Come Undone

by Jessica Hawkins

  Lucy agreed readily – she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life and was ready to go the distance. She listed off some ideas, all of which I’d heard before, but I took notes anyway. “Come over this weekend,” I said, turning my attention to Gretchen. “We can work on invitations as we plan. Gretchen and Olivia’s Party Planning Service.”

  “I’ll bring muffins,” Gretchen agreed.

  “And Luce, send over Andrew’s contacts,” I added, realizing that I barely knew any of Andrew’s non-mutual friends.

  Right then, my phone pinged with Bill’s response.

  Apr 2, 2012 8:20 PM

  Out front

  “Ride’s here,” I said. “Gotta run. You guys need a lift?”

  “I’m meeting up with people.”

  “K. Luce?” She shook her head. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Congratulations,” I said into her hair.

  A cool blast hit me as I stepped outside. Bill’s silhouette leaned over the seat to open the door, and I was greeted with Robert Smith’s melancholy voice. His mood could usually be determined by his choice of music. The Cure meant brooding in our house.

  “Babe?” I asked.

  “If you’re going out, why can’t you get the train home?” he asked.

  “You could’ve said no,” I pointed out. I thought about how he used to love driving me around, because it meant a little extra time together. I glanced over in the darkness and wondered if he was remembering the same thing. “Next time I’ll take the ‘L’.”

  “These brakes are done,” he muttered. “I have to take the car in again.”

  “We could get a new one,” I suggested for the third time since January. “Maybe my dad’s Shelby?”

  “Why? This one runs fine.”

  “It’s old, Bill. It’s not like we can’t afford a new one.”

  “We can’t afford - ”

  “All right, maybe not the Shelby, but something else. Just because it works – like your mother’s couch – doesn’t mean it’s the best option.”

  “Liv, we don’t need the Shelby. It’s not practical.” He grunted and after a moment, slammed his fists into the steering wheel. “Come on! This isn’t goddamn rush hour, what is the hold up?”

  Ignoring his outburst, I excitedly told him about Lucy and Andrew’s engagement. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and I knew his resolve was beginning to chip. “That’s great,” he said. “They make a great couple.”

  “They really do,” I agreed, looking out the window. Yellow street lamps and dark shadows blurred together as we picked up pace.

  CHAPTER 4

  GRETCHEN AND I SAT AT MY KITCHEN TABLE, laptops open and address books splayed out, while we sipped two cups of coffee on Saturday morning. She’d had invitations made during the week, and Andrew had e-mailed me his contact list, agreeing to not only host the party at their place, but foot the bill as well. That meant it was an expense I wouldn’t have to argue over with Bill. Gretchen addressed envelopes as I, in my sweats, absentmindedly blew on my drink, leaning my hip against the counter. I stared at the studied handwriting of my stack of invitations, pleased with the outcome.

  “What is this, the break room?” Gretchen interrupted my daze. “Back to work. Where’s Bill anyway?” she asked abruptly, as though she’d just noticed his absence.

  “Basketball. Andrew’s started playing with them, and I think they’re getting pretty chummy.”

  “Oh,” she replied, coiling a roll of stamps around her finger. And then, “Do you guys do it on this table?”

  I nearly spit out my coffee as I burst into laughter. “No!” I exclaimed, giving her a reproachful look. “But actually, I could use some sordid stories in my life. Spill.”

  “I went out with that guy Rick from the ballet a few times, but that’s about it right now.”

  “Oh my God! I forgot to tell you!”

  She cocked an eyebrow at me. “What?”

  “I ran into him last weekend when I was walking one of the dogs from the shelter. For one, he told me you wouldn’t call him back.”

  “Nah. He’s sorta whack.”

  “Um, k, he seems nice. Anyway, he was interested in the dog I was walking, Eureka, and I just found out that he adopted her.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet. Now I feel bad about not calling him back.”

  “Well you can’t now, what if you end up together? I’d never be able to forget how you called him whack.”

  “All right, for your sake, I’ll leave it be.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “There is something else, though,” she said hesitantly.

