“I don't understand.” His hand was making circles on her neck now, making her skin tingle in the most pleasant way.
“My parents were obviously big believers in Bonus Night. After they'd been divorced a little over a year, Heather was born. Dad is listed on the birth certificate as the father and she calls him dad. I chose not to ask too many questions.”
“Okay,” he said skeptically, “what about the blonde one?”
“Three years after Heather was born, Tiffany came along. Again, I chose not to ask questions. I was only seven at the time, so I didn't really understand what was going on anyway. Of course now I realize how jacked up the whole thing was. Mom finally wised up and got her tubes tied after Tiffany.”
Will was obviously having a hard time processing this information. He stopped playing with her hair and looked at her quizzically. Liz tried to explain it to him.
“My parents have what you could call a love/hate relationship. They hate each other enough that they can't live together, but love each other enough that they can't really stay away. So they live in separate houses on the same property. Dad runs the farm and mom runs the gift shop. They see each other for work things and kid stuff, though not as much since it's just Heather and Tiffany home now. It's been this way for years. I know it's weird, but you get used to it.”
“Who lived with whom growing up?”
“At first we were together in the pink house, then after the divorce we all stayed with mom during the week and dad on weekends because it was the busy time in the gift shop. After Tiffany was born, I went to live full time at dad's because mom needed the space for the baby and I was the most willing to go. Jenny was about fifty-fifty at that point. After Jenny turned ten, she came to stay at dad's full time, too, so mom could focus on the baby and not have to worry about the bigger kids and getting us to school and all our activities while Tiffany was napping. We’d often all have dinner together at mom’s, then walk across the fields to dad’s to sleep.”
“What about Heather?”
“She's always lived with mom, even though I think she would have been happier with dad. Heather's the intellectual type and my mom is... well, she's not. Mom has never understood Heather, but she was quiet and stayed out of trouble, unlike me and Jenny, and she was useful in the shop, so mom kept her around. She's in college now studying engineering and seems to have really found her niche. I'm happy for her. You'll meet her when we visit. She'll probably be one of the only ones that won't give you a headache.”
“So where will we stay when we go down for Thanksgiving?”
“Normally, I would say my dad's, because that's what I usually do. My mom can be exhausting. But he's very perceptive and really knows me, so he might suspect something's up. Plus, he likes to tease a lot and is very sarcastic, so it can get on some people's nerves if you're not used to it. Not like my teasing which is sweet and endearing.” He looked at her with one eyebrow cocked and she grinned impishly.
“Okay, so your dad might blow the cover, but would probably be more pleasant to stay with. Your mom will wear us down, but isn't likely to catch that we're faking it?”
“That's about it. She's not stupid, she just doesn't see what she doesn't want to see. And she might kill me if I bring my new husband home and don't stay with her. We'll have to stay in the guestroom because my old room is at dad's.”
“Too bad. I always had a thing for rooms in parents' houses.” He pulled her closer so her head was on his shoulder and his hand rubbed her back gently.
“William Harper! How naughty of you! I never would have suspected it from Mr. Straight-laced.”
“I think it came from my university girlfriend, Sandra. Winter break of our sophomore year, I stayed with her at her parents’ for New Year. It was mortifying at first because I had expected to sleep on the couch, given our ages and the fact that we weren't married. Her parents just assumed I would be staying with her and put my bag in her room.” He chuckled quietly. “The walls were this hideous shade of pink, and the duvet was this ruffled affair and covered in stuffed animals. She actually had names for all of them.”
“She told you that?”
“Oh yes, she told me. I was treated to a role call as she cleared the bed the first night. And she was wearing flannel pajamas with little ballerinas on them. My twelve-year-old sister had the same ones.” He and Liz grimaced together. “She kept snuggling up to me and trying to start something, but I couldn't get the picture of Jacqueline out of my head. Anyway, nothing ended up happening and afterward I thought, 'What a wasted opportunity.' At least I thought that at the time.” He shrugged. “I guess it will be a while longer before I live out that particular fantasy.”
Liz smacked his arm.
“Hey!” He squeezed her closer.
“So what happened? To you and Sandra?” she asked softly, her fingers tracing random patterns on his abdomen.
“What usually happens to people you date in uni? We saw each other for a few more months after that and then grew apart. We only had one class together that spring and by autumn we were in completely different circles. We split amicably and she went on to date a rugby player whom she later married. They now live in Sussex with a dog and three children, I believe.”
“Did you date anyone after her?”
“Not really. I hung out with small groups of friends and went out on a few dates of course, but nothing regular after that. I couldn't, really.”
“Why not? Were you still hung up on Sandra?”
“No, that wasn't it. I knew it would never go anywhere with Sandra.”
“What do you mean?” Liz asked.
“We were too different. It wouldn't have worked.”
“Sometimes opposites attract.”
“I suppose, but I had expectations to meet.”
Her hand stilled and she sat up to look at him. “I see. You didn't mean different in personality, but different in social status. She was beneath you,” Elizabeth said with brow raised and back stiff.
