this one. Josh was so proud the day they bought it, so happy that he’d managed to get such a great deal. She’d gotten the damage to the front bumper and hood fixed, made sure it got regular oil changes, and rotated the tires. Other than the small leak, it ran well enough, reliably turning over day after day.
But it was a constant reminder.