by S. C. York
I’ve never been to Back Bay in Boston before and it’s simply beautiful. His cobblestone street is lined with three-story brownstones and I fell in love as soon as my car turned the corner.
Ryan moves his hand to my back as he leads me to where his Range Rover’s parked at the curb. He opens the door for me, and then walks around climbing in. Putting the key in the ignition he pauses, his eyes are serious when he looks over at me.
Gently placing my hand on his forearm I tell him, “I know. I’m nervous for Blake, too. But we’re here and he’s not alone in this tonight.”
“I think Charles might surprise everyone. Who knows? We’ll see in about an hour,” he replies.
“Oh, God,” I groan, clicking my seatbelt into place, “Just keep my wine glass full.”
His eyes cut over to me and he shakes his head.
“I’d better stick to water until we see where things go,” I reassure him quickly.
“Fair enough,” he replies, pulling the Rover out onto the road.
“Relax. You’re not the one in the hot seat tonight.”
The rest of the drive through Boston is silent. Each of us lost in our own thoughts about the night ahead. Ryan pulls over to valet park and the attendant opens my door, helping me out. Ryan takes my hand and opens the glass doors to the Boston Yacht Club and it’s amazing.
The front entrance faces the city of Boston and the rear of the club opens to the Atlantic. The building itself carved from glass and steel, it’s modern and full of light. The hostess greets Ryan by name, then leads us across the decadent but contemporary dining room under an archway and my breath catches.
Ryan’s father booked a private room to give Blake and Charles an added layer of privacy and like everything else he’s exposed me to this summer, it’s enchanted.
It’s straight out of a set. I could be on Broadway, having dinner on stage. This room is straight out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, with ivy growing from two planted pots twining around an indoor pergola. Sparkling string lights are tucked up through the leaves and a circular table sits underneath; thick white candles sit in the center next to a small cluster of flowers. The room has double doors that lead outside to the docks where members have their boats tied off.
I lock eyes with someone who must be Mrs. Stone. She gives me a small smile as everyone at the table rises to greet us and I feel embarrassed that we are the last ones to arrive.
“Hello, Vanessa, pleased to meet you. Lila Stone,” she says giving me two air kisses on either side of my cheeks and clasping both my hands.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” I reply returning the air kiss thing.
Ryan then introduces me to his father, Evan. Whoa. He’s a handsome and charismatic man with silver hair edging his temples. Like when I met his son, I stare dumbly at him. But not at his feet, it’s his teeth. They must be caps. God, Ryan’s dad is so handsome—he reminds me of George Clooney. God, Mom would go nuts! I must keep her far away, very far away from Ry’s family.
Lila starts to engage me in small talk and I try to tune out the chatter of the men around me to focus on her. She’s petite with white-blonde, bob-length hair. She’s classy and elegant, but her sharp eyes make me nervous as she looks me over, inspecting every inch of my appearance.
I’m grateful when Evan and Charles select a few bottles of wine for the table. It draws her attention away from me and I give Blake a quick wink.
The waitress scurries back with the wine and it’s a performance in itself. She displays the bottles for the men to inspect, opening them one at a time. With flair she pours each of them a small amount to taste and stands at attention for their approval. It’s only when Charles and Evan nod their heads in agreement that she fills the rest of their glasses. Then she pours for the rest of us.
Mr. Stone is the first to raise his glass, “To Charles and Blake, for joining us this evening. And to my son, Ryan, we are elated to have you back.”
I half-heartedly raise my glass with them, still unsure about Ryan’s surprising reconciliation.
The conversation turns to the Stones’ new boat, The Abigail. I guess it’s fitting that they named it after the daughter they lost. I wonder how Ryan feels about that. I know he’s trying to move on—wanting family in his life again. But this must be hard.
“Vanessa, Ryan tells me you’re from Mystic?” Lila asks.
“Yes, that’s where they filmed Mystic Pizza. It’s an old movie,” I respond.
