Free The Life List by Lori Nelson Spielman Page B

and find you a dog.”
    “Forget it. Dogs smell bad. They mess up the house.” I sip my coffee. “At least that’s Andrew’s take.”
    “What’s Andrew got to do with it?” She breaks off a corner of her scone. “Brett, I’m sorry, but do you really think Andrew’s part of your life plan? I mean, your mother basically told you he’s history. Are you willing to ignore her last wish?”
    Megan has found my Achilles’ heel. I park my elbows on the table and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ve got to tell Andrewabout this damn list. But he’ll go ballistic. He wants to buy a plane someday, not a horse! Kids aren’t part of his plan. He made that perfectly clear early on.”
    “And that was okay with you?”
    I look out the window, my mind stretching back to another time, a time when I was bold and fearless, and certain my dreams really would come true. But then it happened, as it must, and I learned that the world didn’t revolve around me.
    “I convinced myself it was okay. Things were different back then. We traveled a lot … he’d join me on business trips. Our lives were so full it was hard to imagine having a child.”
    “And now?”
    She’s asking for the updated version of my life. The version where I eat alone most nights in front of the television and the last trip we took was to his sister’s wedding in Boston two years ago. “I’ve just lost my mother and my job. I can’t deal with more loss. Not yet.”
    She dabs her mouth with the napkin, and I notice her eyelashes are spiked with tears. I grab her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you.”
    Her face crumples. “I can’t go on like this.”
    Oh. She’s not crying for me. She’s crying for herself. But I’m a fine one to talk. I’ve been so self-absorbed lately I make Megan look like a guidance counselor. I take her hand.
    “More text messages on Jimmy’s phone?”
    “Worse. They were having sex in our bed when I got home yesterday. Our goddamn bed! Thank God I was able to get the hell out before they saw me.”
    “That jackass! Why would he bring her home, of all places? He knows you don’t keep a regular schedule.”
    “He wants me to catch him. He doesn’t have the balls to break it off, so he’s hoping I will.” She tugs her left wrist and heaves a sigh. “It’s these damn arms. I’m deformed.”
    “That’s ridiculous. You’re beautiful and you need to dump his ass.”
    “I can’t. What would I do for money?”
    “You’d start selling houses.”
    She waves me off. “Phssh. I’m telling you, Brett, I must have been royalty in my past life, because I just can’t get used to this idea of working for a living.”
    “Well, you can’t just sit there and take it. Maybe if you confront him—”
    “No!” she says, nearly shouting. “I can’t confront him until I have another option.”
    At first I don’t understand, but then it dawns on me. Megan wants a replacement before she gives up the original. She’s like a terrified child, hoping to find a new family to take her in before she becomes an orphan.
    “You don’t need someone to take care of you. You’re a smart woman. You can make it on your own.” I hear my own words, and wonder if I’m speaking to Megan now, or to myself. I soften my tone. “I know it’s hard, Meggie, but you can do it.”
    “Not happening.”
    I sigh. “Then you need to put yourself out there. Maybe go online to one of those match sites.”
    She rolls her eyes and pulls a tube of lip gloss from her purple bag. “Seeking gorgeous millionaire. Must like short arms.”
    “I’m serious, Megan, you’ll have somebody new in no time. Someone much better.” A thought occurs to me and I snap my fingers. “Hey, what about Brad?”
    “Your mom’s attorney?”
    “Yeah. He’s really nice. And cute, too, don’t you think?”
    She dabs her lips with gloss. “Uh-huh. There’s just one teensy problem.”
    My nostrils flare. “What? He’s not rich