by M. S. Parker
“How many more questions are you going to cram into one breath of air, Astra?” She cocked her eyebrow at me.
“I’m controlling myself,” I said, deadpan.
“I bet.”
“Now talk.”
“About my sex life? Please.” Her delicate snort had me grinning.
“It’s not like I’m asking positions or in depth detail about how he looks naked.” I waved a hand at her. “I saw him mostly naked, remember?”
Kaleb had worked as a stripper when we met him in Vegas. He’d been trying to raise money to get his sister out of a bad place. Camry was a recovering addict, and she seemed to be doing a lot better, but less than a year ago, she’d been attached to a drug-dealing pimp.
I was still wary around her, but Kaleb loved her, and because of that, I knew Piety was giving her new sister-in-law more of a chance. I was reserving my judgment.
“Let’s not think about that,” Piety advised, shaking her head. As she reached for a glass of water, I pulled up a somewhat hazy image from the show we’d seen, featuring that sexy piece of man flesh Piety was now married to.
He was the sort of beautiful man who drew attention no matter where he went. And like many things of beauty, I was happy to admire from afar.
He wasn’t my type.
Still, it was fun to tease my best friend about it. That’s what friends did.
She threw a packet of sugar at me. “Are you thinking about my husband naked?”
“Mostly naked,” I reminded her. “I’ve never seen him fully naked. But I’ll bet I can figure out how big his c–”
“Shit.” She waved a hand in the air. “Fine. I’ll talk. If I don’t distract you, you’ll just stay on this tangent.”
She knew me so well.
“Yes. We screwed each other’s brains out. And…” She sighed and looked up, eyes closing in bliss. “We laid on the beach – or I did. He went surfing. It’s amazing, watching Kaleb on a board. We drove around. I got to see kangaroos. Koalas. We went to New Zealand…”
Her voice trailed off, and after a minute, I poked her in the arm. “And what?”
“It’s a dream,” she said simply. “Seriously. The mountains, the green. It’s all so unreal. I want that beam thing on Star Trek, but instead of beam me up, Scottie, I want some Kiwi to beam me over.”
“Kiwi?”
She laughed. “New Zealanders are Kiwis. And there are these little birds, too…also called kiwis. Adorable.”
“You sound…” Huffing out a breath, I finished, “Adorable. Ridiculously adorable and happy.”
“I am.” She shrugged and then leaned forward, pulling a binder toward her. “But…we aren’t here to talk about how cute and happy I am. Or for you to make faces at me.”
Had I been making faces?
I didn’t know.
Sticking my tongue out at her, I gestured to the fat, leather folio on the table. “Let’s get to it then.”
I reached for my wine as she unzipped the folio, flipping it open to the calendar. Our server paused by the table to clear the plates, and I flicked a few crumbs away from me as Piety flipped open one of the brochures I picked up while she was out of town.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” I told her.
“I know.” She sighed and rubbed her temple, gazing at the glossy photos and text printed on the thick paper. “This would be so much easier if we’d hired somebody when we started working on this a couple months ago. Event planners know all about this, don’t they? I mean my wedding planner…”
Her voice trailed off as she put the brochure down and reached for another.
“But I thought we thrived on chaos,” I said lightly.
I personally did.
Piety did too – or she used to, at least. I supposed being a mom would change that. She was going to be a great mom. Unlike our moms. Things were better between her and her parents, but they still wouldn’t win any parenting awards.
Clearing my throat, I turned back to my original thought.
“If we hire a planner, we can’t thrive.”
She laughed. “I thrive on sleep lately.”
I went to make a jab at her but stopped, because I realized that beneath all that glow, she looked tired. Reaching out, I put a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”
“Just tired.” She lifted a shoulder and smiled. But it didn’t do anything to change the fact that she had shadows under her eyes.
“PS, do I need to strong arm you into going to see a doctor?” The nickname wasn’t one I used much anymore.
She rolled her eyes. “Stop it. I’m just tired, Astra. I’m pregnant, remember? And that flight was a bitch. Coming back to hear that the caterer for our event canceled and is leaving us hanging…ugh.”
“You’re the one who decided to fly to the other side of the globe while you were pregnant.” I made a face at her but relaxed. If she said she was okay, I believed her.
And it made sense.
Growing a person had to be exhausting.
Thinking of that, I wiggled uncomfortably in the chair and went back to something much more comfortable than thinking about growing a baby. Namely, business shit. “Well, good news is, I didn’t let her keep the deposit. She kept insisting she was entitled, and I pulled out the contract.”
“Did you now? You hadn’t lost it?” Piety smirked.
I scowled at her. “I only did that once.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, twice,” I admitted. “Now, can we figure out what we’re going to do?”
She looked back at the planner she’d brought with her and shook her head. “Normally, I’d be all over this, especially since I’ve finally got my parents convinced I’m not some flighty piece of work they need to guide in the right direction. Maybe they’ll actually see what I’m doing instead of what they think I should be doing.”
I grimaced. “Lucky you.”
“Hey.” She poked me in the arm. “It took getting kidnapped and held hostage to make them see me for who I was instead of some political piece.”