“Yes, dear, I’m very familiar.”
“Oh, of course,” I smile dumbly. Mrs. Stone has more class and elegance than I could ever hope for and I’m an idiot. Of course, she knows where Mystic is.
I take a small sip of water and decide to try again.
“Mrs. Stone, I’m so happy to meet you. I think it’s great that Ryan’s re-connected with his family. It must have been nice to see him after all these years.”
She sits back, the color draining from her face.
What the heck?
“Please, call me Lila. It makes me feel old to be referred to as Mrs. Stone. I understand you and Ryan have only been dating a few months. I think our family is something you know nothing of and it’s poor taste to bring it up.” She sits back and turns away from me with a plastic smile pasted on her face.
I lean forward and gently touch her on the arm, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything, honestly.”
She flinches at the touch of my hand and purses her lips. But in an instant, her distaste is gone and she’s back in control. Flustered, I turn away, putting my hand on Ryan’s thigh under the table.
“What was that with you and my mom?” he whispers into my hair, putting his hand on top of mine.
“Nothing,” I smile brightly not wanting to cause any drama for him or Blake. I glance down at the menu. I’m not hungry but I should eat. The last thing I need is Ryan’s mom thinking I have an eating disorder or something.
Blindly, I point to an entree and hand my menu over to the waitress. The table’s quiet as everyone places their order. Charles swirls his wineglass creating a tiny whirlpool and I watch it swish round and round.
“Lila, as you well know, next month marks fifteen years since my Cora died. To honor her fight with breast cancer we have decided to host a charity gala at the Mystic Yacht Club. It will be the last social event of the season and I’d like you to chair the committee. I know it is last minute. But if anyone can pull it off it’s you. Ryan’s told me about the fundraising you’ve done for Brigham and Women’s Hospital and I must say it’s impressive.”
“Thank you so much, Charles, I’d be honored,” Lila tears up and Mr. Stone gently rubs her back.
I lean over to Ryan and whisper, “Did your mothers know each other?”
“No. My mother just had a lump removed. It turned out to be benign, but it was a wake-up call to us all.”
“Is that why you didn’t go to Newport?”
“Yes. Her close call made me realize maybe it’s time to forgive them both. For Abby’s sake, I’m trying to reconcile.”
“That makes sense,” I tell him, squeezing his hand.
“Congratulations, Lila, I know you will honor my mother and every woman who is facing the disease.”
“Thank you, Blake.” It means a lot. I promise it will be a night to remember.
“To Cora,” Mr. Stone raises his glass and we all salute.
“How’s business been at the firm?” Charles asks Ryan.
“We’re doing well. I’ve been very busy assessing a few complex deals.”
“Yes, you’ve been working so hard,” I beam up at Ry proudly.
“Didn’t he tell you the news?”
Ryan’s head jerks up and he shoots his mother a warning look, “Not now, Mother, some other time.”
“What?” I ask Ryan.
“He’s been asked to go to London. His firm is opening an office for their investors based there, and my Ryan is the only junior level executive going.”
I pick up
my wine glass and gulp it down.
Lila stares at me waiting, hoping this surprise will make me unravel in front of everyone. Now it’s making sense—the way she looked at me earlier. Ryan must have told her some things about me. But before I even glance at him, his lips meet my ear, “We’ll talk about this later, now’s not the time. Tonight’s about Blake. Please, Vanessa. God, I wish I was the one you heard this from.”
My eyes cut to his and I’m desperately trying to act mature, but the little girl in me wants to kick him under the table and scream.
“Is this why you wanted me to quit my job and spend the week here in Boston? Not because I’m moving three hours away. But because you’re moving across the ocean?”
“Vanessa. No, it’s not like that. I just got the call a few hours ago, that it was a done deal.”
The rest of the table’s silent, realizing I’m processing the bomb Lila just dropped on me. I look down at my hands in my lap, “I’m barely hanging on here, Ryan—a thread, literally.”