He pulled back his arm that had been around her. “I wouldn't say 'beneath me.' But we were from different spheres, yes. Don't look at me like that, Liz. A man in my position has a lot of responsibilities. I'm expected to marry a certain kind of woman, from a particular family. It's a lot of pressure and someone who didn't grow up in it wouldn't know how to handle it. She'd be unhappy, I'd be disappointed, and eventually we'd resent each other and get divorced. So why bother? Just skip the heartache altogether.” He shrugged and tilted his head in a flicking gesture.
“Did Sandra know you were just slumming it with her?” Liz's voice was like ice and she was now sitting on the edge of the cushion.
“I never made her any promises,” he said coldly.
“No, you just dated her for over a year, went home to meet her parents, and slept with her whenever you had the chance.” Will flushed slightly. “Am I wrong? Did you tell her on your first date, 'Listen, I think you're cute and all and I'd like to shag you, but you should know right now that it'll never go anywhere because I'm expected to marry a high-society ice queen'?” Will's jaw clenched. “That's what I thought.” She slid further away.
“You have no idea what it's like to live in my world.”
“Don't I? What do you think I've been doing for the past six months, Will? Having dinner with your business partners, getting my nails done with their wives who wouldn't know what work was if it injected them with Botox, attending every black tie, overdone, ridiculous event where everyone pretends to be doing it all for charity but really just wants their picture in the paper!” Her eyes blazed as she leaned toward him, her voice hard. “You people are such snobs! Why didn't you get one of them to marry you? Nobody really cares about anybody else, anyway; it would have been easy enough to find some inflated Barbie to sign all your little papers. They probably would have been lining up to marry the Great William Harper! You didn't have to choose the daughter of a Christmas tree farmer from Virginia!”
“Would you stop fr
eaking out? Why are you taking everything so personally? This is just a business deal. It's not like we're really married!” he shouted.
Liz went pale, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Of course. How silly of me. We're not friends, this is just business. Excuse me, Mr. Harper.”
“Liz, wait!” Will called after her, but she was half way down the hall. By the time he got to his feet, her door had clicked quietly shut.
24
Doghouse
Mid November
7 Months Married
“Cheers, mate. It’s not fancy, but happy birthday!” Jamison held his beer toward William and clinked his glass with his own.
“Thanks, Jamison,” William said with a small smile.
“Is Liz still not talking to you?” Andrew asked as he poured ketchup onto his plate.
“Yup. It's like Silence of the Lambs in there. She hasn't said a single word to me outside of business deals. She needed to change our plans the other night and called Evelyn to leave a message. She won't even talk to me on the phone.”
“But you're still going on your dates, right? I saw a picture of you at the hospital thing.” He added mustard to his burger and signaled the server for more napkins.
“Yes, she is everywhere she's supposed to be, impeccably dressed, perfect manners, but the second we get in the car or go back home, she shuts me out. That picture from the hospital fundraiser?”
“Yeah?”
“That dress was backless. When I put my arm around her to pose for the picture, I swear I could feel her skin repelling me.”
Andrew chuckled. “Aren't you being a little dramatic?”
“I'm telling you, Jamison, it's like she's a whole other person. No more beer and grilled cheese, no more talks after I get home from work. Nothing. She says nothing. She doesn't even watch telly in the living room anymore. She works late most nights with that professor of hers, and when I asked her about it, on a date of course so she would have to talk to me, she glared at me for a nanosecond, then did this scary sweet smile and said he just needed her a lot right now because they were getting so close to the end.”
“But it wasn't that long ago that you were complaining about how she sings too much in the house and keeps talking to you. You don't like the peace and quiet?”
“Trust me, Jamison, there is nothing peaceful about this quiet. It's the kind of quiet you hear in a horror movie right as the skinny blonde girl who can't find her phone is walking into the woods in the middle of the night. It's creepy quiet.”
Andrew couldn't help but laugh.
“What's so funny? I'm serious, Andrew—something's got to give. It's been two weeks! We're supposed to be going to see her parents for Thanksgiving—in six days! How are we going to pull that off if she isn't even speaking to me? We're going to have to share a room for Christ's sake!”
“Sounds like you miss Lizzy.”
“I do. We were friends—at least I thought we were. Oh, God! I'm Jerry fucking Maguire!”
“Have you tried apologizing?”
“For what? I said nothing that wasn't true. She shouldn't have taken everything so personally. I wasn't talking about her.”
“Harper, when are you going to get that women have this solidarity thing? If you piss off one of them, you may as well piss off all of them.”
“What is that?”
“Pack mentality,” Andrew said between mouthfuls of fries.
“I guess that explains why they're always going to the loo together.”
***
Her calendar flashed blue with a reminder. William’s birthday. She dismissed it with a frown and turned her attention to her sister.
“When do you leave for Farmington?” asked Jen as they sat on the couch in her apartment.
“I'm taking the train down Wednesday.”
“Is William still going with you?”
“I don't know. The train is probably too pedestrian for him. He'll probably take the company plane. Don't know, don't care,” Liz said petulantly.
“Really? Won't it look suspicious if you arrive by train and he flies down?”
“Probably. I don't even know if he's coming. Honestly, I'd be relieved if he didn't. One less thing to worry about. I can just enjoy my visit with my family. Dad's the only one who would notice anything, and I can just tell him we got in a fight and I wouldn't even be lying.”
