by Kelly Wood
The next guy up could sing. He belted out Bon Jovi’s hit Wanted Dead or Alive, even the band members were enjoying the song. Together they were all putting on a great show. The lead guitarist had his eyes closed, his guitar pressed up against him, and his leg kept time with the music. He could feel the music. I was transfixed staring at him.
“Should I be jealous?” Gray whispered in my ear. “You haven’t stopped staring.”
“I think I know him. He looks so familiar. But . . . different. I can’t place it.” Gray leaned back in his chair again, draping his arm over the back of mine. My heart pitter-pattered with excitement. This really could be our first date with the giddiness and excitement I was feeling. I wanted to focus on him and him alone. Just like Jax was doing with—
I looked at the guitar player again. He had dark, slightly curly hair. It was disheveled in a devil-may-care attitude. Both his arms had tattooed sleeves. His t-shirt was a throwback to a nineties band, and the jeans had seen better days. I ignored all of that and pictured him with his hair combed, wearing a suit. He looked familiar because he was. He was the detective working Anya’s case, AKA Jax’s new love interest. AKA a guitar player for Live Band Karaoke. AKA Ben’s friend. Sheesh, this guy was everywhere.
I scanned the crowd for Jax. I knew her. When she first met someone, she was all in. She would be here somewhere supporting her new man. I spotted the back of her blonde head at a small table in front of the stage. I couldn’t see her face, but I could imagine the look of pure lust. She had managed to snag a man who wore a suit by day and tattoos by night. It was the perfect combination of wild and tamed that Jax needed.
I excused myself from Gray and headed to the front. I put my mouth close to Jax’s ear before speaking. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding for the past few days.” Jax startled at the sound of my voice. She was so lost in lust toward the stage, she hadn’t heard me approach.
“Regan!” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here? You are supposed to be on a date.” The sound of Peter’s voice startled me. “I was on my way back from the bathroom and spotted you talking to Jax. Thought I’d sneak up on you.” He kissed my temple in greeting.
“What date?” Jax asked.
“I am on a date.” I pointed to the table in the back with Gray. Peter spotted Gray but didn’t inquire about how this came about. They joined us at our table. The four of us hadn’t been together in a long time. Jax greeted Gray with a warm hug before Peter and Gray did the man-hug-back-slap thing. I watched them as they talked for a minute. I couldn’t hear their words over the music, but I could see their body language.
Peter and Gray were clearly happy to see each other, but it wasn’t the greeting of friends separated by months. It was quick. A greeting of acknowledgment more than anything. I moved over to stand between them. I craned my neck up to see their faces, both were so much taller than me.
“You’ve seen each other already.” It was an accusation aimed at both of them. They looked down at me.
“Regan, how do you think Gray knew where you were tonight?” The confusion must have been evident on my face because Gray took up where Peter had left off.
“I stopped at the pub to see you. Peter told me you were down the street having pizza.” Gray’s eyes moved from me to Peter. “He left out the part where you were on a date.”
“It wasn’t a date. Did Peter also leave out that I made a bad deal with him, and was forced to go?”
Gray chuckled. “Not in so many words. Peter did mention that he was teaching you a lesson.” I turned back to the table. I actually wasn’t irritated with either of them. I was glad Peter told Gray where to find me. It set us on the path to speaking again.
The band took a break while we were chatting. Jax and her beau were now nuzzled together at our table. I finally got a proper introduction, as did Gray. Liam McMurray was a thirty-two-year-old detective with the Chicago PD. And, apparently, a musician. Liam seemed nice enough. Whatever that meant. Nice enough for what? For my friend? For a detective? For now? Probably, for now. Nice enough until I decided otherwise.
Jax seemed pretty smitten, as did Liam. They smiled and flirted, always staying close to one another’s side when he was not playing. Gray and I flirted, too, but stayed on the surface of conversations. At one point he held my hand under the table. I got the same thrill and butterflies like it was actually the first time he had held my hand. My giddy school girl emerged again.
