Sunset In Central Park

“I feel responsible.”

“Why? None of it is your fault.”

Wasn’t it? Frankie felt the familiar gnawing of guilt in the pit of her stomach. The truth was she felt responsible and always had.

When it had first happened she’d discovered that guilt could be so big it could swallow a person whole. She’d been paralyzed by indecision, not knowing what to do for the best. The only thing she’d been sure of was that she didn’t want to inflict her problems on anyone else.

Gradually, the guilt had faded, like a terrible wound that eventually heals but never quite goes away.

She went weeks, months even, when she never thought about it. And when she did think about it, usually in the dark hours of the night, she kept it to herself.

It wasn’t something she ever intended to share. Not even with her closest friends. The time for that was long past.

“Can you imagine if Matt had overheard that? I’d definitely have to move to Seattle. And I hate the way she calls us girls as if we’re all eight years old. I don’t think a woman of fifty-three should call herself a girl. There’s something undignified about it. Or delusional. I’m not sure which.” Struggling with emotion, she dived back into the store and rubbed her hand over her cheek. Her eyes and throat burned. “I can’t bear it. Another rich guy the same age as me. And why don’t these men ever say no?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not your problem.” Paige rubbed her arm gently, her voice warm with sympathy. “I’m sorry we bumped into her.”

“So am I. All she ever talks about is sex. She loves embarrassing me.”

“I don’t think she’s thinking about you at all. She’s thinking about herself.”

“Let’s change the subject. Talk about something. Anything.” Frankie focused on the bright blooms. Flowers always calmed her. Nature was never embarrassing. “Talk about you. Please. Or work. Work is good. As long as it’s not weddings.”

“Did I tell you we won that piece of business for New York fashion week? They emailed me late last night.”

“That’s a real coup. The event is in September?” Frankie made a huge effort to push her mother out of her head. Use it or lose it, she’d said.

Frankie had lost it. She’d definitely lost it.

“Yes. It will be our biggest event yet, so that’s a piece of good news.”

“That is good news.” Her heart was beginning to slow. The awful burning humiliation receded, but still the words remained. Use it or lose it. The phrase was buried in her head like a tick burrowed into an animal’s fur. What was the rule when you’d never really had it? How could you use something you didn’t know what to do with? Other women her age were generally sexually experienced. Frankie’s experience boiled down to a few awkward embarrassing encounters from which she’d been relieved to walk away. And the detail of those was something else she’d never shared with anyone. “How are things with Jake?”

“Good. He’s pressing me to move in with him.”

“Oh.” The four of them had lived together in the brownstone for a long time. Frankie realized she hadn’t given any thought to that changing. “How do you feel about that?”

“Mixed feelings. I love being with Jake and his apartment is spectacular, but I love Brooklyn, too.” Paige hesitated. “And I’m worried about Eva.”

“Me, too. She was pretty emotional at that bridal shower the other day. But she’s doing better than she was at Christmas.”

“She puts on a brave face, but she misses her grandmother horribly. She pushes through the day, but she still cries at night sometimes. I hear her.” Paige stood back to allow someone carrying a large plant to pass them. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to have no family at all. Eva told me the other night that she feels like a boat that slipped its moorings. She’s bobbing in the sea alone.”

Frankie felt a flash of guilt. “Now I feel terrible for complaining about my mother.”

“Don’t. Your mother makes everything worse, not better.”

“But at least I’m connected to someone. What do we do about Eva?”

“I wish she’d meet someone. And before you frown, I know relationships aren’t everything, but I think that’s what she needs. She needs to find someone who appreciates how special she is. She needs a family of her own.”

“I wouldn’t want her to meet anyone right now. She’s vulnerable. What happens when it all goes wrong? She couldn’t take the heartache.” The thought of Eva hurt made her own chest ache. “She’s so trusting.”

“Not all relationships end in heartache, Frankie.”

“Plenty do, and it would break Eva. What if she falls in love and the guy turns out to be a lying cheating piece of—” Anger rushed through her. “I’d kill him.”

“He could turn out to be decent, honest and the best thing that happened to her.”

“In which case I might not kill him. But I’ve never in my life met a guy that would be good enough for Eva.” She hesitated. “Except maybe Matt.”

“Matt? My brother Matt?”

“Why not? They’re great friends. They’re always laughing and teasing each other.” Maybe that was the answer. If Matt were with Eva, she’d stop thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking.

“They’re friends but there’s no chemistry between them.”

“He’s smoking hot and she’s beyond gorgeous. What more do you want?”

“You think my brother is smoking hot?” Paige looked at her curiously and Frankie wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

“I have eyes, don’t I? All I’m saying is that I think those two would be good together and if it was Matt with Eva then I wouldn’t have to kill him. I know he’d be good to her.”

Paige’s expression turned from curious to thoughtful. “They’d kill each other. She’d make him watch romantic movies and he’d turn to drink. No, I’d pick someone different for him. And anyway, Eva would never tolerate Claws, and Matt wouldn’t part with the cat so that’s their first major argument right there. She’ll find someone and, in the meantime, she has us. Thank goodness for friendship.”

Frankie didn’t disagree. Without her friends she never would have survived the difficult parts of her life. “I’ll stay with Eva the nights you’re at Jake’s.”

“You’d do that?”

“I don’t want her to be on her own and miserable.”

“That’s good of you, but there’s a flaw in that plan.”

“Which is?”

“She’d know you were only doing it for her.”

“Isn’t that what friendship is? Doing something for someone you care about?”

“Yes, but she’d be mortified if she knew I’d heard her crying and even more mortified if she knew I’d told you. She thinks she should be over losing her grandmother by now.”

“That’s crap. You don’t ever get over something like that. The best you can hope for is to learn to live alongside it.”

“I know. Let’s see how we go. In the meantime, I’ll carry on doing what I’m doing, dividing the week up. Maybe you can find reasons to look in on her the nights I’m not there. You don’t need to stay. So what else do you need to buy here?” Paige paused by another display. “Those pale pink roses are gorgeous.”

“No pastels. I want strong colors. Vibrant. Energetic. Electric. Futuristic. A fusion of color and scents.” She dug the list she’d made out of her bag and scanned it, anxious to do something that might stop her thinking about her mother.

They were surrounded by color. Pinks, purples, blues and yellows. Hydrangeas in more colors than she’d thought possible.