  “Spill,” I demanded again, alarmed at the nervous look on her face.

  “I got a message from Greg the other night.”

  “What?” I said, dropping my pen onto the table. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t know how to feel about it. I still don’t.”

  “What did it say?”

  “To call him.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you?”

  She shook her head vigorously, blonde wisps escaping from the bun on top of her head. I had flashbacks to the apartment Lucy and I had shared at Notre Dame, where the three of us would sit at that kitchen table talking about Greg.

  During our first class of Introductory Biology, Greg and I were the only people who seemed to notice how crazy the professor was. We’d looked at each other across the room and made the same face. We became fast friends and turned out to be dorm neighbors too. He, Lucy and I would discuss lectures over cold pizza in the dining hall or stay up late drinking Kahlua hot chocolates under the fleece Fighting Irish blanket my dad had sent me. He was smart and charming, and I was proud to call him a friend.

  He and Gretchen grew to know each other over the weekends that she would visit me from Chicago. They didn’t make it official until junior year, but I had instantly seen how compatible they were.

  When smart and charming Greg mercilessly broke up with Gretchen two days before graduation, he wounded all of us: me, Lucy, her boyfriend at the time and the rest of our tight-knit college family. He’d told us that he’d accepted a job in Japan, an offer we’d heard nothing about, and that he was moving to start a new life. I knew he was afraid of how intense things had become with Gretchen, and I tried to get her to see that too. She spent the weeks following graduation wallowing at her parents’ house, accepting little comfort. When she emerged, it was to sign the lease on our new apartment and she never mentioned his name again. Until now.

  “Wow,” I said softly. “Aren’t you curious about what he has to say?”

  She widened her eyes at me and shook her head again. “It’s done,” she said with finality. We both jumped a second later when her phone vibrated against the wooden table. We exchanged a wary glance before she peeked at it without touching, as though it might bite.

  “It’s just John,” she said exhaling. “Hey,” she answered. “Yep that’s fine, just send me – uh huh, okay – just send me the file, and I’ll look it over.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “Maybe he ought to hire a capable secretary instead of bugging me to edit his press releases. Nothing, just talking to Liv.” She paused. “Sure, hang on.” She held the phone out to me.

  “Hi, John.”

  “Hi, beautiful. I miss you.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “I miss you too,” I said. “How come you never visit your lovely sister and her awesome friends?”

  “Just say the word, Germaine, and I’m there.” I laughed loudly and Gretchen, all too familiar with her brother’s penchant for flirting, rolled her eyes. “How are you? Really?”

  “Hangin’ in there,” I said.

  “Don’t say that, you know I hate it.”

  “All right, I’m great, better than ever.”

  “Hmm,” he said thoughtfully. “No good. I want you to be happy, but not too happy, at least not ‘til we get together.” I shook my head and reddened. Our conversatio
ns always went that way, but he still had the ability to make me blush. “Is Bill taking care of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And work?”

  “Good. I’m up for a promotion, in fact. Speaking of work, I hear you have a new - ” I stopped myself as Gretchen slapped my arm. “Er, new stapler.”

  “Ha. Gretch told you. I do, I have a new girl. But quit trying to change the subject. Tell me something about your life that’s not in the public domain.”

  “I don’t really have much going on right now.”

  “Come on, you’re holding out on me.”

  “Oh, I know, Bill and I - ”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m married, John, I hardly have a life of my own. Okay how about this - I’m going to ask my dad for the Shelby. Bill doesn’t know though,” I added, looking at Gretchen.

  “The ‘68? Livs, you spoiled brat. You always get what you want, ever since we were kids. That car is a trip. You’d look hot in it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m giving you back to your sister.”

  “Wait, Liv,” he said, a little more seriously. “I’m glad you’re doing well. Next time I want something juicier though.”

  “Deal,” I promised. “Here’s your sister.”

  “I didn’t hear your side of the conversation bro,” Gretchen started, “but Liv here is as red as that Shelby. You’re lucky Bill’s not around to see this.” I threw a piece of muffin at her and then immediately went to pick it up before turning my attention back to the invitations.

