Page 88 of The Unraveling

“Listen, Mimi, I’ve got to go, but I’m going to call you in a few days, okay?”

She smiles. “Okay, honey.”

Sensing the end of the call, the aide comes into frame, saying, “Thanks for calling!”

“Yeah, thanks—hey, I have a question. Did someone named—” I feel ridiculous even saying it. “Did someone named Jordan speak with my grandmother today?”

She looks quizzical and then says, “Let me check the call log. We always keep track in an app, here, it’s somewhere…”

She puts the camera at an unflattering angle as she goes through the iPad.

Finally, she says, “Looks like someone named Jordan Morales called around nine. Now that I see his name, I remember he calls fairly often. Checking in.”

“Huh.”

“Is that all right, miss?”

“I’m sorry, it’s fine,” I say.

“Do you want me to remove him from the list of callers?”

“No, it’s okay. I was just surprised he called,” I say. “It’s good.”

She nods. “If you change your mind, you just let me know. You’re the secondary contact on the account and have been given full privileges, so anything you need.”

“Secondary? So the primary would be…”

She checks her computer. “Alistair Cavendish.”

I let out a humorless “Ha.”

After Alistair’s offer, I sent the information to him, but part of me didn’t actually believe he would do it.

When she sees the expression on my face, she says, “Is everything all right, Ms.Banks?”

No. And yes. I don’t know.

“Of course,” I say, pleasantly. “Thank you so much, I’ll see you next time.”

I hang up.

I need a drink.

I put on my shoes and leave the apartment feeling more unsettled than anything else. It’s like finding out there’s a camera in your home, that someone could be or has been watching you for longer than you knew.

I talk myself into feeling better as I walk against the cold wind, pulling my knitted hat down over my ears.

Alistair just did what he thought I wanted. And it is what I wanted. As for Jordan, well, he loved Mimi. He hadn’t known her long, but the two of them really connected. The first time he met her, I saw tears in his eyes when we left her, and when I asked him why, he just said that he wished he’d known her when there was more of her to know.

My heart threatens to break, and I remind myself of Manon, and how the bills are paid, and how nothing is actually wrong.

Everything is just fine. Totally, completely, absolutely…fine.

Definitely.

I have gravitated toward the theater, which is the area I know the best, and decide to dip into Gravitas, the little wine bar where the dancers often go after rehearsal if they’re being bad and not just going home to have water and herbal tea.

I just need a drink and maybe a carb. I can tell that the reality of all the things I have to deal with is simmering under the surface, threatening to reach a boil and to spill over. I know that if I go home, I’ll just feel worse.

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