Page 38 of Cackle

“It’s love,” I say. “I want love.”

“You want validation.” She’s not being mean. Her tone is as soft and warm as ever. She’s being honest. Only the honesty is just as bad.

“Yeah. Maybe I do.”

“You’re never going to get it. Not from someone else, darling. Not from Sam.”

“He did love me.”

“No, pet,” she says, “he didn’t. Or else you wouldn’t be here crying over pancakes.”

I bring my hand up to my face. My cheeks are wet. I didn’t realize.

“Annie, I only say this because I know you’re above what you seek. Meaning, you’re . . . What’s the word? Lowballing? Is that what it is?”

“I guess.” I can’t help but laugh a little. It’s funny hearing her say it with her haughty accent.

“Your life can be so much more than chasing after some domestic fantasy.”

“I don’t think that’s what I . . . I don’t know. I don’t know if that’s what I’m doing.”

She skewers a strawberry with her fork. “All right. I don’t presume to know everything.”

She winks at me.

I reach with a shaky hand for my coffee. I drink it black.

“I just ask that you hear what I’m saying to you, Annie. Yes?”

“I hear you.”

“Good,” she says. “Now, onto other things. How’s work? How’s your class?”

I feel my face fall, my muscles drooping in defeat at the thought of school.

“Oh, dear, I’ve done it again!”

“No, it’s fine. Work is fine. There are a few kids in my afternoon English class who are . . .”

“Fucking assholes?” she asks.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Want me to curse them for you?”

“Sure,” I say.

“Done.”

In the morning sun, her skin is flawless. Pearlescent. She doesn’t have a single wrinkle, a single pore. She keeps insinuating she’s old, older than me, but she doesn’t look it.

“I’m sorry you didn’t sleep well last night,” she says. “I feel like a failure as a host.”

She flags down Tom and asks him to refill our coffee mugs.

“You will come back, won’t you?” Her eyes go wide and watery.

There’s a vulnerability to her. I recognize it clearly because it’s so familiar to me. It’s like we’re wearing the same perfume. It triggers such a profound empathy I want to leap across the table and hug her.