earlier?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t want to go. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with, but can’t you just come and sit there? You do need to eat at least, right?”
Jackie twisted the phone cord around her fingers. “Listen,” she replied, “just go. You’ll have a better time without me, anyway.”
“But I want you to go with me.”
For a brief moment, Jackie considered it. The parties weren’t terrible. Maybe it would do her good to get out and have a couple of drinks. The food was usually decent and the conversation was interesting, even if the young golden ones tended to forget that there were a few people in attendance who did not breathe the specialized, government-issue air of City Hall. And really, it was a small victory that Laura wanted to take her at all. For her first year in City Hall, she’d been closeted at work, even among the people her age. Jackie had resented being hidden and lied about, but after she’d won this battle—after Laura had told her peers about Jackie (but not her boss), after she’d started taking Jackie to parties and barbecues (but not official functions)—Jackie realized she wasn’t missing much. Now, she was in the strange position of not wanting to spend time with people she’d once been furious about not being able to meet.
“I really just want to stay home. I promise I’ll go to the next thing.”
Laura was silent for a moment. “Fine,” she said. And something in her voice frightened Jackie—not because it was angry, but because it wasn’t. She wasn’t fighting anymore. She’d surrendered. “Fine. You’re right. I’m sorry. You’ve had a hard two weeks. Why don’t you just come over? I’ll go out and rent a couple of movies.”
Jackie put her hand on her forehead and squeezed. “Laura, just because I don’t want to go to the party doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t go.”
“Forget it, Jackie. It’s too late. Just come to my place.”
Jackie opened her mouth, then closed it again, biting down on her reply. She didn’t want this to go any further—not now, not today. Their fights had been like quicksand lately—if they stepped down in the wrong place, they’d be swallowed up fast, neither of them able to pull herself out, or to reach back and pull out the other. “OK,” she said finally. “I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”
Jackie took a long shower, fingering the caulk between the square crimson tiles, wondering how she was supposed to deal with Laura. Images of the last ten days kept popping up in her mind. The thin paper of the will. The heavy urn in its flowing furoshiki . The black strangers in the church. And she knew she would share none of this with Laura. She felt as guilty and overwhelmed—and as committed to silence—as if she were washing off the evidence of a clandestine liaison that she not only wouldn’t admit to, but planned to repeat. She wasn’t sure where this secrecy came from—she used to tell Laura everything. And now, as much as she tried to convince herself that she hid things from Laura to keep their relationship pure, to have Laura as an untouched sanctuary from all the things that ailed her, she knew she was kidding herself.
The house where Laura lived was only half a mile away. As Jackie left her apartment and stepped onto the sidewalk, she saw that the streets were plugged with cars, full of people who were heading toward the restaurants and boutiques up on Melrose and down on Beverly. Jackie took a detour to a convenience store to buy some Ben & Jerry’s—her usual peace offering—and as she walked the ice cream softened, the carton sweating through its paper bag. Jackie loved the Fairfax district and was always amused by it. Their neighborhood was home to many young, hip people trying to break into acting or music, and to elderly Jews who’d been living there for decades. Within walking distance were two large synagogues, several Jewish retirement homes, half a dozen Jewish private