Page 58 of The Pink House

“I can’t believe you’re a surgical tech.” Hannah’s breath came in short puffs as the incline adjusted to nine. “You refused to do a frog dissection in biology.”

“That was on principle.” Lydia’s chin inched up. “Not because I was squeamish.”

“Do you like your job?”

“I do.” Lydia slowed her movements. “The surgery center is totally fine with me working part-time. Twenty hours a week is all I can handle with three kids under six. Tim is a big help, but I don’t want my kids in daycare more than they’re with me.”

“Until we connected on social media, I didn’t realize you had three.” That showed just how out of touch they’d been.

“The twins are five. Dylan just turned three.” Something that looked a whole lot like pity filled Lydia’s eyes. “You and Brian weren’t blessed.”

Hannah pressed her lips together and reined in her irritation. “We were waiting to start a family until our careers were firmly on track.”

“You were married a long time.”

“The month after college graduation.”

Lydia’s gaze turned speculative. “I can’t imagine being married to someone all those years and not wanting to start a family.”

What did she say to that? Did she tell Lydia that many, if not most, of the couple friends she and Brian socialized with in Greensboro had had similar plans? And that some of them hadn’t been sure they wanted kids at all, and that was okay, too?

Directing the conversation back to Lydia seemed the best course of action. “How long have you and Tim been married?”

“Eight years.”

Hannah smiled. “Tell me about your children.”

Just like that, they were off to the races. During the next half hour, Hannah heard about how smart the twins were and about Lydia’s efforts to potty train Dylan.

Would another woman with children that age find the subject fascinating? As it was, Hannah found it difficult to come up with appropriate questions. She settled for offering encouraging smiles and nodding while perspiration trickled down her temples.

“Tim has a lot of single friends.” Lydia’s feet were barely moving now. “We could set you up?”

The abrupt change in topic meant one of two things.

Either Lydia was the master of the quick subject change, or when Lydia had launched into how she used M&M’s to reward going poopy in the potty, Hannah had spaced out.

“Thank you, but no. I’m not interested in dating right now.” Hannah waved a dismissive hand, softening the comment with a smile.

“Brian’s been gone over a year.” Surprise flickered across Lydia’s face. “That’s long enough to grieve. It’s time to get on with your life.”

It was a variation of what her stepmother had said to her shortly before she and Hannah’s dad had left for Florida. Hannah hadn’t appreciated the input from Sandie, and she didn’t appreciate the push from Lydia now.

“I am getting on with my life.” Hannah considered redirecting the conversation one more time, but didn’t think she could bear any more toilet-training talk.

Besides, the workout she’d programmed had ended, and she was ready for this reunion to end. She stepped off the machine.

“Well, this has been…” Hannah searched for the right word. Finding none, she settled for, “Nice.”

Lydia scrambled off her elliptical.

Reaching over, Hannah put a hand on her arm. “Good luck with the potty training.”

“He’ll get it one of these days.” Lydia kept her voice offhand. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

The fact that Lydia kept plans for any future meetings equally vague told Hannah that she’d also decided that whatever connection they’d shared all those years ago no longer existed.

Like the friends Hannah had left back at Mingus—the women with whom she’d eaten lunch and socialized—they were no longer tied together by something in common, so the connection had dissolved.

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