BooksBarbecue
Back Life Events
Chapters (49)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1.
  6. 2.
  7. 3.
  8. 4.
  9. 5.
  10. 6.
  11. 7.
  12. 8.
  13. 9.
  14. 10.
  15. 11.
  16. 12.
  17. 13.
  18. 14.
  19. 15.
  20. 16.
  21. 17.
  22. 18.
  23. 19.
  24. 20.
  25. 21.
  26. 22.
  27. 23.
  28. 24.
  29. 25.
  30. 26.
  31. 27.
  32. 28.
  33. 29.
  34. 30.
  35. 31.
  36. 32.
  37. 33.
  38. 34.
  39. 35.
  40. 36.
  41. 37.
  42. 38.
  43. 39.
  44. 40.
  45. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  46. Also by Karolina Waclawiak
  47. Praise for Life Events
  48. A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  49. Newsletter Sign-up

I steadied myself at the sink and looked out the window. Through the cacti and lemon trees that lined the stairs next to my house I spotted a curled-up coyote in the dirt in the yard next door. It was sleeping, and I watched it breathing. It didn’t see me when it woke up and started scratching and yawning. It blinked and licked its chops and stared out into the hills. I stood there watching it—quiet, so as not to disturb. Hidden here, the coyote felt safe enough to wake up slowly. It got up with a flick of its tail and walked down the hill and through a hole in the fence and disappeared. As I watched it slink away, I imagined what it would be like to feel that safe.

36.

I texted Daniel on the night before we were supposed to have another session. I’d been thinking about what to say for two days.

I settled on Is tomorrow still good for you?

He didn’t write back for twenty-six minutes.

Oh right. I forgot it was tomorrow. What time?

5. But if that doesn’t work we can change.

No, that’s good.

Before I could think of anything better, I sent a thumbs-up emoji.

“Fuck.”

I threw my phone across the room and walked away.

EVEN AFTER OUR text exchange, Daniel greeted me with the awkwardness of someone who was nervous that he had over-shared. We were doing something deeply intimate here, but we were strangers. He told me that in some ways it made this easier: I had only his side of the story and no one else’s, to see if they matched up. Or to question whether he was telling the truth or obscuring the facts. We both knew that much of this process was up to him—including how much he was willing to let go of before he died.

“How was your week?” he asked.

“Uneventful, really.” It was true but he also didn’t know anything about me. He didn’t ask, either, though I wanted him to. Before our appointment I had spent great care in deciding what to wear. I had a glass of wine. I shaved my legs. I bought an at-home wax kit, my first. I waxed my bikini line and took an electric razor to the rest to trim. I moisturized every last inch of myself after scrubbing myself down with a loofah. I had not done this for Nathan, but it seemed like something Daniel would notice and appreciate if anything were to happen. I put on a skirt that I knew showed off the shapeliness of my legs. I wanted him to be surprised by them while I asked him my questions.