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“Let’s not wait to plan it. Your next free night,” she insisted, as much for herself as for him.
With a smile and a wave, Marsie turned away and walked to her car without looking back. When Jason asked her about the date, she would not admit to the lack of spark.
* * *
BECK’S HOUSE WAS completely dark when Marsie pulled her car into the driveway, and she wondered if her friend had gone to bed to cry out the pain. With some misgivings, she grabbed her purse and got out of the car. At the front door, she rang the bell. If Beck didn’t answer within two rings, Marsie would go home and call her friend tomorrow.
Night had settled down on North Carolina, though the streetlights were doing their best to push the black away. Despite her winter coat, a chill ran up her spine. She’d always thought Beck and Neil were forever. Life changed in uncomfortable ways.
Marsie pushed the bell again and checked her watch. She’d wait five minutes.
She had waited four when the door opened. Beck hadn’t turned on her porch light, or the entryway light, but there was enough light from the streetlights for Marsie to see that her cheeks were tearstained and her eyes swollen.
“Do you want company?” she asked her friend.
“I don’t know. I stood by the front door for a long time, knowing you were on the other side and trying to decide if I wanted to see you.” Beck’s eyes closed for several long seconds. “I can’t stand being with myself right now. I don’t know why you would want to be with me. Neil doesn’t.”
“You’re my friend,” Marsie said simply.
“Neil’s my husband.”
“It’s different,” Marsie said, though she couldn’t say why, or why Beck should even care. “Let me in. You don’t have to talk to me. I’ll even go up to the guest room and climb in bed, but that way you aren’t alone in this house.”
Beck’s house was far too big to be alone in. It was too big for two people. Beck bought a house where she had plenty of room for kids, Marsie realized with a start. Master bedroom. Guest room. Office for each person. Craft room. Each room for a child filled with something to keep Beck busy and make her forget that she secretly wanted kids and had married a man who didn’t.
Marsie’s heart broke for her friend.
Beck nodded, then opened the door wide enough for Marsie to step through.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” Marsie asked, walking past her friend to the kitchen. She’d been friends with Beck long enough to make herself at home. And Beck was in no condition to think past her own tears.
“No. Yes. I’m afraid to.”
“Oh, honey,” Marsie said, turning around to envelop her friend in a tight hug. “What are you afraid of?”
“Everything. All the decisions I’ve made have turned to shit. I’m afraid if I have wine, it will feel so good that I’ll never stop.”
“I’ll make us cups of tea, then. You usually have some nice herbal teas.”
“Yeah,” her friend said with a sniff. “Because Neil liked them.”
Marsie plastered a cheerful smile on her face and gave her friend’s arms a pat. “He liked them, but he probably didn’t pack them, so we can drink them while we sit in the living room. You can talk or not talk. That’s up to you.”
In the kitchen, Marsie busied herself with getting the tea ready, filling up and turning on the kettle. Getting out some teas that sounded good, though she wasn’t going to ask Beck which one she wanted. Her friend didn’t need to make extra decisions right now. Once the tea was ready, Marsie added extra half-and-half and sugar to both cups—they needed the sweetness—and set them on the counter.
She placed a hand on her friend’s back. “Let’s go to the living room. It’ll be more comfortable than the stools.”
“Your hand is warm,” Beck said.
“It’s the tea. Your hands can be warm, too. Let’s go, sweetie.”
With obvious effort to overcome the weight of her sadness, Beck pressed her palms against the counter and pushed. Then she shuffled to the living room while Marsie followed with the tea.
“Do you want to talk?” she asked once they had settled onto the couch, each curled up in the corner, sharing a blanket, with heads pressed against pillows piled on the back.