Overall, the night was winding up much better than anticipated. The five of us stayed until the last song was played. We walked out together and stood on the sidewalk outside of Wrigley Field chatting and saying goodnight. Jax and Liam left first. Gray walked Peter and me home before heading to the Red Line, and ultimately a friend’s sofa.
I watched Gray as he headed back to Addison. Emotions warred inside of me. I felt elated from the ‘first date,’ but still cautious as to what was to come. Peter broke me out of my reverie.
“Sit with me for a moment, Regan.” He patted the stair next to him after sitting down himself.
“I don’t like the sound of this.”
“You won’t like anything I’m about to tell you.” Peter clasped his hands in front of him. His elbows rested on his knees. “I hate every time I have to say this out loud. Fortunately for me, my mother hasn’t allowed me to tell very many people.”
I sat next to him, skootching over until our sides were pressed together. I told myself it was to support him, but I think I was lying. I needed the support, the contact too, to hear it. Whatever ‘it’ was. I held my breath in anticipation.
“I’m just going to say it. No reason to sugarcoat it.”
“Stop beating around the bush, then and spit it out.” I nudged his shoulder with mine, letting the air escape my lungs.
“She has cancer and only three to nine months to live.”
“Three to nine months? That’s . . . that’s by the end of the year. Or sooner. How long have you known?” I swiveled on the stair to look at him. “How long, Peter?”
“Four months.” I didn’t reply because I knew he could feel my anger. Four months and this is the first I’d heard about it. I’d vacationed with his family. I’d lived with him, on and off, over the years. I’d spent holidays with them over my own family. “You should’ve said something.”
“I was following her wishes, Regan. Her dying wishes.”
“Still. I could’ve—”
“You could’ve what?” His tone was harsh, brittle. “Nothing. That’s what.” His voice softened as he went on, “She’s not seeking treatment. She’s ready to ‘face her maker’ as she says.”
“Why tell me now, then?”
“Because she wanted me to. She wants one last dinner together. Her way.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night. Here.” I wasn’t finished processing the information, not by a long shot. But, ultimately, it wasn’t about me.
“Then, I guess that’s what we give her.”
Chapter Sixteen
"Go upstairs, put on a dress and do something with your hair." Peter held my arms out, inspecting my attire for the day. I’d only been back at his condo for thirty seconds, and he was already making me move again. I spent the day at the restaurant, being him. So, he could spend today at home preparing for his mother’s last meal. Not literal one, I hoped.
"Okay, bossy, why?" I looked down at my ripped jeans and tank top. Some days you just had to dress for comfort.
"We’re going to have a dinner party!" Peter said, clapping his hands in excitement. I looked behind him, noticing the people in his kitchen.
"Who are they? I thought this was supposed to be a family affair?" I asked.
“Nope. Mother wants a din-ner-par-tay. Dresses, makeup, heels, the works.” Peter straightened photographs and made micro adjustments to already perfect trinkets while talking. "I hired a service that specializes in private dinner parties. It�
��s great. They provide a chef, server and bartender for us, that way we can just focus on. . . everything else. They’ll even do the clean-up."
"Of course, you hired people.” Peter shushed me and nudged me in the direction of my room. “Okay, I'm going, I'm going." I trudged up the stairs.
Thirty minutes later, I was back wearing a sleeveless black dress and sparkly heels. Twenty-eight of those minutes were spent curling my hair, but it was worth it. I felt pretty.
Anais and Peter were sitting in the game room drinking wine. A twenty-something guy was standing behind the bar, wearing a white tuxedo shirt and bow tie. He even had the retro black armband. I was sure there was an official name for it, but I didn’t know it.
"Don't you look pretty? Now," Peter said, as he kissed my cheek. He looked fabulous in gray dress pants and a white dress shirt.
"Just now? I'll take it,” I asked Peter before turning to the bartender to ask for a red wine. I didn’t have to ask what Peter had available. I knew from previous experience he would stock any of his guests’ preferences.