“I don’t think I’ll go that far.” Making another face at her, I pulled the folio over to me and flipped to the calendar. Trying to coax a smile, I nudged her. “I’ve already finished my costume.”
“And will you change your mind again like you did last year?”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Weren’t you just complaining about your parents’ issues with flightiness?”
“So…I’m guessing you changed your mind at least three times.”
“Brat.” Huffing out a sigh, I said, “No. Two. But it didn’t matter. The same basic idea worked for both.”
And it was possible I’d change my mind again, but that was part of the fun.
“Your dad is really okay with all of this?” I asked, trying not to sound as wistful as I felt.
“Yeah.” Without looking up at me, she reached over and covered my hand with hers. “You know your parents love you.”
“Sure. Like they’d love a puppy. It just wasn’t as easy to get rid of me once I grew out of the puppy stage…like they did with Max.” One Christmas, my parents had given me a Schnauzer. It had been the best present, and we’d all had fun playing with him. But Mom and Dad didn’t think about things like neutering a dog, and when he’d gotten older and started acting like unneutered boy dogs do, they’d gotten rid of him, giving the sweet boy to a friend who lived outside of the city.
And that friend wasn’t careful. Max ended up getting hit by a car and dying before he was even a year old.
I cried for two days and never asked for a pet again.
Heaving out a breath, I looked at the list of things to be done in the next few weeks. We knew from experience that if we didn’t start on it now, it would only get more difficult as time passed.
“What about a theme?” I asked Piety abruptly, determined to get my mind off my parents.
“You’ve already picked out your costume,” she reminded me.
I gr
inned. “So, we make the theme work with my costume.” Waving a hand, I grabbed my laptop and flipped it open. As the computer booted up, I dug around in my purse for my glasses.
“I’m surprised you still haven’t done the eye thing yet,” Piety said.
“And let some maniac with a laser near my eyeballs?” I shuddered. “No. Capitol N. Capitol O. No.”
She laughed as I slid the black cat-eye framed glasses into place.
“Besides, I look good in glasses.” I winked at her. “Sexy librarian good.”
“You look good in anything.” She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, bracing her elbow a little closer so she could see the monitor. “Guys would still fall all over you if you walked around wearing burlap.”
“No…they’d be falling all over me because I’d be naked. Burlap would be itchy.” Wagging my eyebrows, I typed in a search for fun Halloween themes. One of the first had me bursting out laughing. “What do you think? Would my parents go for it? You could dress up as Ana. I’d have to start from scratch, but…”
She gave me a light shove. “Please don’t. And if anything, my mom would be Ana.”
“What?” Whipping my head around, I gaped at her. “Amara Van Allen actually read... Fif… Fif…” I faked gagged. “I can’t even say it.”
“I should have kept my mouth shut.” Pushing her dark hair back from her face, Piety eyed me narrowly. “Camry gave a copy to my mom. They’ve…well, it’s weird, but Mom and Camry have really hit it off. I think Mom’s trying to make up for everything between us, and she’s being super sweet to Camry. And it was like…I dunno. She’s practically adopted the girl. Then Camry goes and gives the book to my mom. I’ve walked in on her reading it, Astra. Freaked the shit out of me.”
I grinned. “Maybe I should get her one with those BDSM for beginners kits.”
Piety pointed a threatening finger at me. “Be quiet, or I’m going to hurt you. Friendship will only get you so far.”
“Okay, okay.” I skimmed down a little further. “Did we ever decide if we were going with a masquerade ball or just costumes?”
“I don’t know.” With a shrug, she moved closer once more. “I think it sounds fun, but keep in mind, we’re trying to snare some of our dads’ friends, and a lot of them are a little…stand-offish. If we toss in something like masks are welcome and encouraged, it will probably discourage some of them from coming.”
“Because they are sticks in the mud.” I sighed. Leave it to them to take all the fun out of things. “Fine…we can do masks are welcome, but not required.” A picture caught my eye, and I tapped it. “You know, you’d look awesome in a dress like that. And picture Kaleb dressed up as the beast. Not in the torn-up cape thing, but at the end. Beauty and the Beast.”
“I love that fairy tale.” She smiled a little.
“We could do a fairy tale theme. It would be fun.” I didn’t care if it didn’t match the costume I’d originally planned to wear. I could do that anytime. I liked the idea of fairy tales.
“If we did, what would you be?”
“A mermaid,” I said, not even having to think about it. I’d always loved The Little Mermaid, although I hated the Disney-fied version. The one from Hans Christian Anderson was much more poignant. Even if she did turn to seafoam or whatever at the end.
“You…the little mermaid. You going to be quiet the whole night?”
“Whatever.” I waved a dismissive hand at her.
“If we did a fairy tale, a million women will show up like Belle or Cinderella. That’s so boring.” Piety shook her head.
“Okay…maybe something like Famous Lovers Throughout History.” I waved a hand. “We’ll pick something catchier for a title. And we can work in a line that if you don’t have a date, come as you are and we’ll help you meet your match.”
We tossed around a few more ideas but kept coming back to famous couples.
Piety insisted it should be famous people.
