Bianca lifted Remi’s chin and looked into her eyes. “I will be here with you every step of the way. It will take time, but you will get through this.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive, Rem.”
Bianca escorted Remi into the bathroom and started the shower. Remi sat on the toilet with the lid down, her face in her hands.
“You have to try to organize some things. Have you been taking care of things—the house, utilities?” Bianca asked.
Remi looked up. “I just haven’t been able to do anything, B. Gerard handled everything. The house, the cars. He took care of everything …”
It was true. Over the years she had sort of checked out and let him handle things. She had drifted from the parts of herself that once felt ambitious, driven, even though it wasn’t really who she was at the core. In fact, it was she who had helped Gerard launch his business in the first place. It had been her business plan that had gotten him into doors, her footwork, her late nights with him to brainstorm. But she’d become too comfortable since then, focusing solely on keeping house, raising Zoe, and being a wife. Little by little those things had snatched her identity. She didn’t even remember when the shift happened; it just did.
“I know he took care of everything. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” Bianca gently wiped the tears from Remi’s face with her fingertips. “While you shower, I’m going to make you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I know, but you have to eat. At least try.”
Remi nodded in agreement, and Bianca left. She removed her clothes and dropped them into a pile in the center of the bathroom floor. She stepped into the shower; allowed the water to cascade over her face and mix with her tears. She closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t know how she was going to make it. She rested her back against the cold wall of the shower. Her body slid down the wall until her bottom rested against the coldness of the shower floor. She was stuck there; paralyzed, lost in her thoughts and her what-ifs. What if she had just made it to Gerard’s dinner with his clients that night? They wouldn’t have argued. Things had escalated so quickly. It was her fault that he’d gotten so worked up. The realization of it caused a loud, painful howl to leave her lips—a sound that she didn’teven recognize as her own voice. The pain caused her chest to hurt.
Soon the smell of garlic and onions danced across her nose. As she heard Sade’s voice flowing from the stereo downstairs, she stood, still numb, and wiped the tears from her face with her hands. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a plush towel around her body. She moved into the bedroom and slipped on a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt. A pair of Victoria’s Secret slippers on her feet, she headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Bianca Fuentes Perez was no stranger to the kitchen. Her friend of thirty years was a jack-of-all-trades, and cooking had been one of her specialties, much like Gerard. In fact, there had been plenty of times Bianca and Gerard had challenged each other to cook-offs. While Gerard had mastered his New Orleans–style cooking, Bianca’s traditional Cuban dishes, which were passed down from the generations of women in her family, were second to none. And Remi was obliged to be their judge.
Bianca was dressed in a pair of denim jeans that hugged her shapely figure—a figure that looked more twenty-seven than forty-seven. The tangerine-colored blouse was undoubtedly her own design, a piece from the rack of her boutique in the French Quarter. Her long, dark, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, she smiled at Remi with deep dimples; poured her friend a cup of coffee.
“Two sugars, no cream. Just like you like it.” Bianca smiled and slid the mug in front of Remi. “And I made your favorite, a veggie omelet.”
Remi took a seat at the large island with white granite and watched as Bianca moved around the kitchen with ease. It was the same seat she’d sat in so many times, watching Gerard work his magic in their kitchen, dancing to the sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire, while singing some of the verses—off-key. He always wanted her to taste something.
What does it need?he’d ask, placing a spoon against her lips.
A little less spice, she would always say with a laugh.
He loved things a bit too spicy in her opinion.
“That means it’s perfect,” he would tease, then roar with laughter. “You’re such a lightweight.”
“Because I don’t want my mouth on fire?”
“Because you can’t take the heat, girl!” he would say.
They would talk for hours about everything that came to their mind and laugh heartily. He would tell her how beautiful she was. And she’d blush. Even after twenty-five years of marriage, he still had the power to make her blush.
“Thank you,” Remi said to Bianca while sipping her coffee and staring out the kitchen window. She watched as the leaves on the huge live oak tree blew in the wind. She could hear the loud roar of the trash truck moving through their upscale neighborhood and realized she had missed placing the trash on the curb. She thought of Gerard and of all the things he’d done for their family—removed the trash to the curb, handled the repairs, took care of the lawn, paid the bills. Fear suddenly consumed her.What would she do without him?
Tears streamed down her cheeks again.
Bianca, seeing her tears, grabbed Remi’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Oh honey.”
Remi closed her eyes, tried to get through the moment. It was why she’d stayed in bed so long, for days. It was just easier that way—to numb from the pain. Bianca held her hand until the moment had passed, and then she pulled a plate from the shelf and placed the omelet on it. Then she placed it in front of Remi and handed her a fork.
“Here, Rem. Try to eat something.”
“We were headed to Napa Valley next week,” Remi blurted out.
“I know. For your summer thing.”