Page 61 of Little Secrets
You alive?
There are a hundred ways Marin could answer, because today the question is so loaded. She and Sal slept together, and at some point, they’ll have to talk about it. Sal knows she went to Whistler with Derek, and he’s probably wondering what it all means for them. And by them, not Marin and Derek. Marin andSal.
For now, though, she takes the easy way out. She responds the way a younger person would, without words. She simply sends back an emoji.
A heart.
The people from grief group use text to communicate with each other in between meetings, assuming there’s even a need. Group works best when it remains compartmentalized. Feelings are poured out only within the safe confines of Frances’s donut shop, and left there to evaporate when they return back to regular life. Nobody from group goes out for cocktails afterward, nobody grabs dinner, nobody sends an email a couple of weeks later “just to check in.”
But now Simon from group is calling. Not texting. Calling. Marin didn’t hear the phone ring at first because the faucet for the bathtub is running at full force, but she sees his name light up the screen when she goes to grab a towel.
She stares at her phone, contemplating whether or not to answer. Whatever it is Simon wants to talk about, it can’t be good, and she isn’tsure she’s up for it. For the first time in a long time, Marin feels… normal.Even. And she wants this feeling to last, at least for today.
But then she remembers. Simon’s child ismissing. There are a handful of people in the world he can talk to about it, and Marin is one of them. She reaches for the phone, and as she pads back into the bedroom, she hits the green icon on the screen to answer the call.
“Marin, thank god you picked up,” Simon says. “I tried you a few minutes ago but you didn’t answer.”
His voice is different. He doesn’t sound sad, he doesn’t sound depressed, he sounds… wound up. Almost frantic.
“Simon, hi. What’s going on?” She perches herself at the edge of the bed to peel off her socks. The double doors to the ensuite are open, and she has a clear view of the bathtub from where she’s sitting. The tub isn’t full yet, and because it’s so big, she still has a couple of minutes before she has to turn the water off. “Are you okay?”
“I just got a call from Frances. Marin… they found Thomas.”
She hears the words, but her brain can’t fully comprehend them. She’s frozen, one sock dangling from her foot, only half pulled off. “What did you say?” she asks, and it comes out a strangled whisper.
“Frances got a call from the police this morning that they found Thomas.” Simon’s voice changes halfway through the sentence. It gets quieter.
And then she understands. The news hits her like a throat punch, and suddenly she can’t swallow.
“Oh my god.” Marin can barely choke the words out. “Oh, Simon. Oh no.”
“They found his body in a crack house in Stockton.”
“California?”
“I don’t have all the details, but… he overdosed. And he was in there for a couple of days after he… I guess the others thought he was sleeping. They didn’t find any ID on him, but he had a tattoo onhis wrist that said ‘Frances,’ and a few of the other junkies confirmed that he went by the name Tommy.”
“When did he…” She can’t finish the sentence.
“Two weeks ago,” Simon says. “It took that long to ID him. I guess it wasn’t a priority.”
She can feel herself sliding down from the bed to the floor. Her ass hits the carpet soundlessly. She can barely hold the phone to her ear; it’s like her entire body has turned to jelly.Oh god. Oh Frances. Poor Frances.
“Why didn’t Thomas call her? Why didn’t he just go home?” she says into the phone, but she and Simon both know she’s not asking this because she expects an answer. There are no answers. There are only more questions. And more pain.
“I don’t know.” Simon’s voice cracks. “I don’t know, Marin.”
“Where’s Frances now?”
“She called me from the airport,” he says. “She’s on her way to Stockton. She has to go to the morgue there to make an official ID, and she’s…” His voice breaks. “She’s going to bring his body home.”
Oh Jesus Christ.“I have to call her.”
“She was about to board the plane when she called me, but for sure, give her a call. I’m sure she’ll appreciate hearing from you.”
“Does Lila know?”
“She does now. I called her in between calls to you.”