I’d probably end up agreeing. I wouldn’t be coming with anybody, that was for certain, even though it was still some ways off. I wasn’t feeling much like hooking up with my usual friend with benefits.
“Let me send myself an email on these things,” I said, clicking over to the window. I hadn’t checked my email in…days. Maybe a week.
Shit. The sheer number of messages in my inbox made me groan, and I thought about doing a nuclear method – delete them all.
But one name popped out. Piety. Pictures.
“You didn’t tell me you’d sent pictures,” I said, giving her an accusing look.
“You told me you wanted them.” She lifted a shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I send some?”
“Brat.” Clicking on the email, I started to download and whistled as I caught sight of the status bar. “How many did you send?”
“A lot. I took…” She laughed a little. “A lot. Here. I’ve got quite a few on my phone too.”
While the images downloaded and drained my battery, we huddled over her phone, and I scrolled through the pictures.
There was one of Kaleb running up from the beach, holding a surfboard, water running down his face and chest as a brilliant grin lit him up.
“He looks so happy,” I said softly.
“Yeah.”
And Piety…didn’t.
“What’s wrong?”
Turning to her, I reached over and took the phone, putting it down so she couldn’t change the subject.
“He misses Australia.”
Something about the way she said it turned me cold. “You’re not…I mean, are you thinking about moving there?”
“No, silly.” Piety laughed a little. “Camry is staying in the States. She’s happy here, and Kaleb won’t leave her, but…hell, with her in college now back in California, he doesn’t see her that much. He gave up everything for her, and now he’s giving up everything for me.”
She looked away, but I caught a lock of her hair, tugging on it until she looked back at me. “What gives, PS?”
“I…” She blew out a breath, then looked up at the cloud-strewn sky. “Astra, I’ve been thinking about asking Kaleb if he’d like to move to California.”
A hundred words leaped to my lips.
Why?
California?
How?
That’s stupid.
You can’t go!
Please!
I didn’t let myself say anything for the longest time, then slowly, I asked, “Why California? So he can be near Camry?”
“Yes.” She plucked at a loose thread on her shirt. “That…and he…don’t tell him we talked about this, okay? But he had dreams of opening his own surf shop back in Australia. And he’s so good at it. He says he’s not good enough to go pro, but so what? It makes him happy, and he could be surfing more and be near his sister and…”
“You want him to be happy,” I said into the lull.
“Yes.” Her eyes, bright and sharp, met mine.
I asked the question that was more important to me. “Will you be happy?”
Piety took my hands. “I’m married to a guy I love so much, it hurts. And he loves me. We’re getting ready to have a baby. And I love California. Why couldn’t I be just as happy there as I am here?”
“Then you should talk to him.” I was pleased. Those words had been delivered calmly and easily, and even though it hurt just to say them, I’d done it.
“You think so?”
No!
Ignoring that hurt little girl inside me, I nodded. “Absolutely.”
And I almost sounded like I meant it.
Four
Astra
“Penelope, would you like another Bloody Mary?”
Mom glanced at my dad, an absent smile on her face, as though he’d pulled her from some comfortable daydream. I knew she didn’t mind the intrusion much. She’d use the strong drink to ease her return trip. She wasn’t a drunk, but she did like her mixed drinks.
“Absolutely, Elliot, darling.” They both shared
a smile and Dad went off to get the Bloody Mary – and probably kiss the new chef – while Mom sipped her coffee and pretended to eat.
She’d had a few bites of her grapefruit and two forkfuls of egg while ignoring the fact that I preferred to eat and loved my curves rather than live in a constant state of hunger to stay slender like her.
My plate was full of French toast, cheesy eggs, a wonderful potato casserole, and bacon. Even if Dad was sleeping with the new chef, I couldn’t fault her cooking.
I couldn’t even fault her for fucking my dad, really.
Mom and Dad had never really enjoyed what one might call a match made in heaven. It had been a match made in financial planning and pedigree. I was the baby who had put a shining finish on what looked to be a picture-perfect marriage on the outside. Inside, it was just…empty. Not cruel or cold, but empty all the same.
Nearly ten minutes passed before Dad returned, and when he put the glass down next to Mother, she eyed it as if she’d forgotten she’d even asked for it.
I wasn’t surprised by that either. She lived in her own little world
“Have you seen Piety?” Mom asked. “Is she back from her honeymoon…where did she go again? Antigua, was it?”
Before I could answer, Dad did. “It was Australia, Penelope. With a stop in New Zealand, if I’m right.” He glanced at me, and I nodded.
If they were going to talk to each other, I’d just as soon be left out of it. I hated when they tried to act like we were a normal family. Not because I didn’t love them. I did. And I knew they loved me in their own way. But the only time they made this kind of attempt was when we were gathered around a table, eating one of our mandatory meals.
We had brunch every other Sunday, and dinner every other Thursday. I’d been forced to rearrange a class for that. The dinner had been on Mondays, but Mom found it too taxing to do anything at night after a Monday full of charity board meetings. So naturally, I rescheduled. I wouldn’t want to interfere with her “relaxation,” even if we all knew what exactly that was.