“This is Olivia,” he said, reaching a hand to snag me, pull me close. “My fiancée.”
He didn’t stumble on the words, and with his hand in mine the world that had shifted a little beneath my feet grew solid again. Alex tugged me to his side, his arm sliding around my waist. “Olivia, this is Jamie. My best fucking friend.”
“Olivia,” Jamie said solemnly. “How the hell did this bastard ever trick you into saying yes?”
And then…it was all right, so far as I could tell. Whatever had passed between them remained there. Jamie pumped my hand thoroughly and slapped Alex’s back a few more times as they traded insults.
“Everyone’s here,” Jamie said. “Come on out in the back and say hi.”
“Everyone?” Alex asked.
Jamie laughed and clapped his shoulder once more. “Yeah, even my mom. Make sure to give her a hug.”
Alex glanced at me. “His mom loves the fuck out of me.”
“Fuck yeah, she does.”
I blinked a little at the f-bombs being dropped all over the place, but laughed. “What’s not to love?”
Jamie gave me another solemn look. “What’s not to love, indeed?”
Outside on the back deck, small groups of guests with plates of food in their hands greeted us. They all knew Alex. None of them seemed as surprised as Jamie had that I was there, or that he introduced me as his fiancée. I also got the impression most of these people might have known him long ago, but not that well.
“There’s Anne,” Jamie said from behind us as Alex led me down the short flight of steps to the yard. “She’s wading with Cam.”
Alex’s hand tightened in mine. “Let me introduce you to Jamie’s wife.”
Anne Kinney wasn’t paying attention to anything but her son as he kicked and splashed in the shallow water at the lake’s edge. She wore faded jeans that looked as if they might have been her husband’s, rolled up to the calf and belted tight around her waist with a bright scarf. Her red hair hung in a long wavy braid down her back, and her striped oxford shirt was wet from splashing.
“Go with Grammy,” she said as we walked up, and the little boy took off in the opposite direction, toward an older woman in a large sun hat who held out her arms to catch him.
“Anne.”
She turned slowly at the sound of Alex’s voice, as if she had all the time in the world, and when she saw him, she smiled. “Hello, Alex.”
Unlike her husband, Anne didn’t seem to be surprised to meet me at all. She wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and looked from me to Alex. She raised a brow.
“This is Olivia,” Alex said. “My…We’re getting married.”
“Congratulations,” Anne said.
She sounded as if she meant it. She did not step forward to hug him, the way Jamie had. Nor did she hold out a hand to shake. She didn’t touch Alex at all.
“Olivia,” she said warmly, “did my husband get you something to drink or eat? No? What a brat. C’mon, let’s find something before that pack of locusts he calls a family eats it all.”
And just like that, she took my elbow and led me off toward the house.
“Don’t worry about Alex. He’ll be with James,” she said with fond resignation. “Those two together are a force of nature. It’s best just to stand out of the way.”
In the kitchen she pulled cool bottles of cola from the fridge and handed me one. She unscrewed the top and drank back hers with a gulp. I took a little longer with mine, gave a dainty sip. I hadn’t said much.
“It was nice of Alex to bring you,” Anne said quietly.
Outside, the music played and the party went on. People laughed. I heard the rev of an engine and a baby’s cry. I looked out the bay windows overlooking the deck. I could see Alex and Jamie standing side by side at the railing, both holding beers. The wind blew Alex’s hair off his face. He was laughing. Had I ever seen him laugh like that? Stand like that? Had I ever watched him lean toward another person the way I thought he’d only ever lean toward me?
“They’ve been…friends…a long time?” I said at last.
“Oh, yeah. Since junior high.” Anne crossed her arms over her belly, hands cupping her elbows. She looked out the window, too. “They are very, very good friends.”
Before I could say more—uncertain if I even wanted to—the back door opened and a younger woman tumbled through it with Anne’s son squirming in her arms. “Mama, this stinky little boy needs a change.”
