Still Life Read Free

mom.”
    “You really think so? I didn’t have a very good example.”
    “You practically raised your sister,” Gail pointed out.
    “Yeah, and look how well that turned out.” Casey glanced back at the still-life painting over her shoulder and took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale the scent of the blush-pink peonies.
    “How is Drew anyway?” Janine asked, although the tone of her voice indicated she already knew the answer.
    “Haven’t heard from her in weeks. She doesn’t phone, doesn’t return my messages.”
    “Typical.”
    “She’ll call,” Gail said. This time no soft giggle accompanied her words.
    Janine signaled the waiter for the bill by wiggling her fingers in the air, as if she was already signing the check. “Sure you want to give up that perfect body?” she asked Casey as the young man brought the bill to the table. “It’ll never be the same, you know.”
    “That’s all right. It’s …”
    “… time to move on?” Janine quipped.
    “Your boobs will get bigger,” Gail said.
    “That’ll be nice,” Casey said as Janine divided the amount.
    “Fifty-five apiece, including tip,” Janine announced after several seconds. “Why don’t you give me the money and I’ll put it on my credit card to speed things up?”
    Casey knew Janine’s request had nothing to do with saving time and everything to do with writing off today’s lunch as a business expense. “So, what are you up to this weekend?” she asked, handing Janine the appropriate amount of cash.
    “I have a date with that banker I went out with last week.” Janine’s blue eyes were already growing opaque with boredom.
    “That’s nice,” Gail said. “Isn’t it?”
    “Not really. But he has tickets for Jersey Boys , and you know how hard it is to get tickets, so how could I refuse?”
    “Oh, you’ll love it,” Casey said. “It’s fabulous. I saw the original on Broadway a few years ago.”
    “Of course you did.” Janine smiled as she pushed herself off her chair and to her feet. “And this week you’ll be with your fabulous husband, making fabulous babies together. I’m sorry,” she said in the same breath. “I’m being a real bitch. For sure I’m PMS-ing.”
    “Where are you off to now?” Gail asked Casey as they retrieved their coats from the maître d’.
    “Think I’ll just stick around here. I was debating going for a run, but I don’t think I have enough time before my next appointment.” Casey checked her watch. It was a gold Cartier, a gift from her husband on their second anniversary last month.
    “Save your energy for tonight,” Janine advised now, leaning forward to kiss Casey on the cheek. “Come on, Gail, I’ll give you a ride back to work.”
    Casey watched her two friends walk down South Street arm in arm, thinking them an interesting study in contrasts: Janine tall and contained, Gail shorter and spilling out in all directions at once; Janine an expensive glass of champagne, Gail a mug of draft beer.
    Which made her—what? Casey wondered. Maybe she should try a more current hairstyle. Although when had long blond hair ever really gone out of fashion? And it suited the soft oval of her face, her fair complexion and delicate features. “Don’t even try to tell me you weren’t prom queen,” Janine had said shortly after they met, and Casey had laughed and kept silent. What could she say, after all? She had been prom queen. She’d also been captain of the debating and swim teams, and scored near perfect on her SATs, but people were always less interested in that than in how she looked and how much she was worth. “Someone just told me your old man is worth gazillions,” Janine had remarked on another occasion. Again Casey had remained silent. Yes, it was true her family was almost obscenely wealthy. It was also true that her father had been a notorious ladies’ man, her mother a self-absorbed alcoholic, and her younger sister a drug-fueled party girl on her way to becoming a