The Life Intended by Kristin Harmel

Author:Kristin Harmel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books

Nineteen

“S o tell me about these dreams.” My mother leans forward eagerly the next evening and reaches for my hand. “Quick, before Dan gets back.”

We’re eating oysters and drinking champagne at Noemi & Jean, a French bistro my mother read about in New York magazine. It’s the Fourth of July, but Dan hates fireworks and my mother hates crowds, so we’ve retreated to someplace quiet and decidedly unpatriotic. We’re the only ones here. Dan has just excused himself to the bathroom, and my mother’s eyes are bright with curiosity.

“There’s not much to tell,” I say weakly, the words a lie. The truth is, I feel fiercely protective of the world in which Patrick and Hannah live, because I’m afraid that telling someone skeptical the personal details will invite derision and destroy the illusion for me.

“Oh, but there must be, sweetheart,” she insists. She pauses to swish an oyster with a dollop of horseradish down her throat. “Susan told me how much they’ve been bothering you.” She takes a sip of champagne and leans back in her seat.

I glance toward the bathroom. Dan will be returning at any moment. “It’s silly,” I say quickly. “I’m just kind of seeing the life I would have had if Patrick hadn’t died.”

“Are you happy? In this dream?”

“Very happy.” I consider my next words carefully before saying them. “It feels like the life I was supposed to have, if everything hadn’t gotten all screwed up. What if Patrick had grabbed a different cab that morning, or what if his client had canceled the meeting? What if he’d stayed home sick that day? What if I’d asked him to fix the stupid leaky faucet before he left for work, so that he was running five minutes later? There are so many little ways it all could have been so different, and only one way it turned out like this. How can that be right?”

“Because it’s simply the way it is,” she says softly. “What’s done is done. You have Dan. You have a nice life together. You’re happy enough, right?”

I nod, struck by her choice of words. “Happy enough?”

“Isn’t that what most people have?”

“What if I want more?” I ask. But the words get lost as Dan returns to the table and we abruptly stop talking.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, ladies,” Dan says, smiling as he sits down.

“Not at all,” my mother replies, batting her eyes at him. She’s had a soft spot for him since the day I took him to Florida to meet her for the first time, and when my mom likes someone, she turns into a flirt. Of course it’s harmless, but with my own confusion clouding things, her simpering smile and fluttering lashes just annoy me.

We polish off the last of the oysters and champagne and order our entrées and more wine. As the conversation turns to wedding plans, color schemes, and invitation fonts, I feel myself drifting.

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