“When was the last time you called, Geneva?” I ask. “When was the last time we so much as met for coffee? I called you three months ago. Do you remember that? I left you a bunch of messages on your machine because you didn’t pick up. Ring any bells?”
She has the audacity to frown. “I was gonna call back. I got busy.” She brushes her hair out of her eyes. “Did you call to tell me you and Adrian broke up? ‘Cause that would explain why you’re shacked up with another man.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that Adrian and I broke up,” I say, feeling the lump in my throat get bigger. “The breakup happened somewhere in the middle of I-78.”
She frowns. “You were driving?”
“We weren’t. He was. I was at home, sleeping.”
“That’s because you didn’t pick up three months ago.”
She seems to realize tha
