HANNAH
Hannah sat with Maya and Renee at the table where they’d once all chugged cheap beer and played Truth or Dare until they’d gotten so drunk they ran down to the beach in the middle of the night—four girl-shadows dashing, so alive with the universe, claiming the breeze and every star and the shiny black Atlantic as they splashed into it. Whoop! Whoop! They thought they knew what their lives would be.
Now Blue was upstairs probably hating them all and Hannah was googling symptoms of Lemierre’s syndrome on her phone.
Sore throat: check
Headache: check
Fever: ?
She turned to Maya. “Feel my forehead. Does it feel hot?”
“It’s summer. So yes,” Maya said without checking. “Now tell Renee she’s staying for dinner.”
“Renee, you’re staying for dinner,” Hannah said. Maybe it wasn’t Lemierre’s. Maybe it was the measles. Vaccinations could lose their potency after time, couldn’t they? But that was stupid. She was fine. She’d been in therapy long enough to recognize that she probably wasn’t dying, that her fear was simply triggered by the stress of being away from Henry and the current tensions between her friends. Too bad that being aware of anxiety’s source never helped to quell it. Logic was happening in one part of the brain and fear in another and the two sections seemed to have no system in which to communicate with each other. It made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself.
“I’ll stay until Blue comes back down,” Renee said. “Because it’s nice to talk with you guys. But then I’m out. You wouldn’t eat dinner with someone who hated your guts either.”
“I would literally light myself on fire and toast a marshmallow off my own burning ass if it meant having lobster by the ocean with my lifelong best friends,” Maya countered.
“Wow, that’s specific,” Hannah said.
Maya passed them each an Oreo. “And anyway, Renee, Blue doesn’t hate you. Note that she didn’t even try to kill me when I suggested it.”
Renee fingered a small silver cross around her neck. Hannah didn’t recall Renee being religious when they were younger, though admittedly she changed interests and beliefs just about every week, so it was hard to keep track. It used to drive Blue and Maya crazy. They hated how Renee adopted the tastes and hobbies of whomever she was dating—their favorite music or style of clothes or sports teams. They thought Renee was subjugating herself, letting boys dictate who she was. Hannah always suspected Renee distrusted that who she was would be enough. Or maybe she was trying to build a self from the outside in. It was hard to be sure because Renee had always been a bit of a cipher.
“That’s a pretty necklace,” she said, reaching out to touch it. She often wished she could believe in God. It seemed easier. “I didn’t know you were religious.”
Renee shrugged. “I didn’t used to be.” She paused, searched Hannah’s face like she was peering around a shower curtain, making sure no one scary was lurking behind it.
Hannah smiled encouragingly and Renee continued.
“After my first marriage ended, I was walking down the street one night, crying, just lost. I didn’t know what to do or where to go or who to call. It was pouring rain and there was this church on the corner with this warm glow of light coming from the open door. I ducked inside to get out of the rain and there was this organ playing and people were singing, and you know that feeling you get when a group of people sing together—that sort of rush of love for humanity? Anyway, I took a seat at the back and everyone near me turned and smiled at me, and it was like... I don’t know... I felt this unconditional love there...like regardless of who I was or what I had done or how I had screwed up my life, all that mattered to them was that I was there. That was enough. And I just felt this sense of peace that I hadn’t had in so long.” She paused as if she’d revealed something she hadn’t meant to. Hannah caught her eyes and they exchanged a knowing look. “Anyway, it was incredible. I felt so...relieved. I don’t even know why. I guess because there was finally an answer. Someone had an answer to what I was supposed to do. I was baptized like six weeks later.”
“That’s lovely,” Hannah said. “I’m so glad you found it.” And she was glad the church had been there for Renee, that it had helped her. But also, she wanted to say, Why didn’t you call us? When you were lost and scared and didn’t know what to do? Why didn’t you call your best friends?
“Last time I walked into a place of worship, I was sure I’d burst into flames,” Maya said.
Renee laughed.
“But Blue goes to church... I think. You should talk to her about it. At dinner.”
“You’re relentless,” Renee said.
“You miss me though,” Maya said.
“I do. I miss all of you.” She turned to Hannah. “Tell me about you. What have you been up to?”
Hannah tried to think of what she’d been up to. Worry. Phobias. Isolation. Loneliness. “Not much,” she said cheerfully.
“Still working on the Great American Novel? You know, Darrin has a friend in publishing. I’m sure he could get him to take a look at your work.”
“Oh...ah...nothing that’s finished yet...” Heat rushed to Hannah’s cheeks, her shoulders hunched over her shame. She knew she should be writing. Everyone was always asking about it like they were taking her emotional temperature. But ever since that night, her mind had turned on her, created dark terrifying pieces that always ended in disaster, until finally she realized it was making things worse—the stories she was telling herself. At Dr. Maloney’s recommendation she’d tried journaling instead. But every time she stared at the empty page, she thought, There it is. My autobiography.
“I get it,” Renee said. “There aren’t enough hours in the day, as Darrin likes to say.”
Hannah could practically hear what Blue’s thought bubble would be if she were here: Darrin, Darrin, Darrin—puke. But everyone was like that when they were in love.
“You’ll write it eventually,” Renee said. “Hey, how’s Henry?”
Hannah brightened. No one ever asked about Henry. She understood it was too hard for her friends—that like all difficult things in life, it was easier to avoid the subject. But understanding why didn’t leave her any less alone with it. And now here was Renee with her warm receptive eyes, asking after him, treating him like he was still a person to be asked after. “Oh, he’s...” She caught Maya eyeing them. Hannah often got the feeling Maya had opinions about Henry’s condition that she was politely holding back. She had a good idea what those opinions were, which was why she let the subject be avoided. “He’s good. Fine. Thanks for asking.” She smiled painfully as her moment plunked and sank.