  CHAPTER 5

  TO MY SURPRISE, the engagement party was a huge success. It boasted a fine crowd that was neither too small nor too big. Guests brought tastefully wrapped gifts, which slid off of manicured fingertips and onto a glass dining table. Their River North apartment was the perfect backdrop to the upscale crowd. Snow-white plush carpet spanned the living room where guests congregated, and I idly wondered how Lucy kept it so pristine. Her spotless nature was enviable – she seemed to repel mess. Large windows framed Chicago’s dotted skyline while dim lighting illuminated the overstuffed white leather couches, a sleeping fireplace and a well-stocked bar.

  I waved at Jack, a work acquaintance I had hired as bartender for the night. He gave me a wink, expertly pouring a martini into the empty glass of Lucy’s middle-aged colleague as she watched, rapt.

  In the nearest window, I caught the reflection of my very fitted white dress that dipped just off my shoulders. Reluctantly, I decided to avoid the dessert table for the night. I peered out at the starless sky before turning slightly to marvel at the guests. It was easy to go unnoticed in this crowd. Despite Lucy and Andrew’s high society social circle, I was mildly dissatisfied with the company, overhearing tidbits here and there of the same old fodder. A tap on my bare shoulder caused me to start.

  “Just a little something for the party planner.” Jack held out a red wine garnished with a dashing smile.

  “Oh, well, this is exactly what I need,” I said, smiling. “How did you know?”

  “Bartender’s sixth sense,” he said, placing a cold hand on my shoulder. I bit the inside of my cheek, and as politely as possible, shrugged out from under him. Turning back for the bar, he said, “Come find me later.” I agreed and brought the wine to my lips, instantly spilling some on the front of my dress.

  In the kitchen, I cursed my clumsiness as I threw open the cupboards. Once I found a towel, I flipped on the faucet and wet it. When I turned from the sink, a small white hand towel pressed against the impurity on my breast, my gaze fell familiarly on those hooded eyes from the theater. The flush instantly returned and I was back there, as if no time had passed, frozen. I racked my brain; had we invited him? I didn’t know; couldn’t know. I had no idea who he was.

  He flattened his hands on the surface of the island and jutted his hips out behind him. “Tell me your name.” His thick voice was my desire manifested. Words stuck in my mouth, choking me. It never occurred to me to question the intensity of his question, the urgency in his voice. “What’s your fucking name?” It wasn’t malicious, but pleading.

  “Olivia,” I replied levelly, not recognizing my own voice.

  “Olivia,” he repeated, momentarily satisfied. He reached a long arm over the island and placed his hand over my mine – the one that held, now clutched, the towel. Goosebumps lighted over my body at the contact, and I shuddered slightly. He took it from me, and I dropped my hand as he rounded the island, his eyes never leaving mine. Before I realized what was happening, he was there with the damp towel in his hand, pressed against my breast. “Olivia,” he said softly. “I’m desperate to know you.”

  My lashes fluttered underneath him. I’d remembered his eyes as dark, but they were an indisputable light chestnut brown, intensified a thousand times by his jet black, bushy eyebrows. Their golden-brown color misaligned with his mysteriousness, almost painting him as divine-like. His freshly shaven jawline was angular and ended with a cleft chin, the only soft curve among otherwise chiseled features.

  I tore my eyes from his gaze and looked down, swallowing so I might say something. I didn’t quite know if I should protest his brazen approach, or if I should listen to my body and move against him. Before I had a chance to respond though, Bill’s laugh floated in from the other room. I half-leaped back to the sink as he blew through the door with a leftover smile from his boisterous guffaw. He did not even notice the man, but came straight to me at the sink and linked his arm around my waist, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

  “Livs,” he exclaimed. “Hugh insists the Bulls are headed toward defeat so I had to set him straight.” His loud voice carried back into the party.

