Read Online Aftermirth by Hillary Jordan - Free Book Online Page A

Kirk?”
    â€œKirk.”
    â€œ Ennhhh. Wrong answer. Opera or ballet?”
    â€œBaseball,” I say. “Mets or Yankees?
    â€œYankees. Thai or Indian?”
    â€œMexican,” I say.
    â€œDing ding ding!”
    We’re about halfway to New York, and Elena’s driving. I’m just a passenger, zipping along toward God knows what fate—but then, so are you. You may think you know what’s going to happen in my story or your own, but the truth is you don’t have a clue. You’re right here with me, off the map. Here, for all you know, there be dragons.
    â€œParis or Rome?” I ask.
    â€œHaven’t been to either.”
    â€œSo which one would you like to see first?”
    Elena shoots me a look. I don’t know her well enough yet to read it, though I know her a whole lot better after last night. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m skipping the love scene, or should I say scenes. Suffice it to say the first one was a tearjerker, and the three that followed would have had to be severely edited to make NC-17.
    â€œWhat did you say to George on the porch?” she asks, surprising me. I didn’t think she’d been paying attention to us.
    â€œThat would be the veraaandah. And you haven’t answered my question.”
    â€œYou first.”
    I shrug, smile. “I just wished him luck, is all.”
    Elena isn’t fooled, but she lets it go for now. “Rome,” she says.
    EXT. GEORGE’S VERANDAH - DAY
    Elena and CATHERINE, 45, are hugging and saying tearful good-byes in Spanish. Michael and GEORGE, 50ish, are standing off to one side.
    GEORGE
    Thank you for coming, Michael.
    MICHAEL
    You can’t imagine how much I didn’t want to, but I’m glad I did.
    They shake hands. Michael considers George, wrestling with something, and comes to a decision.
    MICHAEL (CONT’D)
    There’s something I want to say to you, George, and you’re not going to believe me and you might even be pissed at me for saying it. But you need to hear it and I need to say it, so here goes. You don’t know that Shane was the love of your life.
    George looks affronted and starts to speak, but Michael plows ahead.
    MICHAEL (CONT’D)
    You can’t know that he was the love of your life, and do you know why? Because guess what, you aren’t dead yet. You may feel dead right now, and believe me I’ve been there, but the fact is, until you’re lying under a tombstone of your own you can’t be sure about anything. You could prick your finger on one of your roses tomorrow, and as you’re climbing the stairs to get a Band-Aid you trip over one of the pugs and tumble to your death. Or you could meet a man in the checkout line at the grocery store--hell, you could meet a woman even, and fall madly in love with her and end up with six kids and twenty grandkids.
    Michael looks over at Elena, then back at George.
    MICHAEL (CONT’D)
    You just don’t know, George. That’s the thing. None of us does.
    He reaches out and rests his hand for a moment on George’s shoulder, then lets it fall.
    INT. MICHAEL’S CAR - DAY
    Elena and Michael driving down the highway with the top down. She’s behind the wheel, and she’s got her head thrown back, LAUGHING at something he just said. She stops, and he cocks his head.
    MICHAEL
    Do you hear that?
    ELENA
    What?
    Faintly at first, and then gradually louder, we hear a woman’s LAUGH: artless, weightless, utterly abandoned. A bright, rippling arpeggio from the most joyful aria ever sung. Michael smiles.
    MICHAEL
    Nothing.
    The LAUGHTER continues as the car heads off into the unknown.
    FADE OUT.

Published by
    Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill
    Post Office Box 2225
    Chapel Hill, North Carolina 27515-2225
    a division of
    Workman Publishing
    225 Varick Street
    New York, New York 10014
    Â© 2012 by Hillary Jordan.
    All rights reserved.
    This is a work of fiction. While, as in all