“Thanks, Claire. My sister,” Anne said, as Claire heaved the boy over her shoulder and spanked his diapered bottom fondly. “Claire, have you met Olivia? Alex’s fiancée.”
“No fucking way,” Claire said.
“Fuggingway!” a small voice crowed from over her shoulder.
Anne sighed. “Claire.”
“Sorry.” Her sister grinned and turned the boy right side up on her hip. “Change this kid, gross. Olivia. Hello.”
She held out a hand and I shook it. She studied me up and down, checking out every inch. I wasn’t sure if I’d passed inspection until she let out a low whistle and shook her head.
“You’re marrying Alex?”
“That’s the plan,” I said as lightly as I could.
“Claire!” Anne sounded exasperated.
An impish face peeked at me from behind his hands. He had blond hair like his daddy, his mother’s fair skin. He had big gray eyes. I looked at him for a very long time.
“What?” Claire shrugged. “Sheesh. Any woman who agrees to marry that guy has to have a sense of humor, at least.”
I laughed, not feeling judged. “I try.”
“See?” Claire made a face at Anne and wiggled the boy on her hip until he giggled. “Look, I’ll take this Mr. Stinkybutt here and change him, okay? Am I forgiven my social fox pass?”
“Fox pass!” the little boy cried, laughing.
“Faux pas,” Anne murmured, and rolled her eyes. “Yes, please change Cam’s diaper. Thank you.”
“Nice meeting you, Olivia. Don’t let anyone here scare you off. We’re not a bad bunch.”
“I’m not scared,” I said.
Claire took Cam back down the hallway and I could hear their laughter even out here. Anne tore a paper towel from the rack and used it to wipe up some barely there crumbs from the counter. She tossed the towel in the trash and drank another gulp of her soda.
“How old is your son?”
“Cam’s almost three.”
Outside, Alex and Jamie had disappeared from the deck.
“I’m starving,” she said. “Let’s go outside and get something to eat, all right? And I’m sure someone’s doing something crazy, like playing lawn darts or getting ready to sing karaoke.”
My own stomach rumbled, and I thought eating, if nothing else, would give me something to do, since I’d been abandoned by my boyfriend. “Food would be good.”
“C’mon,” Anne said. “I’ll show you where it is.”
I’ve been to parties where I knew every person and had an awful time, and to ones where I didn’t know a soul and had a blast. This party was a mix. I didn’t need Alex by my side every second, but I spent more time waving at him from across the yard and watching him play lawn darts or drink beer after beer than I did talking to him. He didn’t ignore me—he checked in on me every hour or so, and I saw him looking for me a few times. But he wasn’t with me.
He was with Jamie, whom everyone else called James.
The other people at the party were all very nice. They included me in their conversations as if they’d known me for years. Some of us set up a rousing game of Balderdash, one of my favorite board games, and we all laughed a lot. Claire and her husband, Dean, took me out on the little sailboat while their daughter Penny stayed behind with Anne’s parents. We ate a lot, danced a bit, even sang a little karaoke.
Darkness fell, and someone lit a few tiki torches along the edge of the water and some paper lanterns strung along the deck. Guests with small children began to leave.
The crew for the pit beef came to clean up, and I helped in the kitchen, bundling leftovers with Anne. We worked well together, side by side, saying little. Frankly, there wasn’t much to say.
And finally, Alex and I were the only guests remaining. Anne had put Cam to bed an hour before, and we’d finished in the kitchen. She’d just turned on the television, and I blessed her for it—we could both watch something stupid together and not have to speak. She’d handed me a glass of iced tea and poured one for herself when Alex and Jamie at last stumbled in from outside.
“Baby,” Alex said.
I’d never seen him drunk before. His eyes shone with it, and his cheeks were flushed. His mouth looked wet and soft. He’d unbuttoned his shirt nearly to the waist, and had somewhere lost his shoes. Jamie didn’t look much better—his hair was stuck with sweat to his forehead and his shirt bore grass stains.
“What the hell have you been doing?” Anne said. “Wrestling?”
