Big Summer by Jennifer Weiner

Author:Jennifer Weiner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2020-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I staggered down to my bedroom on legs that felt like frozen logs. I wanted to call my parents, and Darshi, and I’d have to call the Snitzers, too, but before I could do that, my phone started to ring.

“Daphne?” Leela Thakoon’s emphasis-on-every-third-word was warm in my ear. “How are things? OhmyGod, I can’t believe how gorgeous it looks there, you lucky duck! And did you see, your picture last night got more than two thousand—”

“Leela,” I said. My voice was thick. It was all still starting to register, and it still didn’t feel real. “Drue is dead.”

There was a pause. Then a gasp. “Dead?” Leela breathed.

“I woke up this morning, and she was in our hot tub…” I swallowed hard. I could still feel the peculiar stiffness of Drue’s body against mine, the wrongness of it. She would never smile again, never drink another cocktail or kiss another boy. She’d never get married, never go on the honeymoon she’d planned, never have children. Tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Oh my God,” Leela said. “That’s unreal. I can’t believe it!”

“I know,” I said. “I can’t believe it either.”

“What happened? Is there anything I can do?”

“They don’t know. I found her this morning, just a few hours ago. She’s gone now. An ambulance came, and they took her.”

“You found her? Oh, God. You poor thing.” Leela’s voice was sympathetic. “Had you guys been drinking a lot?”

“No. Not me. I don’t know about Drue.” But even as I was speaking, I was shaking my head. Drugs and drinking made you lose control, and Drue was all about keeping a tight grip.

“Daphne, I am so, so sorry. I can’t even imagine what you must be going through. Please, if there’s anything I can do for you…” Leela lowered her voice. “Do you need me to send you something to wear for the funeral?”

I felt tears prickling my eyes, and my throat felt tight. The funeral. The day before, all I’d been thinking about was Drue’s wedding, and now her parents would be planning her funeral instead. It felt heartbreaking, incredibly unfair. “Thanks, Leela. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Take care of yourself. And, seriously, Daphne, if there’s anything I can do for you—anything at all—I’ll have my phone on.”

I thanked her for her consideration. As soon as she’d hung up, I called home. My mother snatched up the phone almost before it got through a single ring.

“Daphne? Oh my God!”

“Hi, Mom.” There was no need for me to ask whether she’d heard the news. The sorrow in her voice told me that she was more than up to speed.

“I just saw a push alert this minute. My God, poor Drue,” she said, sniffling. “And her poor parents. To lose their daughter on her wedding day.” There was a brief, muffled interlude, then my father’s voice was in my ear.

“Daffy, you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, wiping my cheeks as more tears spilled out of my eyes at the sound of my childhood nickname, which my dad hadn’t used since I was seven or eight.

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