In Twenty Years: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

again. “I just don’t understand.”
    Annie forked at her rice pilaf and wished this could all be over: Lindy here, Bea dead, the humiliation of facing Colin after how she’d behaved.
    “You know Bea,” Lindy said.
    But Catherine was still pissed at her from the wedding, so she rolled her eyes and said, “Explain it to me, Lindy. Explain Bea’s psychology to me, because I’m pretty sure she shouldn’t be dead.”
    “What? Who said she should be dead?”
    “You did.”
    “I didn’t say that. I said,  You know Bea. Like, she wasn’t exactly a Girl Scout.”
    “She wasn’t exactly a Girl Scout?” Catherine was clutching the tablecloth, and all their plates slid a tad askew. “What does that mean?”
    “Cathy.” Owen touched her arm.
    “She did things on her terms,” Colin interjected. “I’d like to think that whatever happened, it was on her terms too.”
    “Right,” Lindy said. “Jesus! That’s all I was saying.”
    “No,” Annie finally said. “That’s not what you were saying at all. You were blaming her, making it sound like she did something.”
    “You don’t have any idea what she did,” Lindy said, too loudly. “None of us do. Isn’t that why Catherine asked?”
    “She’s dead, Lindy! Shut up!” Catherine blurted out Annie’s thoughts exactly.
    Annie remembers that Lindy stood abruptly and threw down some cash. She had a plane to catch, a gig to play on the road, though it was a convenient excuse. Who was she opening for? Annie squints toward her kitchen window, trying to recall.
    The Goo Goo Dolls.
    Catherine said, “ Sit down ,Lindy, you can’t just run away. Not tonight.”
    And Lindy said, “I’m not sitting down; I’m not taking this shit. I don’t want to deal with this; I don’t need to deal with this.”
    Catherine snorted. “Well, everything is always about what you want. You’re all take, take, take. So you did, and it ruined everything.”
    Even Annie was shocked, but she couldn’t blame Catherine because she didn’t disagree. Also, they were so strung out, so wrung dry from the news of Bea’s death that no one was thinking straight. Like they were wearing their hearts outside their bodies, and every little pulse felt like a detonation.
    So Lindy sneered. “Oh God, Catherine, you and your perfect self-righteousness. Perfect, perfect, perfect. I don’t need this anymore! I don’t need you guys anymore. I’ve moved on. Too bad you can’t do the same.”
    Then she spun around and tromped away, leaving to go open for the Goo Goo Dolls, and when she left, so too did any chance for them to stitch up their wounds collectively, as a six-point star. A five-point star now. That made it all the worse. Lindy left, and whatever remained among them shattered.
    Annie rests the FedEx envelope on her immaculate marble counter and flattens her palms against it, inhaling and exhaling, trying to slow her breathing. The midtown law office on the return address is unfamiliar. Annie can’t think of anything that she and Lindy would share these days—no friends, no interests. There’s no reason why they’d each receive matching envelopes. Annie refuses to “like” Lindy’s fan page on Facebook or download even one of her songs. (She did buy one for Gus a few weeks ago because he was begging. But that was the exception. She makes all sorts of exceptions for the men in her life.)
    And yet, here Lindy is, polluting her tranquil kitchen, muddying her quiet afternoon while Gus is at day camp. All Annie wanted to do today was read a few cooking blogs, squeeze in a Pilates class, maybe do some online shopping. And now there’s this! Of course there’s this!
    Because Lindy never had any boundaries in the first place! Annie’s flattened palms curl into fists. Of course she would weasel her way into her serene afternoon. This is just so like Lindy!
    Before she can give it a second thought, Annie rides her crest of anger, shredding open the top of the FedEx envelope as if