  “Your husband is this close to betting your down payment on the playoffs,” Hugh called from the other room, “and I can’t say I haven’t warned him.” I forced a small laugh for Bill while my insides turned over, and my heart fluttered like a trapped butterfly.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “I just came for the sweets.” He smiled, just for me, and placed an oversized cupcake into a red napkin. Once he’d left, I glanced back at the man who’d never stopped watching me. His eyes slowly traveled the length of my left arm until they rested on my hand. I only had a moment to try and comprehend his fallen expression before I heard footsteps again. I moved around the island, distancing myself from his spell just as Andrew waltzed into the kitchen.

  “Liv, where’ve you been?” he asked, just as he noticed the mystery man whose face, I thought, revealed too much. “Ah, David. Got it. Always one with the ladies.” Andrew laughed casually, nodding toward the man.

  David, I thought. A common name; nothing out of the ordinary. But now I repeated it to myself behind sealed lips, as though it were the first time.

  “Actually, we’ve not yet met,” David said coolly, and I turned to glare at him. He was calm and unperturbed, as if everything were normal. Slowly, he scrunched up the sleeves of his black V-neck pullover and rolled up the cuffs of the white button down underneath.

  I, on the other hand, had been startled into silence. I did my best to mimic his relaxed stance, loosening my shoulders and releasing my death grip on the counter. He continued, “I was just . . . getting her a towel. She seems to have spilled something on herself.”

  “I see, well Liv, this is David,” he introduced. “He’s the lead architect on our new office building in the Loop. And I hope if I hang around him enough, some of his charm will rub off.” He winked at me. “The ladies in my office can’t get enough of the guy,” he added, pulsing his eyebrows at David. “You usually have your hands full, though. No date tonight?”

  David let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Andrew just shrugged. He was always so nonchalant; his feathers rarely ruffled. He reminded me of Bill in that sense. Bill didn’t anger easily, but when he did, it was explosive. I wondered, watching Andrew’s easy smile, if he was the same.

  My tongue shot into my cheek as I returned to studying D
avid. He must have women falling all over him. I cringed, chastising myself for letting someone like him affect me. Someone who was that confident, someone who could relax on command and who was that smoldering – someone like that knew what he was doing. And was only interested in one thing. Someone like him, I thought, must have it so easy.

  “Well,” I interjected curtly, having returned to myself, who was a little indignant. “Looks like I’m all cleaned up. Andrew, where’s Lucy? I’ve hardly seen her tonight.” I stepped backwards, distancing myself from him. “David,” I faltered for a split second, so that only someone watching closely would have noticed. “Nice to meet you.”

  With that I turned and strode back into the party. I found Lucy within the next couple steps, despite the fact that I’d barely talked her at all.

  “Livs,” she said, touching my arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, Luce!” My voice came out high-pitched and unnatural. “What a party. Professional planners?” I teased as I crinkled my nose.

  Gretchen, who apparently had been keeping Jack company, saw us and ran over.

  “You guys are amazing,” Lucy said, looking from one to the other. “Thank you for doing this.” Just then an impeccably-timed server passed with a tray of bubbling champagne. Following Gretchen’s lead, we held up our glasses to each other.

  “To you, Lucy, and your fiancé,” - Lucy smiled at the word – “all the best!” We each took a giddy sip.

  “Who is that?” Gretchen asked suddenly, but I didn’t need to turn to know. Lucy sought out Gretchen’s mystery man and nodded knowingly when her eyes fixated behind me.

  “That’s David,” Lucy stated. “He’s doing work for Andrew’s firm and they’ve bonded over sailing.” Noticing Gretchen’s raised eyebrows she said, “I know.”

  “Sailing?” I asked.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” She pushed me with her fingertips. “Andrew wants to get a boat.”

  “He is just . . .” Gretchen trailed off, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. A deceptively innocent smile touched her lips as she seemed to make eye contact with him. He breezed by the three of us with Lucy and Gretchen’s eyes conspicuously on him, and I was incensed that he might think we were talking about him. “Look at that ass,” Gretchen commented, her mouth twisting into an appreciative smirk.