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I shrug. “I don’t know. Right now, I just want to get out of Cudahy.”
She nods. “You should do something amazing.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Just something. Something that you can look back on when you’re older and be grateful that you did it. Don’t just drift through life and let it decide where it wants to take you. You go where you want to go.”
She gets a wistful expression when she says that, and I get the sense that her statement is informed by a lifetime of regret. I want to ask her what those regrets are, but I don’t. Some things aren’t meant to share with other people, and I think the best thing I can do for Vivian is allow her to keep her secrets.
She looks me up and down, and a touch of longing comes to her eyes. I know how she feels. I’ll miss her too.
She lifts her gaze to mine and smiles. “Nathan Harlow. Will you share one last glass of wine with me?”
I know what she’s really asking me, and I decide that one more beautiful memory won’t hurt. “I would love to.”
Later, when we move together, it’s powerful and intimate and sweet. It’s the best goodbye two lovers could have.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
I take the back way to Mrs. Winslow’s house. Most of my clients are on this side of the neighborhood now that I’ve covered just about every house on the other side, but the real reason I take the north entrance is so I don’t have to drive past Vivian’s house. I don’t regret the way we left things, but I worry that if I see her again, neither of us will be able to keep things where we left them, and it’s better for both of us if we do.
I almost don’t accept Mrs. Winslow’s invitation to dinner, but I figure I owe her some closure too. She and I didn’t have nearly the same relationship as Vivian and I, but she was as influential in helping me find justice for Lila as I was, so she deserves her own goodbye.
She answers the door and beams at me. “Nate! Why you look dashing as ever!”
“And you look as beautiful as those hydrangeas you take such good care of.”
“Oh, stop! You’re a tease! Come on in! I’ve made roast duck for dinner.”
My eyes widen as I follow her into the house. “Wow. What’s the occasion?”
“To say goodbye, of course!” She turns back to me and smiles. “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve been around a long time. I know that this is the last time you and I will see each other. And that’s all right. Some friendships are meant to last a lifetime, and others are meant to last only for a few weeks. Ours is no less valuable for its brevity.”
I don’t quite know what to say to that, so I only smile.
“Well, have a seat,” she says. “I’ll make you some coffee. I’ll let you take it black this time. You don’t need comfort anymore. Besides, I imagine there’s nothing I could do that could compare to the comfort Vivian Chase gave you.”
I start at that, and she laughs. “Don’t look so embarrassed. You’re a healthy young man, and you’re only doing what all healthy young men do. Besides, Vivian’s ex-husband was trash. Slept with everything female between here and Santa Barbara. At least she waited until after he left to find herself a pretty young thing.”
For the third time, I decide I don’t like Edith as much as I think I do before. But it’s just one dinner, and then I don’t have to deal with her disturbing intuition and disconcerting bluntness.
I sit at the table, and the smell from the kitchen almost makes Edith's shrewdness and directness bearable. I’ve never had roast duck before, but if it tastes like it smells, this might be the most delicious meal of my life. I guess that’s the silver lining to tonight.
She returns with coffee and sets it in front of me. “The duck should be ready shortly. In the meantime, I want to hear all the details.”
“About what?”
She looks frankly at me. "I thought we discussed that pretending to be foolish isn't attractive to you."
I laugh nervously and take a sip of my coffee. “Yeah, I guess we did.”
“Well, then humor me. I’m an old woman, and this is the closest to entertainment I get.”
It’s a little disgusting that her entertainment is hearing all about how two parents murdered their daughter, but I guess it could just be my perspective. I didn’t have any trouble telling Vivian all about it. For that matter, I didn’t have any trouble telling Edith all about my suspicions the last time I was here. So why do I feel so strange about it now?
“Well, Clara killed her. They got into an argument, and Lila threatened to expose Julian’s criminal activities and tell everyone that Clara was covering for him and that she was doing drugs again. Clara freaked out and pushed her to the ground, and she died.”
“Oh, dear.”