"How did you put this together so quickly? The room looks amazing." The lights were dimmed, and candles were lit on every exposed surface. A musician had set up in the corner, playing soft jazz on a keyboard.
"It’s so romantic," I said.
"Romance is in his blood, dear. He is half French," Anais said.
Anais was looking her usual royal self. She was wearing a black dress, black tights and sensible black heels. Her hair was pulled back in its customary French twist. I couldn’t help but wonder, how many black dresses does she own? Now that Peter had told me about her illness, I could see what I had been ignoring before. Her dress was slightly baggy on her thinning frame. Her hair, while still beautiful, wasn’t quite as thick and full as before. There was a slight tremor in her hand as she reached for her glass of wine.
"Anais, you look beautiful." I leaned in to kiss her cheek.
"Anyone can, darling, with a little effort. Your generation just favors sloppy clothes," Anais replied. I chuckled because she was right. My generation and younger tended toward the ripped, baggy, tight, small, ill-fitting, the list went on. There was something to be said for wearing clothes that fit well. I didn’t know what it was, but it was probably something nice.
Peter left us to go down and answer the door. Guests were starting to arrive. I never asked who Anais wanted at her party because I thought I knew the answer. I was only half correct. I guessed well on Jax and me, but had completely missed the mark when Liam walked up the stairs behind Jax. I didn’t even have time to process Liam being here for a family dinner when Gray and Ben arrived. Welcome to the Twilight Zone. Gray kissed Anais and me hello before making the rounds. Ben nodded an acknowledgment to me but didn’t come near.
“I thought this was a family thing?” I asked Anais. We had a moment to ourselves in the corner.
“I don’t know why you would think that.”
“Because Peter said it.”
“I said, she wants one last dinner together. Her way. This is the ‘her way’ part,” Peter said as he walked up. “You just assumed it would be family.” Peter left again just as quickly when the doorbell chimed.
“But, why everyone else?”
“For the entertainment, dear. I’m not leaving this earth with a boring dinner. I want fireworks. Sparks. Dynamite.”
“What better way than with new loves, old loves and lost loves?” I asked.
“And missed loves. Although, I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Anais raised her glass to mine. The ping of the cheers echoed off the rims.
Peter returned with our last guest. Seth. Ah, missed loves. It clicked into place. Seth had a crush on me when he first started working for Peter. This night was shaping up into a bad seventies version of the Dating Game.
“I get the others, based on your mother’s theme, but why Jax and Liam?” I asked Peter.
“Two reasons.” He tossed an aperitif into his mouth. I was momentarily distracted by the food. I didn’t know how I had missed the first pass. “One, as you know, in my opinion, all dinner parties should have eight guests, no more, no less.”
“And the second?”
“Mother wanted Jax here. You are both like daughters to her.”
“Hence, refer back to dinner party size. Jax alone would only be seven people.” I could actually follow his weird logic. Eight was the perfect size for dinner. Large enough for people to break into small groups and socialize, but small enough for one conversation when seated at a table.
I sidled up to Gray and slipped my hand into his. I planned to stay that way until we sat for dinner. Once we sat, I would solely focus on the food. Above all else, Peter never allowed for subpar meals. I chatted with Jax and Liam. I had upgraded him from ‘nice enough’ to just nice. We’d see if he continued on this upward journey. Seth, Ben, and Peter entertained Anais, giving her due as hostess with the most-est. When dinner was called the atmosphere was relaxed.
We dined on the rooftop deck patio. The table was covered with a white tablecloth. Votives in silver holders and fresh flowers adorned the table. It was casual yet elegant all in one. White China with silver etchings marked each place setting while an engraved envelope bearing each guest’s name sat on top. Inside the envelope was a dinner course list with the accompanying wine. Peter never missed a detail.
