The Invisibles Read Free Page B

her head. She had been carrying the hope of this—or something exactly like this—around like a stone in her pocket, a toothache that never stopped throbbing, a constant, steady pulse. The stone had gotten smaller, the toothache less painful, but the pulse was still there. It was always there.
    And yet . . .
    â€œNora?”
    â€œGod, Ozzie. I don’t know.”
    â€œYou don’t know what?”
    â€œAre you going to see her?”
    â€œWell, of course I’m going to see her.”
    â€œWhat about Monica?”
    â€œMonica’s in,” Ozzie answered. “I called her just before I called you. She already booked her flight, and she’s meeting me at O’Hare tomorrow afternoon, which is what I was hoping you would do. Then we could all drive to Grace’s house. Together. Like she asked.”
    â€œAnd . . .” Nora walked over to the window and pressed her palm flat against the cold glass. “And . . . do what?”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘do what?’” Ozzie sounded indignant. “I don’t think Grace is looking for us to take her to the mall or anything here, Nora. She just wants us to be there. For . . . support.” A faint clicking sound came over the phone, and Nora realized that Ozzie was biting her nails. Ozzie had bitten her nails back in high school, so badly sometimes that she drew blood and had to wear Band-Aids over the raw skin. “Don’t you want to be there for her?” Ozzie’s question hung in the air.
    â€œWell, yeah.” Nora’s voice wavered. “I mean, of course I do.But I don’t think you can blame me for being hesitant about seeing people I haven’t seen in almost fifteen years.”
    â€œ People? ” Ozzie repeated. “I know it’s been a while, Nora, but we’re not just people. It’s us! We were the best friends of your life!”
    â€œWere.” Nora repeated Ozzie’s word gently. “We were best friends, Ozzie. And then nothing. Not a card, a letter. Not even a phone call. For . . .” Her voice drifted off. It had been a long time, but she wanted to say forever. That was what it felt like. Forever and then some.
    A small child’s voice wailed in the background. “Mommy! Olivia dumped the flour on the floor!”
    Ozzie muted the mouthpiece again with her hand. “Two more minutes!” she bellowed. “Mommy’s busy right now!”
    There was a short silence. And then, “I . . .” Ozzie’s voice was already heavy with apology. Quieter too, as if letting Nora in on a secret. “Shit, you know how we all left things, Nora. After that night. And I know I was probably the most vocal about just forgetting all of it and moving ahead. I know I was. I said those exact words, didn’t I? To all of us?”
    Nora didn’t say anything, afraid that Ozzie would stop talking.
    â€œI did,” Ozzie said, answering her own question. “And you know, back then, I really thought that was what we should do. I mean, we were seventeen years old! None of us knew what the hell to do after it was all over. At least I didn’t. Shit, the only thing going through my stupid head was how fast we were going to get the hell out of there, and what we’d need to do to forget it.”
    Nora could hear herself breathing through the line, a desperate sound, muffled like a trapped animal. She wanted to scream,could feel it moving like a living thing from the depths of her belly. “And have you?” she asked instead. “Forgotten, I mean?’
    â€œMostly.” The word entered Nora’s ear like a bullet. “What about you? Do you ever think about it anymore?” Ozzie’s voice was hoarse, barely audible. “Or are you okay with things now?”
    Nora removed her hand from the window glass. A large, damp stain remained, the outline of something that looked as though it might still be breathing.