“My place is yours.” My voice rose in volume. “I told you—”
“You did.”
When she cut me off, I thought about Barry again. I’d been thinking about him basically nonstop.
At work, I’d broken a glass beer pitcher, befuddled my new busser with my inability to communicate instructions coherently, and mistakenly ordered three cases of tonic water from my supplier when I’d meant to order sparkling water.
“But that was before a weepy sister and her moody teenager moved in.”
“It’s okay to be sad, Rachel.”
I refocused on my sister. She needed me in real and tangible ways, and what she needed, I felt confident I could give her. That wasn’t the case with Barry. I needed to put my little fantasies about him to rest.
“It’s normal to be sad,” I told her. “Though I hope us being together helps some. It helps me to have you here.”
“It helps me too, and Claire.” Rachel squeezed my hip. “But I see how hard you work, how little time you take off. Besides the gym, what do you do for you or for fun? You don’t seem to have any friends.”
“I have friends.” I said. “Cindy, you’ll meet tomorrow when she brings in the new order. You met Lester today.”
“Cindy is your food rep. Lester is your wine distributer, Addy.”
“Yes, but we talk whenever Cindy comes in. Sometimes,” I said, grasping, “we have lunch.”
“It’s not normal or healthy not to have any relationships outside of your work.”
“I have you and Claire.”
I didn’t mention that Rachel didn’t have friends outside of Daniel. Not that I could see. Not one of her Lakeside acquaintances had contacted her since the funeral, though many had shown interest in her bargain-priced belongings at the auction.
“But no one else.” She sighed. “I didn’t realize how isolated you’ve become until I moved in. That’s not good. It’s because of what Martin did, isn’t it?”
I stiffened.
Rachel was right. Aside from her and Barry, I had no one else in my life to notice I was isolated or to even care. Just a friend I’d been estranged from for seventeen years, and my sister who I’d kept at arm’s length before this.
“Maybe you should consider dating again.”
“I can’t,” I said, and I wouldn’t.
Martin wouldn’t allow me to date. Though he had a girl living with him now, I wasn’t certain that meant his obsession with me was over. In fact, it might mean the opposite.
The beautiful blonde who looked a lot like a seventeen-year-old version of me was the former girlfriend of the lead singer of Tempest. She’d been a member of the band before Warren Jinkins had wronged her. That wrong, I figured, played a part in Martin luring her in. Otherwise, she seemed too smart to be taken in by him. But then again, behind his good looks and his expensive suits, he hid the monster he was inside.
“You could try.”
“No one would understand why I’m the way I am.”
A little dissenting voice inside me whispered that Barry understood, but I swept that notion aside. I’d settled it in my mind that I’d misinterpreted what Barry wanted. Needing to change the subject, I turned the focus of the conversation to her.
“Do you feel like trying?” I asked, and she withdrew her hand.
“No, of course not,” she said stiffly.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Daniel can never be replaced.”
“I know that.” And I agreed.