Read Online Lost by Joy Fielding - Free Book Online Page B

Anyway,” Cindy continued, glancing toward the phone in her purse, “my settlement ensured I didn’t have to worry about finding a job, which was good because I only had a high school education, having eloped when I was eighteen. Still with me?”
    “Hanging onto every word.”
    “After I got married, I worked at Eaton’s for a couple of years, selling towels and bedding and exciting stuff like that, helping put my ex through law school, pretty standard stuff, and then I got pregnant and I quit work to stay home with Julia, and then two years later, Heather came along, something for which Julia never quite forgave me.” Cindy strained to keep her voice light. “Witness her decision to go live with her father.”
    “But you saw her, didn’t you? Weekends? Holidays?”
    “She was a teenager. I saw her whenever she could fit me into her busy schedule. Which wasn’t too often.” Cindy felt her stomach cramp at the memory.
    “That must have been very difficult for you.”
    “It was awful. I felt as if someone had ripped my guts out. I cried every day. Couldn’t sleep, wondering what I’d done wrong. Sometimes I could barely get out of bed. I honestly thought I’d lose my mind. That’s when Meg, my friend, offered me a job working at her little boutique. At first I said no, but eventually I decided I had to do something. And it’s been great. I work three afternoons a week; I take off whenever I feel like it. And to top it off, my daughter’s come back.” Again Cindy glanced toward her purse.
    “Do you keep her in there?” Neil asked.
    Cindy smiled. “Sorry. It’s just that she was supposed to call. Anyway, sorry about unloading on you like that. Can we do us both a favor and never mention my ex-husband or my divorce again?”
    “I’ll drink to that.” They clicked glasses.
    “Your turn.” Cindy leaned back in her chair, sipped on her wine. “Family history in fifty words or less.”
    He laughed. “Well, I was married.”
    “For how long?”
    “Fifteen years.”
    “And you’ve been divorced for how long?”
    “I’m not divorced.”
    “Oh?”
    “My wife died four years ago.”
    “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
    “She woke up one morning, said she wasn’t feelingquite right, and six weeks later, she was dead. Ovarian cancer.”
    “How awful. Trish didn’t tell me.…”
    “I doubt she has any idea. I’ve only known her a short time, and all she asked me was whether I was married, and if I’d be interested in going out with her friend.”
    Cindy shook her head. “And you, poor man, said yes.”
    “I said yes.”
    “Do you have children?”
    “A son. Max. He’s seventeen. Great kid.”
    Cindy tried picturing Julia at seventeen, but the years between fourteen and twenty-one had pretty much melted together in Cindy’s mind, like chocolates left too long in the sun. All those years lost. Years she could never get back.
    The waiter was suddenly standing beside them. “Endive and pear salad for the lady,” he announced, as if she might have forgotten. “Calamari for the gentleman.” He put the dishes on the table. “Enjoy.”
    “Thank you.” Cindy lifted her fork, stabbing it into her salad as she stole another glance at the phone in her purse.
Hi, Mom. Sorry about not calling earlier, but I’ve had the most incredible day
. But Cindy’s phone remained stubbornly silent, and Julia remained, as ever, tantalizingly out of reach.

SIX
    T HE phone rang at just after 2 A.M. , cutting through Cindy’s sleep like a dull blade. She flung her arm toward the sound, knocking the back of her hand against the night table beside her bed, and crying out in pain as she groped for the receiver. “Hello?” she said, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice.
    “I understand you’ve lost your daughter,” the caller said.
    Instantly Cindy was wide awake, her body rigid, her feet on the floor, poised to run. “Who is this?”
    “It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is, I found