“Fucker tried to jump me for the last beer,” Jamie said. “Had to kick his ass.”
“Fuck you, fucker,” Alex said, and added a two-handed one-finger salute. “You stole the last dinner roll.”
“We have more dinner rolls,” Anne said drily, and tucked her feet under her on the couch. “They’re in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Alex put a hand over his heart. “Anne. You’re a goddess.” He looked at me. “Baby…baby, where’ve you been all day? I missed you.”
He tripped on the two stairs leading to the sunken living room, and hit the love seat beside me ass first. Laughing. He put his head on my shoulder to look up at me with those big gray eyes. “Baby, hi.”
I touched his face. His skin was hot. He kissed my palm and I took my hand away, awkward at this sudden display of affection in front of his friends. “Hi.”
Alex sat up. Jamie had gone to rustle around in the fridge. I caught Anne’s gaze, staring after her husband. She didn’t look upset, exactly. More as if she was resigned. And definitely not surprised.
“Bring me one of those rolls, fucker,” Alex called.
“Fuck you, dick, come get your own. I’m not your fucking servant.”
“Fuck you, ya shit-kicker,” Alex said, and settled farther into the love seat next to me. “Baby, will you get me a dinner roll?”
“Baby,” I said tightly, “maybe we’d better think about heading back to the hotel.”
“No, no, you can’t go yet.” Jamie turned from the fridge, his face a picture of dismay. “You just got here! I’m about to crack open a bottle of Jameson!”
Both men cracked up laughing. Anne and I did not. She sighed. I felt my every muscle go stiff.
“James, Cam’s sleeping,” she said.
Jamie put a finger to his lips. “Right. Sorry. I forgot. We’ll go outside. C’mon, you fucking cocksucker, get your pansy ass out on the deck so we can drink this shit.”
Beside me, Alex stirred and sat up straight. I thought for sure he would take offense to Jamie calling him a cocksucker, but he only laughed and nudged against me. “We’ll go in a little while, baby. Okay?”
I bit down on my tongue, hard. There’s a fine line between being firm and being a bitch, and I was about to cross it. I was even considering making a scene. I’d spent hours here, being ignored, making nice with strangers. Watching my fiancé act like an idiot with a guy who stood too close to him.
“James,” Anne said quietly, like a warning.
I didn’t want to be grateful to her, but I was. I stood. Alex stood, too. He held on to my arm, maybe for support, maybe just to prove a point.
“One drink,” he said. “Then we’ll go. I haven’t seen Jamie in a long time.”
If he’d kissed me, that would’ve been the end. But he didn’t. He just gave me a look he knew I couldn’t resist, and I guess I wasn’t as interested in being a bitch as I’d thought.
“I love you,” he said into my ear, in too loud a voice to be a whisper, though he seemed drunk enough to think that’s what he’d done.
Then he and Jamie went out onto the deck, leaving me and Anne to stare at each other across the coffee table. She clicked off the television. I could hear laughter from outside.
“Sorry,” she said. “It has been a long time since they’ve seen each other.”
“A few years, Alex said.”
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess it has been that long.”
My fingers curled into fists, not from anger, but because I had nothing else to do, nowhere else to put my hands. I had no pockets. I didn’t want to be here.
Another burst of laughter filtered through the back door and turned both our heads. Anne sighed again. I tried a sigh and it caught in my throat. She looked at me, then, eyes narrowed.
“They can both be such dicks,” she said.
Her words surprised a laugh out of me. “You think so?”
“Oh, God, yes.” She stood. “It’s bad enough when they’re just talking on the phone, or through the damned Xbox. And don’t get me started on the Connex tags. I swear they’re both fifteen years old.”
“This is…I haven’t seen him like this.”
She nodded after a second. “You want some more tea? Piece of cake? I saved some.”
“I can always eat cake. Yes.” I followed her to the kitchen, where she pulled a chocolate cake from the back of the fridge.