We spent the first twenty minutes oohing and aahing over the food and atmosphere. It was eighty degrees outside. This weather was spoiling me. Along with the candles on the table, tiny white lights were woven into the railing and it gave off a soft glow. Even the hot tub was decorated. The cover had been removed. A soft light shone from the bottom, illuminating the water where flowers floated freely on the surface. The only aspect of the setting that wasn’t controlled was the background noise. Instead of soft jazz, we heard the Cubs game being played a block away. Personally, I loved it all.
The conversation flowed easily as the courses were delivered. Surprisingly, considering the mix of guests, but food could always bring the most diverse crowds together. I’d seen it repeatedly happen in the restaurant. The food itself ranged from one-bite samples, to soup, to kangaroo, to ostrich, to steak. It was all marvelous. For dessert, we were served chocolate cake and port wine.
As we sat picking at our desserts, Anais stood at the head of the table to draw our attention her way. She had that kind of power. She wanted all of our attention on her, and just by standing, she garnered it. I would’ve had to bang my fork against my glass, wave my arms in the air, and yell, “Hello!” Some people were born with a natural grace and class while others were not.
“I want to thank you all for coming this evening. It was a splendid dinner.” Anais nodded to the waiter standing in the shadows. “Some of you know why you have been invited while others may be in the dark. A few of you, I have the pleasure of having a personal relationship with. Peter, I love you. You know this is true. I only wanted you to hear it again.” Anais placed her hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
“Regan, Jax, I love you both like daughters. Along with Peter, the four of us have made a family together. Albeit, a dysfunctional one at times, but a family nonetheless. Jax,” Anais turned her attention to Jax, “you are gifted. Never stop painting. Give it your heart.”
Jax had struggled over the years on whether or not her art was ‘good enough.’ Those dreaded words again. As far as I knew, Anais had never said one word about Jax’s art. For the good or bad.
“But it is time to stop acting like a floozy. It’s time to settle down.” Anais looked at Liam and Jax before shifting her attention again. This time to Gray.
“Gray, you are truly a gentleman in a sea of boys. You are a throwback to a previous generation in kindness, giving and strength. Any woman,” Anais shifted her focus to me, “would be blessed to have you by their side.” Point taken. Thanks, Anais. “Regan,” I looked up, but Anais was still focused on Gray, “is childish, stubborn, flighty and I lov
e her. You would be a fool not to overlook her flaws to see the woman she will one day be.”
My temper flared at the jabs but simmered back down quickly. I was flighty and bratty at times. I was well aware of my flaws. Thanks Anais for announcing them, though.
“Regan.” Oh great, my turn. I met her eyes. “Everything I just said is correct, and you are smart enough to realize your lacking characteristics. But, somehow, dear, you are not smart enough to realize the gift standing in front of you. Stop with the sour behavior, apologize to Gray, never stop until he forgives you. Then, get your butt down that aisle. Walk — no, run — as fast as you can toward him. A gift like this only comes around once in a lifetime.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gray reached under the table to find my hand. Our fingers intertwined and locked together.
“You’re getting married?” Ben asked. A look of confusion on his face.
“Seth, you have become indispensable to the pub. I cannot say how truly blessed we are to have you by our sides. I hope and pray you continue to help Peter long after I am gone.” Seth’s eyes glistened in the dim lighting. Praise coming from Anais herself and in front of people may have been too much for him.
“Now, this just leaves Liam and Ben. Liam, you are here tonight for two reasons. One, to escort Jax. From what I have seen, she adores you.” Jax looked stricken as Anais spoke. “I know your generation likes to pretend to keep things casual, that actual feelings are something to be overlooked, but your generation could use a lesson in love. Liam, I married my husband after six days. He was, by far, the greatest gift God gave me on this earth. When you know, you know. Jax, wipe that look off your face. A blind man could see the sparks shooting between the two of you.” Anais paused, looking down at the table for a moment before speaking. “The other reason I asked for you here tonight has to do with Ben.” Ben’s head snapped up at the sound of his name.
“Ben, you play the nice guy. You say the right words. You wear the right clothes, but you are not a nice man. I have seen you with Anya. I know that you were not friends. Should I share what else I know?”