Free The Invisibles by Cecilia Galante Page B

all people had to have known we would have tried to help. I would have dropped everything. Honest to God, I would’ve. In a heartbeat. Any of us would have.”
    â€œMaybe it wouldn’t have mattered,” Nora said.
    Monica’s fingers stopped moving over the bracelets. “Of course it would have mattered.” Nora could hear the hurt in her voice. “It would have mattered a lot.”
    â€œMaybe.” Nora looked away, feeling as though she’d just been reprimanded.
    â€œOr maybe you’re right,” Monica said slowly. She reached down and grabbed Nora’s hand. “What do I know anymore?”
    O zzie was already at the baggage claim, hauling an enormous duffel bag off the conveyor belt as Nora and Monica approached. She was in blue jeans and hiking boots and an oversize sweat shirt with the words MY MOM ROCKS! printed on the front. A thin ponytail stuck out of the back of a Red Sox baseball cap, swinging from side to side like a tail. She’d put on some weight around her midsection, and her face looked fuller too, but there was no mistaking those mile-long legs, the insouciant swing in her hips as she moved.
    â€œOzzie!” Monica screamed and darted ahead, arms out straight in front of her. “Ozzie! Ozzie!”
    Ozzie looked up, dropped her duffel bag on the floor, and caught Monica around the waist. She spun her around once and then again. Monica shrieked. Her legs flew out like a propeller, and one of her shoes went spinning across the room. Several people still waiting for their bags looked over and grinned.
    â€œWhere’d you come from?” Monica said breathlessly as Ozzieput her down. “I thought your flight wasn’t getting in until ten twenty!”
    â€œWho knows?” Ozzie said. “The flight gods were with us. Or maybe we just got a good tailwind.” She held Monica at arm’s length, her eyes roving up and down the length of her. “Damn, you look good. Holy shit, Monica. What the hell did you do ?”
    Nora had caught up to them now and stood next to Ozzie’s other arm, waiting.
    Monica giggled. “You mean what didn’t I do?”
    Ozzie noticed Nora then and put her arm around her, enclosing the three of them in a wide hug. “Norster,” she said, pulling her close. “Hi, you.”
    Somewhere nearby, a faint ringing sounded.
    â€œOh, my phone!” Monica said, pulling away. “I’m sorry, hold on.” She dug inside her purse, and pulled out a white iPhone with gold interlocking C s on the back cover. “I have to take this,” she said, stepping off to one side and putting the phone to her ear. “One minute, okay?”
    Nora had not moved. Ozzie’s sweat shirt smelled like a kitchen—macaroni and cheese, beef vegetable soup, maybe even a little bit of baby vomit—and she lingered, as if trying to place it.
    â€œI’m so glad you’re here,” Ozzie said, kissing Nora hard on top of her head. “I can’t even tell you how glad I am that you decided to come.”
    Nora ducked her head, moving in an inch or so more. Ozzie’s arm was strong around her, the way it used to be, the way she wished in that moment it had remained—and would always remain—for the rest of her life.
    â€œHow are you, really?” Ozzie stepped back, giving Nora a once-over.
    Nora pulled on her earlobe, feeling her face flush. “I’m good,” she said.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œOkay.” Ozzie grinned, chucking her under the chin. “You look good.”
    â€œSo do you.”
    â€œI got fat,” Ozzie said. “My husband calls me Chubbers.”
    â€œHe does?”
    â€œSometimes.” She laughed. “I’ve probably put on thirty pounds since high school.”
    â€œIt doesn’t show.”
    â€œIt’s all under here.” Ozzie slapped the front of her sweat shirt. “Thank God I still