Jennifer squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I won’t be there with you.”
“Don’t be. It’s your first holiday with Andy’s family. You should be there, it’s a big step for you two.”
“Thanks. But all the same, this is going to be rough. And probably pretty entertaining. I’m sad I’m going to miss it,” Jen added with a sly grin.
“Jenny!” Liz whined. “I can't believe I have to live through eighteen more months of this! And I almost had sex with him! What was I thinking?” She dropped her head dramatically onto the pillow she was holding. “You know what I did last night? I counted up all the days between now and when he gets his ten-year green card and calculated what sixty percent of that time was. Then I tried to plan how I could spend forty percent of the time away from him and how to spread it out so it won't look suspicious.”
“I thought it was seventy percent?”
“Ohhh!” she groaned. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“I'm so sorry, sweetie. If you need to come spend a few days with me, you know you're welcome. Andrew has a cabin in Vermont. Maybe we can go there for a couple of days to get away from it all—just us girls. We can get Laura to come and you won't have to pretend with us.”
“That sounds wonderful, Jenny. Unfortunately, there's not enough time to go before I have to be back home. Maybe the three of us can go out together? After midterms and hosting Will's Dutch people and this fight, I'm wiped.”
“I'll call Laura.”
Two hours later, Jenny and Liz were sitting on the floor in Laura's loft apartment flipping through a collection of DVD's that could only be labeled as chick flicks. Laura made a pitcher of margaritas and Jenny ordered Thai food. One of Laura's clients had sent her Godiva chocolates as a gift and she placed the three-pound box on the coffee table with a flourish. Liz's eyes lit up and Jenny dived for the velvet ribbon surrounding the golden box. The next five hours were a blur of Julia Roberts, tequila, random tears, and nonsensical chatter.
“Was it really so bad?” Laura slurred, her glass swishing dangerously in her hand.
“You should have seen his face. He didn’t care at all, like he was this great, benevolent lover who graced some lucky woman with his penis.” Liz took a swig of tequila straight from the bottle.
Jen sniggered quietly and Laura guffawed. “Well, depending on the penis, she might not have minded.”
Jen laughed out loud and tipped off the sofa. “Poor Lizzy, all hormoned up and no one to sleep with.”
Liz threw a pillow at her sister. “Hey, don’t taunt your drunk, sexually frustrated sister.”
“Seriously, though,” Laura added, putting her chin on the arm of the couch as she leaned forward from her seat on the floor, “what are you going to do? You can’t cheat. You’ll be in serious trouble.”
Liz threw herself back on the couch dramatically. “I don’t know! I guess I could get a vibrator? Do those even work?”
“Oh, God! This just gets better and better!” Jen howled.
“You’re a bitch when you’re drunk, you know that?” Liz said.
“They do work, sometimes. I’d offer to let you borrow mine, but that might be crossing the sharing boundary just a bit,” said Laura.
“Yeah, thanks but no thanks,” replied Liz.
By now, Jen was on the floor on her side, laughing silently while her entire body shook. Liz looked at her and rolled her eyes.
“She’s so nice all the time, she has to get all her bitchiness out when she drinks,” Laura surmised.
“Oh, Laura,” Liz said pitifully. “Have I been wrong all along? Is Wi
lliam really a womanizing asshole and I just thought he was a decent guy? What have I gotten myself into?”
“All men are assholes. Hate to break it to you,” Laura replied.
“Hey, Andy’s great!” Jen slurred from her place on the floor.
“Yeah, yeah. He’s rich and smart and good looking and practically perfect in every way. Just watch out. Golden boy’s got to have a dark side somewhere,” Laura declared.
Jen glared at her and let her head fall back on the pillow.
“You might have gotten the last good one, Jenny,” Liz said with a slight smile in her sister’s direction.
“This is why I don’t do relationships. Too messy,” Laura added.
“Oh, God!” Liz moaned. “I’m never going to have sex again!”
Laura snorted. “Not for the next two years anyway. Do you think your hymen will grow back by then?”
Liz kicked her leg. “Not funny!” she said while Laura laughed hysterically.
“You’ll stop being mad soon enough. Then you just have to separate the man from the sex,” Laura advised, gesturing with her hands.
“Ew. I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Sure you can. I do it all the time. It is possible for it to just be physical.”
Jen moaned, clearly the only contribution she was capable of making at that time.
“Right now, the idea of letting that man touch me in any kind of way is nauseating,” Liz said with a shudder.
“Too bad, because he is hooooootttt!” Laura dragged out the last word and broke down into giggles.
Liz sighed and closed her eyes. She knew the way Laura managed her dating life worked for her friend, but she didn’t think it was her style. It’s going to be a long two years.
It was too late to go home, so Liz crashed on the sofa and Jen slept with Laura. In the morning, they kept the shades drawn and drank tea slowly, each of them moving like they were afraid to go too fast.
Forty minutes later, Liz was on the subway heading to her 8:30 class in Laura's shirt. As she walked towards campus, she looked at her phone and saw four missed calls. She pressed the phone to her ear and listened to her voicemail.
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