Free Bliss by Fiona Zedde Page A

cleared his throat. "How about you?"
    "I've been great up until recently."
    "Which is why you called, right?"
    Her mouth twisted into a crooked smile. He always knew
how to cut to the heart of things. She took a breath. "I called
to apologize. I didn't do well by you a month ago. You didn't
deserve to be treated like that."
    "Is that all?" He hesitated. "Are you all right?"
    She imagined him leaning against his kitchen counter like
she'd seen him do a hundred times, his bare ankles crossed as
he watched the river ripple and flash beyond the window.
    "Yes. I'm fine. I just wanted to call now that my head isn't
so far up her ass anymore."
    "What did she do to you, besides the usual, that is?"
    Very funny. "Nothing that I shouldn't have seen coming."
As Sinclair spoke she realized that she was reaching out to
him in friendship, reaching out for the type of relationship that she'd always imagined with him, one not based on sex
but on all the things they had in common. But as she silently
asked for that very thing, she knew that she could never have
it. Not with him.

    "She left you for a man?" Yuen asked.
    "No. She just left."
    There was a hard, pointed silence, an "I told you so" without words.
    "Anyway, that was the main reason that I called, so I'm
going to go now."
    "You can come over if you want. I'm not doing anything
tonight."
    "That's all right, I have some work that I need to catch up
on. I'll talk to you later."
    "Sure. Just call me if you need anything."
    Sinclair made some more goodbye noises before hanging
up the phone. Well, that was a disappointment. Not that she
knew exactly why she had called him in the first place.
Absolution from her stupidity? She made a rude noise.
    With nothing better to do she began to look through the
pile of mail she'd just picked up from the mailbox. Under the
usual pile of junk mail and bills, she unearthed a square envelope with a Jamaica return address. She smiled. It was
from her father. Was it her birthday already? She checked the
date on her watch. April 8. No, he was just early this year. By
three weeks. Sinclair tossed the bills and junk mail in their
basket in the kitchen to be sorted out later and sat down to
read her birthday card.
    Happy 33rd, it said. Come down and celebrate your birthday with us. There's always a place for you here. She put
away the letter he'd enclosed in the card to read later and
leafed through the photographs. Her father looked thin but
happy with his very young wife and their four-year-old boy,
Xavier.
    They posed on an oversized beach blanket. Around them,
coconut trees pregnant with fruit waved in the island breeze. Xavier stared into the camera with wide, gorgeous eyes. His
smile was blinding.

    Sinclair looked out at the gray fog beyond her window.
Although they hadn't seen each other for some twenty years,
her father had always been there for her, sending birthday
cards, short letters, the occasional package with current
photographs of him and his new family. In turn, Sinclair remembered his birthday and wedding anniversary, sending appropriate cards, money, and gifts when her electronic calendar
reminded her to. She'd never sent any pictures of her own.
    Every birthday he invited her down to Jamaica to stay
with him and his family. Every year she refused. Work was
always her handy excuse. Sinclair looked around her. The
apartment, a product of her tireless work, was beautiful but
cold, especially without her grandmother to share it with.
Once a week a cleaning woman came by and did something
to it. There was never enough of a life being lived in the
apartment to get it dirty. With Regina's betrayal so fresh, she
couldn't help but feel that there was nothing here for her. Not
really. If now wasn't the perfect time to escape....
    At the bottom of the card, as always, was her father's
phone number. Before she could change her mind, she called
it. The phone rang four times before the machine picked up.
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