Page 19 of Rebound

“Granny, I’m a liberal arts grad—I’m not entirely sure how useful that is. And anyway, I’m not going to starve. Elijah isn’t… He wouldn’t…”

“Screw you over in a divorce? Nobody ever thinks that. But let’s say you’re right. Let’s say you get a fair settlement. You can live anywhere you want, do whatever you want. What does that look like to you? You’re young. You have decades of living left. What are you going to do with all that life, sweetheart? Or are you going to be content playing the poor little rich girl forever?” She sucks up her rum punch, her blue eyes sparkling in her wizened face.

If she’s trying to freak me out, it’s working. I have never lived alone, technically. I have never worried about money. I’ve never applied for credit or been to a big box store or gossiped with colleagues at the water cooler. My life has been far from perfect, but it has been privileged. What do I want to do? More to the point, what am I capable of?

“I’m scared, Granny,” I murmur, flicking open the pages of the notebook. “Scared of missing him so much I might die. Scared of building a new life without him. Of trying to figure out who I am and realizing I might be… nobody.”

“Bullcrap! You’ll always be somebody, Amber. You’re so much more than just someone’s wife or someone’s daughter—even someone’s grandchild. But it’s up to you to figure out what kind of someone you’re going to be. You need to be brave. Bold. You need to make a goddamn list.”

A few people glance over to see who is making the impassioned speech, and they’re probably surprised to see it’s a tiny silver-haired woman nearing ninety. I’m not surprised—Lucille has always been a force of nature. When I don’t reply immediately, she narrows her eyes at me. “You’re what? Forty years old?”

I grimace before I remember who I’m talking with, then prepare myself for the usual you’re-just-a-spring-chicken lecture. Instead, she simply nods. “I’m sure it does feel scary, starting over in the middle of your life. But you have to remember that it’s never too late to change. To grow. To find what makes you happy. I didn’t do it until I was seventy-three.”

I frown at her. What the hell happened to her sixteen years ago?

“That got you thinking, didn’t it, child? Well, when I was seventy-three, I met Vivienne at the farmers’ market.”

“Your friend Vivienne? The one who came to lunch today?” Vivienne is in her mid-sixties, with long white hair and the kind of fashion sense that reminds me of the aunties inPractical Magic. I can totally see her whipping up a round of midnight margaritas in the blender.

“Yes, she is my friend, Bam-Bam—but she’s also my lover. We’ve been a couple for all these years.”

I put my glass down before I drop it. Vivienne is herwhatnow? Did I hear that correctly? Did my Granny Lucille just damn well come out to me?

“Close your mouth, sunshine, you’ll catch flies.”

I clamp my lips shut but still gawp at her. She has a small smile on her face and looks ever-so-slightly smug. If she was aiming to shock me out of my self-pitying stupor, she’s achieved her goal. “What… Why didn’t you tell me?” I splutter.

“It was none of your business. Besides, to start with, I was feeling my way through it all. I was perfectly happy with your granddaddy, but I was a virgin when I married him, and I didn’t have much to compare it to. There were a few other men after he passed, of course. I’m not a saint, even if I do live in the Holy City. Truthfully, Bam-Bam, I could never figure out what all the fuss was about. Until Vivienne.ThenI figured it out. Anyway, I’m not telling you this to scandalize you, though that is fun—I just wanted to prove my own point. It’s never too late to find what makes you happy.”

“Huh.” I raise my hand to get the waiter’s attention. I’m going to need more wine. “And in your case, that’s other women?”

“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging. “I’ve only been with the one, and at my age I’m probably not about to go on a dating spree. But I’m happy, yes. More than ever. As you get older, you start to realize how short life is. You need to squeeze as much juice out of it as you can. Maybe add it to your list. The list of new things you should try.”

“Being a lesbian?”

“No, you horse’s ass—living life to the fullest. Although hey, why not give it a go?”

A big smile spreads across my face. I think it’s the first genuine smile I’ve managed since the night I told my husband I wanted a divorce. “I don’t think so, Granny,” I say, shaking my head. “I think I might like cock a little too much.”

She snorts so hard rum punch comes out of her nostrils, and I laugh out loud. I’ve managed to shock her, and it fills me with delight. She laughs along with me and wipes her face clean with a napkin.

“Oh Bam-Bam,” she says, her eyes glistening with amused tears. “Is it any wonder we get on so well? You’re as bad as I am.”

That, I decide, is very much a compliment. I look at the blank pages of the notebook in front of me. All those empty lines, waiting to be filled. All those lists waiting to be made. All that life, waiting to be lived.

I can do this, I tell myself. I can do this.

ChapterEleven

AMBER

Ican’t do this. I thought I could, but I was mistaken. Being back in New York is harder than I ever imagined.

I stayed in Charleston for two weeks, and everything felt so much simpler there. Elijah and I started to exchange messages about a week ago, and all our conversations are heartbreakingly polite. We’re both committed to staying calm and civil, and that isn’t something we’ve ever been good at.

We agreed that we didn’t want things to get nasty and decided that the only lawyer involved would be Drake. It’s a hell of a position to put him in, but he said he doesn’t mind, and he is at least someone we both trust. Nathan would be a different matter, of course—he’d have me out on the streets with my possessions in a shopping cart quick as a flash.

My pride screamed at me to simply tell him I don’t want a dime, but that isn’t sensible or even fair. I’ve contributed to this marriage, to Elijah’s life and social standing. Being Mrs. Elijah James is the reason I never built my own career. Pathetic as it might sound now, being Mrs. Elijah Jameswasmy career. And now things need to change. I’ve been using the notebook Granny gifted me to make those lists she suggested, and while I was doing that, I felt positive, like I could move forward. Now that I’m back, I’m not so sure.

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