“I know, babe, I’m sorry.”
He rubs small circles on my back trying to comfort me and my thoughts race; putting all the pieces together. The curt phone calls when he’s been at work, the late nights at the office, the insistence that I quit my paltry job to come up here.
My heart starts spinning and I begin to shake. My palms sweat and I close my eyes. I try to focus on controlling the air flow in and out of my lungs.
It’s happening again. He’s going to leave me.
Like a person dying; it all flashes through my mind. The first time we met at Esker Point, the steamy nights on Block Island, waking up in his arms on the Majesty. Threaded together there’s been a million tiny moments leading me here, with my head bent over my plate fighting hard to control not having another panic attack.
The table’s silent. I don’t lift my head until Charles speaks.
“Vanessa, I hope you’ll indulge me. I’ve been in the dark for weeks now. What happened to Eva? She was one of my best employees and then poof she never showed up to work again,” he says with a snap of his fingers. “It was unexpected and not her style. That was one driven girl. She could’ve gone far at our company. Blake here won’t say a word about it so I hope you can enlighten me.”
My hand freezes in mid-air to my mouth. My wineglass hovers in outer space and I stare at him blankly.
Shit, of course, how did I not see this coming?
I’ve been so preoccupied with Ryan and anticipating Blake’s bombshell that Charles has caught me completely off guard.
Lifting my eyes from the napkin in my lap, I stare at everyone seated around the table. Their faces are all composed with polite small smiles which I’m sure is a result of years of social gracing. I can’t take the facade of it all.
I can’t believe he betrayed me.
I stand so suddenly my chair flies back and hits the wall behind me. Before I can stop myself, the words pour out of my mouth, “She quit because your son’s gay.”
Lila gasps covering her mouth in horror at my audacity. Evan frowns and mutters under his breath. Blake turns deathly pale. Charles stares hard at me, and I can’t take it.
Ryan jolts up and grabs my arm, “Vanessa, how could you?”
“No, how could you?” I scream at him.
Yanking my arm out of his grasp, I pick up his glass of wine, down it all and slam it back down on the table so hard it shatters.
Grabbing my clutch, I run out of the room not waiting to see the chaos I’ve created. Breathless, I reach the curb. Outside the night is alive with activity. I hail a cab and give Ryan’s address. Before I can slam the door, he is there. Completely furious. His left cheek ticks in anger and his jaw clenches. His fingers are white they are gripping the door so hard.
“Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Get out now, and stop acting like an idiot. Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? It wasn’t your place, or your call, Vanessa. You stole it from him.”
I don’t budge, matching his glare I stare out at him from inside the safety of the small cab.
“Vanessa, I’m giving you a choice right now. Go back in there and apologize to Blake and Charles or we’re done. It’s over.”
“I’m not a little child you can just order around,” I scream.
“Then stop acting like one.”
The plastic from the seat sticks to my sweaty legs and I make my choice.
“Drive,” I yell to the cabbie.
The city passes in a blur and then it resonates.
Holy shit, I just outed Blake Foster. And it cost me everything.
The cab driver drops me off in front of Ryan’s Brownstone. Slumping down on the front stoop, I’m completely shell shocked. Cupping my chin in my hands, I look back at our short history. Maybe it was always destined to end this way.
Opening my clutch, I finger the key to Ryan’s apartment. He just gave it to me and now I need to use it for the first time to get my bags and leave. Swiping my phone’s screen, I tap the screen finding TJ’s number.
“Hey, Vanessa, how did it go? I’ve been waiting all night to hear how Charles would react.”
“Umm, I’m not sure.”
“What? Blake couldn’t do it?”
“Not exactly.”
“So, what happened?”
“I did it. I outed him.”
“What?” TJ screams into the phone.
“I know it’s bad. I wasn’t thinking. I feel like this entire night was happening to somebody else, like I was having an out-of-body experience or something. I can’t get into it right now but, TJ, where do I go? What should I do? Ry is furious. He basically dumped me on the spot. I can’t stay here, and my parents—I can’t face them. I need space.”