She cut slices while I poured some tea, and we stood at the island where we could both lean and look out onto the back deck, where all I could see of the men was the bright cherry light of a cigarette being passed back and forth. I cut my fork through the thick chocolate icing, but I didn’t eat it.
“They’re always like this?” I asked.
Anne licked icing from her fork. “I think if they saw each other more often in person, they would not be. Because James isn’t like this with anyone else.”
“Alex is…different here.”
“They’ve been friends a long time,” she said, not for the first time.
I turned to her. “So, what should I do about it?”
She licked more icing and put down her fork. “Do you love him?”
The question didn’t come off as insulting the way it might have from someone else. “I do. Very much.”
“Then you should know…”
“I know enough,” I said.
Anne gave me a long, steady look that made me think she knew a lot more about me than should’ve been possible on such short acquaintance. “Then you could do what I do with James.”
“Which is what?”
She looked out through the glass again as more laughter sifted in the open windows. “You can love him even though sometimes he acts like a dick.”
And then I knew.
It was in what she hadn’t said. In how she hadn’t touched him, not even a handshake earlier. It was in how she’d watched Alex with her husband, both men being boys, and how she’d been so kind to me. And suddenly, sickeningly, it was in a pair of big gray eyes in a toddler’s face.
In the kitchen, everything stopped.
It was a very quiet showdown, and I wasn’t sure whether to draw or hold my fire. I wished desperately for my camera, which I’d left behind in the hotel room. Behind the lens this all might have seemed like just another party. Just another group of people. Anne and James might have been an average married couple. Their son might not have looked like my lover.
But I didn’t have my camera. Everything was right there, punching me in the face, over and over. I drew in a quick, sharp breath.
“I think it’s time for us to go.”
“Olivia,” Anne said quickly, but I was already moving toward the back door, yanking it open.
Alex and Jamie weren’t kissing, but it would have been better if they were. I could’ve ended it there with that as a reason. But they weren’t kissing, they were simply sitting side by side on a big lounge chair, their shoulders touching and their soft laughter speaking of intimacies I didn’t want to hear.
&nbs
p; “Alex.”
He didn’t look up at first, and in the long seconds before he did I considered just leaving him there. Then his eyes turned toward me, and he smiled. I saw love on his face, and I wanted to smack it off.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“But, baby…”
“Now.”
Neither he nor Jamie said anything, but Alex got up. I heard Anne’s footsteps behind me pause in the doorway, but she didn’t speak, either. I had no quarrel with her, or with her husband, and I’d have said so out loud if pressed. In the quiet I heard Cam’s faint cry, and Anne went back inside the house to take care of him. Jamie got off the chair and followed us to the car, where I slid behind the wheel and stared straight ahead while the men said their goodbyes.
I seethed as I drove back to the hotel, but with Alex saying nothing in the passenger seat, I bit my tongue bloody. He disappeared into the bathroom when we got back, pissed forever, and then stumbled into the bed without undressing or brushing his teeth. I stayed in the shower a long, long time, and when I came out, my stomach knotted and twisted, I spent the night in the armchair with the spare blanket from the closet to keep me warm, and no pillow to cradle my head.
It was a long, long drive home.
Chapter
21
We got home late and went right to bed. I left Alex sleeping there the next morning when I woke early and went upstairs to catch up on everything I’d put on hold for the weekend. I lost myself in the soothing minutiae of touching up a series of photographs I was using in a brochure for a local day spa. I’d taken several shots of Sarah in various poses and superimposed her on different backgrounds, trying to give the impression that spending money at this particular spa was the equivalent of a deluxe vacation at an exotic resort. Compared to the vacation I’d just had, anything looked exotic and luxurious.
I was scheduled to work at Foto Folks for the evening shift. I had a mound of laundry to take care of, errands to run. My week to organize. The thought of it, the list of simple tasks I wouldn’t have thought twice about last week, now paralyzed me with indecision. I stared at my computer monitor and my fingers tapped the keys, but I couldn’t focus.