Page 79 of PS: I Hate You

Dom:So, I was checking.

Dom:I’m not curious in the slightest.

On my walk home from work I deviate into the nearby park where the Dom tree is, snap a picture, and send it to him. Then I send a version with arrows to emphasize the particularly looming nature of the branches.

Dom:That’s an extremely handsome tree.

At least once a week I initiate an exchange of nonsense text messages so I know that Dom has a small portion of his life where he’s not required to be serious or responsible.

All he needs to do is text me back. And he does, every time.

I wonder if he regrets demanding my phone number?

Too bad. I don’t stop.

—

In January, Pamela insists I accompany her to a conference in New York.

A massive gathering of businesspeople is not my idea of fun, but I don’t try to slip out of the responsibility for three reasons.

Reason one: I want to stay in Pamela’s good favor at all times.

Reason two: there’s another event in New York at the same time I want to try to attend.

Reason three: I will do anything to distract myself from the fact that next week will mark a year since Josh died.

Tula and Jeremy already told me they’re taking me to a spa for the day. Then in the evening, they plan to buy out the cheese section at the local grocery store, stock up on my favorite gin, and play some action-movie drinking game Tula swears will get me so drunk I’ll forget my own name.

I hope their distraction techniques work, but I’m finding even the lead-up to the anniversary hurts my entire body. Like my innards are getting dragged against a cheese grater.

So I agree to New York, no questions asked.

The first day, I attend the workshops Pamela can’t make and take copious notes for her. The second day, I end up manning The Redford Team’s booth with two women from the marketing department. They shop our services to the crowd of CEOs and CFOs while I make sure no one steals company swag without first listening to their spiel.

My coworkers are nice. The event is an introvert’s hell. But the conference leaves me no time to wallow, which is what I needed. And then there’s the other New York event.

The day after the conference ends, the UPenn swim team has an away meet at Columbia. The Perry twins are competing in NYC, and I’m determined to go.

I don’t inform Adam or Carter of my plan beforehand in case something goes wrong and I can’t show up. But the morning of the meet, all my obligations are complete and my flight isn’t until later in the day. I drive my rental to Columbia after wishing Pamela safe travels on her earlier departure.

After finding parking and locating the pool area, I make my way to the entrance. The chlorine smell in the humid air transports me back to the good days of that one summer.

The Perrys made it to a lot of Adam and Carter’s meets when they were younger, but there were times when it was just me, pressing up against the rope they suspended around the pool to keep crowds back. Both of them had let their floppy Perry hair grow long, so it was my job to stretch their swim caps over their heads.

They could have helped each other, but Adam insisted that I did it best. Carter didn’t argue, just held the bright blue head covering out to me.

I rub my sternum to sooth the ache of times gone.

My eyes alight on a helpful sign that proclaimsPoolwith an arrow pointing down the hall where a stream of people trickle through the doorway. I tug out my phone, flip the camera, then geta selfie with the sign. Navigating to my texts, I open the group chat I have with Adam and Carter.

Maddie:I think I’m lost

A few minutes go by without an answer, and I reason they’ve probably stored their phones while they get ready for the meet. Just as I decide to head in and grab a seat, my phone buzzes.

Adam:No way

Adam:NO FUCKING WAY!!!!!!!