“Go to Mel’s. Call her. I’ll meet you there.”
“Thanks, TJ. I’m so glad that I still have you.”
“Always.”
I hang up and text Mel, knowing she’ll take me in. Sighing, I get up and place the key in the lock.
It doesn’t take me long to pack. But I sit on his bed for a good ten minutes. Hoping. But he doesn’t call or race after me. I was hoping he would fight for me, his girlfriend of seventy-seven days. But I know his years of friendship with Blake are something I can never compete with.
We were as good as we were bad for each other. He should’ve trusted or confided in me about the possibility he would get promoted and move. But he couldn’t, he didn’t. And that is more telling than anything. I pick up his pillow, inhale the smell of him on it, and cry. What have I done?
I finish shoving my hairdryer and makeup case into my bag, hoisting it over my shoulder. Through my tears, I take one last look around. Opening his door, I lock up and drop his key through the mail slot. I wobble in my heels trying to balance walking on the uneven cobblestone street. My heel catches and I scream when my palms scrape the stone road.
I sit in defeat before slowly standing. My beautiful Chanel gown is streaked with dirt and I’m pathetic. Finally reaching my car, I take off my heels and chuck them inside. Whipping my hair back into a bun, I run a finger under each eye. My mini breakdown is catching a lot of attention on this usually quiet street.
“What? You’ve never had a bad break up?” I yell, peeling out in my MINI. The sound of the screeching tires gathers more attention. Good, I’ve left a mark of burned rubber behind. It’s the only sign that I was even here.
“So you just sat there and blurted it out?
I nod my head weakly, and sniffle into the tissue in my hand.
“Holy shit. Vanessa, you’ve got balls, girl.” His eyes are wide and he rakes a hand through his hair, shaking his head at me.
“Vanessa, I know you were shocked and upset by Ryan’s news but you are better than that. You need to call Blake and apologize. His secret was too big—the relationship with his father too important. You really screwed up, hon.”
“I know, Mel. I just lost it. I don’t even recognize myself. I feel s
o ugly—so mean.”
“Well, I would give it some time. I wouldn’t call tonight,” she tells me.
“At least send a text,” TJ suggests.
“That couldn’t hurt,” Mel replies, gently stroking my back. We are sitting out on her deck by the outdoor glass fire pit. I stare at the crystals burning and burning. The smokeless flame mesmerizes me and focusing on it helps calm my nerves. In a trance-like state, I pull out my phone and send Blake a short text:
Sorry, I’m so sorry.
I place my phone down as Aunt Mel hands me a glass of wine.
“To calm your nerves,” she says.
I take a small sip and smile through my tears at a memory, “Is this an Australian Riesling?”
“It’s whatever was on sale at Clements’s Market,” she laughs, sitting down next to me.
“TJ, have you told your mom yet about being bi?”
“Yes, I did. I figured with Blake coming out, I might as well. She was very supportive and said that she loves me no matter whom I love.”
He blushes and for the first time I notice how relaxed he is.
“She’s encouraging me to go back to school. I’ve been thinking about teaching or becoming a counselor. I want to help kids out, kids who are like me and Blake; confused and not knowing who to talk to. Or why they are having feelings that they can’t control,” he finishes, swiping a tear.
“TJ, that’s perfect. You’ve always been a great listener and friend. You’d be the best counselor, I just know it.”
He beams with pride, and I see the hope and joy light up in him. I’m so happy he has found a way to move forward with everything in his life.
“Thanks, Vanessa. I’m going to apply to a few graduate schools this week. I’m looking at Wesleyan and URI.”
“If you get into URI, you’re welcome to come here anytime, TJ.”
“Thanks, Mel.”
My phone rings and we all freeze. I look at the screen, “It’s Ryan,” I say excitedly. Frantically swiping the screen, I take his call.