Anne had just enough time by herself to start wondering if she’d ever fully understand what went on in Sadie’s head. She hoped not.
“Apologies. I needed a pen.” Sadie was at the living room archway, folding the note back up. “You know, I think I’ll go back to the tiny house for a little while and rest. There’s a knot in the ceiling over the bed that resembles a tiny Truman Capote, and staring at it is surprisingly centering.” She held out the stationery. “This is for you.”
“You’re not returning my note, are you? I wanted you to have it. It’s yours.”
“I’m regifting. Think of it as a repurposedobjet d’art.” She shook the note in Anne’s direction, and after a moment of hesitation, Anne took it. “Beloved?” Sadie added.
“What?”
“I’m so fucking proud of you.”
For a second, Sadie looked as though she might burst into tears. Then it was gone, and Sadie was gone, too, rushing quickly behind the couch and through the back door.
Anne unfolded the note with awkward and heavy fingers, wishing for the second time today that she kept a pair of reading glasses in her purse. She squinted at her stationery, then inhaled sharply.
For the bravest woman I know.
SAdie
Around the capital letterAthat Anne had originally written, Sadie had signed the swerves and strokes of her own name. She hadn’t erased Anne’s initial, just swaddled it instead, making theApart of something new.
Pulse beating hard, Anne couldn’t stop staring at that letter, at theA.
It wasn’t alone.
The world around her was temporarily quiet, a small and still interlude just for Anne before the inevitable sound of feet coming down the stairs, the conversations she’d have, the next steps she’d take. For the moment, though, she sat in a chair in her best friend’s son’s home, looking at a wrinkled piece of paper, and she began, just a little bit, to heal.
Chapter 16
Anne wasn’t alone in her house, not after she flicked on the light switch by the front door. She was met with Sadie’s absence, announcing itself in all the spaces where Anne couldn’t see her, in all the awful quiet that didn’t have her noise.
Somehow, Anne had to get herself through an entire week of this. Six days by herself: just Anne’s Sadie-less house with its drained walls and dead doors, like pale bone with no flesh.
And she’d try not to think about the fact that Sadie hadn’t promised Anne anything except that she’d return by Sunday and that they’d talk then. No guarantee the love of Anne’s life would come home ready for the commitment Anne wanted so badly.
But at least it wasn’t forever, this limbo. That was what she needed to remember. Sadie had given her a real timeline, and Anne could survive it.
In the morning, she’d figure out how. One step at a time.
It wasn’t even sevenp.m. yet, but she’d never felt so exhausted. Everything Anne had inside her she’d used up today, leaving her with weak limbs, hot eyes, a blurred brain. How many calories did you burn coming out three different times to four people in one day?
Anne managed to shamble over to the oversized armchair before collapsing into it with a soft groan of relief. She’d rest here for a few minutes, maybe relax her eyes.
She only realized that she’d dozed off after the jolt that took her back into semiconsciousness. It was fully dark in the room; Anne had slept right through the sunset. Her purse was rudely pressed into her leg, jammed between thigh and seat cushion, and while she tried to decide whether the discomfort was enoughto make moving worthwhile, the bag had the audacity to vibrate—the long kind of vibration that meant someone was calling.
She pulled out her phone, hoping for—no. Not Sadie.
“It’s been a very, very long day, Brooke.” Anne switched on the table lamp next to her, illuminating the room in a gold glow. “What do you need?”
Faint road noise on the other end. Brooke was in the car. “Hal isn’t telling me something. About you.”
The sigh Anne let out was long and deep. Apparently, she wasn’t allowed to take this process at the pace she wanted to. Did everyone’s coming-out experience involve accommodating other people’s feelings? “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“I’mworriedabout you. First, you lose your shit at lunch with Claire and me over Sadie possibly moving away, then your best friend shows up at her son’s house, freaking out, and now Hal is telling me that I should talk to you, which means he knows something. Why does Hal get to know what’s going on and I don’t? Colton, donottake your brother’s iPad. You have your own. No, you don’t get to have two iPads.”
“Fine.” Anne dragged her hand across her face. “I’m gay. All right? That’s your answer. Now you know. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
No response from Brooke. In the background, Kaisley shrieked.