Every time I wore the necklace from there on out, she would smile just as big. It was one of the easiest ways to put her in a good mood, and it soon became my way of apologizing to her after I’d acted a little too snarky or rolled my eyes one too many times. I would go upstairs and when I came back to the kitchen, I would be wearing it, and she would know that I loved her, and I didn’t mean to make her life harder.
Now, I wore the necklace when I needed a pick-me-up, or when I was nervous about something.
For tomorrow, it was a little bit of both.
* * *
I arrived at Jonah’s house with fifteen minutes to spare before he’d said he would be ready to leave. In the email he sent me, which had been written using such formal language, I felt a little insulted, he told me to arrive at seven on the nose. It was a three-hour drive, and even though the meeting didn’t start until 11, he wanted to have time to go over our notes and to meet up with Vince beforehand.
In front of his house, I put my car in park, and wondered whether or not I should go up to the door and knock. The tone of his email combined with the fact that I was pretty sure he had been avoiding me the past couple of days, was making me feel a little less sure of myself all of a sudden. I ran my fingers along the chain of my necklace and laughed.
“Kat Stevens isn’t afraid of stuff like this,” I said, trying my best to mimic my mother’s voice. “Kat Stevens isn’t afraid of anything.”
I checked my face in the mirror, made sure there was nothing in my teeth, then grabbed my work bag and travel mug, and walked up to the door. Jonah’s house was gorgeous, just as I’d expected it would be. It was older, with dark red brick and a long walkway leading from the front sidewalk to the porch. As I stepped up to the door, I noticed a heavy brass knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. I reached a hand out and curled my fingers around the freezing cold metal, taking a breath before bringing the ring in the lion’s mouth up and letting it fall down a few times with an audible rapping sound.
No one came to the door for nearly a minute, prompting me to check the time on my phone and also to check my email to make sure I had no updated messages. Then the door opened, and a sleepy looking Jonah stood on the other side. He was half dressed, with a few buttons of his shirt undone and no jacket.
“Oh hi,” he said. “You’re early. I was thinking you were Vic’s friend but—well, c’mon in. I’m running a little behind.”
I smiled. “Thanks.” Stepping over the threshold, I caught a glimpse of what the foyer looked like with the morning sun pouring in through the open door. It was like something out of a painting, and while I didn’t normally notice such minute details, it took my breath away. “Your house is amazing.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” He closed the door behind me and motioned with his arm down the hall. “There’s fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen if you want to refill your mug.”
“That would be great, thanks.” I walked slowly down the hall, admiring each and every interior decorating choice, down to the ornate door handle chosen for the door to the hall closet. “Did you use a decorator? Or was this all you?”
He smirked. “Oh, none of it was me. I don’t have an eye for this stuff. Not at all. Erin, on the other hand, was so creative, so good at visualizing a physical space and figuring out what would look good where. I don’t even want to think about what this place would look like if I had decorated it myself.” He shivered as if the thought legitimately unnerved him, and I laughed.
“I’m sure you would’ve done a fine job.”
At the end of the hallway, to my right, I spotted the familiar signs of a kitchen and walked in that direction. I made for the coffee pot and poured myself some more. “It’s been a few years since you lost her, right?” I knew it wasn’t the most polite question to ask, but now that he had brought her up, I wanted to know more. I wanted to know how he was coping with her death,ifhe was coping with it. Deep down, I maybe just wanted to hear him say that he was totally over it, that he was so far outside of mourning that I need not feel bad about putting the moves on him in the house his late wife decorated.
“Yes,” he said. “Though some days it feels like it was just yesterday that I got the call. For Vic too.” I saw his eyes downcast in sadness.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s nothing. Vic and I just had a long talk last night, and I didn’t sleep well, hence my late start this morning.”
“What sort of talk?”
Finally, he looked up at me. “I made the mistake of calling her school the other day, even though I know she hates it when I do that. I thought she only disliked it because it was embarrassing, but last night she told me the real reason. Every time she hears her name coming over the loudspeaker at school, she is reminded of the day I called her from the hospital to tell her that her mother died.”
I gripped my coffee mug tightly and drew in a sharp breath. My mind immediately went to a place I never let it go—to the day my own father had called me to tell me we lost my mom. Jonah must’ve noticed a change in my demeanor because he cleared his throat and said, “Sorry. This is all really heavy for this early in the morning. I’ve just been thinking about Erin a lot these days. Not sure why.”
He sighed, and then walked over to me. For a second, I didn’t think he was going to stop. I prepared myself for his touch, unsure of what exactly had come over him, but at the last second, he turned to the side and reached into the cupboard right above my head. “Excuse me. I need to grab a mug.”
“Oh yeah, right.” I took a step to the side and sipped my coffee. It took me a few seconds to be once again fully present after reliving the worst moment of my entire life, but finally I snapped back to reality. I smiled at him and pushed on with the conversation, despite how awkward it was. “Well, I’m sorry I never got to meet her. Erin, I mean.”
“You might’ve met her,” he said. “She was at the office a lot, especially when we first started dating, which would’ve been before you moved out of the country.”
I nodded. “I probably did. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember. That was so long ago, and—”
“You’re not good with faces,” he added.
I frowned. “What?” Then I remembered, this was the lie I told him when he questioned why I hadn’t recognized him when we passed each other that first day in the lobby. “Oh, yeah,” I laughed. “It’s true, I’m just terrible with faces.”
He smiled, got himself some coffee and took a big sip. I tried not to stare at the V where his shirt was still open. “She would’ve liked you,” he said. “She always liked people who weren’t afraid to speak their minds, and who weren’t afraid to argue. Oh, and she would’ve totally gone toe-to-toe with you over the wholeFrasierthing. She loved that show.”
“Everyone seems to,” I said. “Everyone except me.”