by Sara Mack
“I’m so glad you could make it!” Mrs. Randall appears, wearing an apron. She hugs my mother and then me, taking me by surprise. “I was thrilled when Matt told me he had run into you at the golf course!”
“Thanks for having us,” my mother smiles at her. “Where would you like the food?”
“Oh, I’ll take it,” Mrs. Randall says, taking the salad. “Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable. Dan’s firing up the grill as we speak. There are drinks at the bar,” she nods toward the patio.
“Thanks,” we all say.
Mrs. Randall gets distracted as more guests arrive and starts to walk away. “I’ll be busy until the food’s ready, but I hope we get a chance to catch up!” she says over her shoulder.
We head to the bar. I make things easy and grab a bottle of lemonade. I spy a grouping of empty chairs and head that way. “I’ll be over there,” I tell Shel.
I plop down in one of the lounges and prop my feet up. The sun is shining and it warms me. I take a drink of lemonade and close my eyes. I could get used to this minus all these people.
I sense Shel arrive and sit down on the lounge next to me. I open my eyes and squint at her. “What’d you get?”
“Margarita.”
We sit in the sun, sipping our drinks. It’s a fun and friendly atmosphere, although I don’t recognize many people. I notice my parents talking with someone across the yard by the fire pit. Soon I start to smell meat cooking on the grill and my stomach growls.
“Whoa! Was that you?” Shel asks.
I pat my belly. “Yep.”
Within minutes Shel’s stomach growls just as loud. We burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Matt asks as he walks up behind us.
“Our stomachs are talking to each other,” Shel explains and swings her feet off the lounge so he can sit.
“That looks good,” he says to Shel and takes her drink from her hand. “What is it?” he asks as he tastes it.
“Margarita. A strong one. Who’s your bartender?”
Matt laughs. “My uncle Al. You might want to take it easy with those.” He hands Shel’s drink back to her and looks at me. “What have you got?”
I hold up my bottle. “Lemonade, straight up.”
“Ah. Living on the edge, I see,” he smiles.
I notice people making their way toward the tent with plates. “Must be time to eat,” I say and stand. “I’m starving.”
Shel looks at me with wide eyes. “Really?”
I give her an exasperated look. “Yes, really.”
“I’m starving too,” Matt says. “Let’s go before everything’s gone.”
We make our way to the buffet table and fill our plates. We return to the lounges to eat instead of heading to the crowded tent. Shel and Matt carry on effortless conversation as usual; I concentrate on my barbeque ribs. They’re delicious.
After we finish, Shel gets another margarita. She and Matt decide to play a game of horseshoes with a couple of Matt’s cousins while I watch from a nearby hammock. Everyone is so carefree; it feels nice to be taking part in it, albeit a small part. I think of James and how much fun we would have had here. At first I smile, but then my face falls. I try to stop it, but I miss him so much.
As dusk falls, a fire is lit in the fire pit. I wander over to make a quick s’more. Sitting down on one of the benches, I skewer my marshmallow, and hold it over the fire. Once it’s good and crispy, I pull it off the stick by squashing it between two graham crackers and pulling. I keep the chocolate separate, taking a bite of it and then a bite of the marshmallow/graham cracker combo. The chocolate doesn’t melt all over your fingers this way.
“I thought I was the only one who did that,” someone says as he takes a seat beside me. I look over to see some guy I don’t know.
I scoot over to give him some room. “It’s less messy,” I shrug.
He skewers his marshmallow and begins the same process. “I’m Dane,” he introduces himself and shifts his marshmallow stick to his left hand to offer me a handshake. “You are?”
“Emma,” I shake his hand tentatively.
“How do you know the Randall’s?” he asks.
“Matt invited me. I’ve known him since we were little.” I pause. I really don’t want to talk to this guy, but my conscience tells me to be polite. “You?”
“Old family friend,” he smiles at me. “My dad and Dr. Randall are long-time fishing buddies.”
I nod while I finish my s’more, and then stare at the fire. I have nothing to say to Dane, but it feels rude to just get up and leave. I assess him out of the corner of my eye. He sits taller than me and he’s about my age, maybe slightly older. In this light, he looks like he has dark hair and eyes, and he’s wearing a black fitted t-shirt and jeans. If I wasn’t so melancholy I would say he was cute. We sit in silence as he assembles his graham crackers and marshmallow.
He clears his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’re looking kind of sad. Anything wrong?” He takes a bite.
I wasn’t expecting that question. I stare at the fire as my mind answers him. Yes, something is very, very wrong. James is gone and I am alone. I’ve stopped dreaming about him, but sometimes I hear his voice. I may be going crazy. It’s hard for me to do anything but what my friend tells me to do. I’m pretty messed up and not much fun. You can go now, its okay.
But I say nothing.
I continue to look at the fire as he finishes his s’more. Dane shifts his weight, like he’s uncomfortable. “So…” he trails off awkwardly.
I give him a small apologetic smile. I wish I was better at this, better at putting up a good front.
“You’re not trying very hard.”
James’ voice sounds crystal clear. My smile disappears and my body tenses in surprise.
“But then again, you never were a very good liar.”
I turn abruptly and start to look around behind me.
“Is something wrong?” Dane asks, trying to find what I’m looking for.
“Oh no,” I face him, trying to act casual. “I thought I heard my name.”
“Oh.” His expression tells me he’s rethinking his decision to come and talk to me.
“Yep, still a horrible liar,” I hear James snicker.
“Is this thing on?”
I jump as someone taps a microphone. I turn toward the patio and see a group of people gathered around. “It’s time for some karaoke! Who’s first?” People laugh and a few hands shoot up.
“Do you want to go and watch?” Dane asks me.
I turn back to face him. “I….um….” My brain is completely scattered by James’ voice.
“Do you want to watch or don’t you?”
I’m still trying to process my thoughts. “Uh…well…”
“I’ll make this easy for you,” Dane says shaking his head. “I’m going to go watch people make fools out of themselves. If you want to join me, you can.” He stands. “It was nice…er…talking to you,” he says and walks away.
I sigh and close my eyes. Could I have acted any more idiotic?
I can hear James laugh. “That was smooth.”
With my eyes still closed, I smile and wait for James to say something else.
Instead, I hear the karaoke music start and a girl start to warble Brittany Spears’ “Baby One More Time.” I will James’ voice to come back.
When I don’t hear him by the end of the song I open my eyes, disappointed. Another guest takes the mic, and I realize that I haven’t seen Shel, or my parents, in awhile. I decide to head over to the karaoke concert to find them.
I take my time walking back to the patio, thinking about James’ voice. It’s right. I haven’t been trying very hard. I attempt to rearrange my face to look somewhat interested in the entertainment. As I approach the patio, Dr. and Mrs. Randall are beginning a hilarious rendition of Sonny and Cher’s “I’ve Got You Babe.” I can’t help but laugh as I watch them. At the end of the song everyone claps and cheers as t
hey take exaggerated bows.
As the next person to sing is decided, my eyes scan the patio looking for Shel or my parents. Something catches my eye.
And what I see infuriates me.
Chapter 11
Off to the side of the patio, tucked behind the group of spectators, is where I find them. Matt is sitting in one of the patio chairs and Shel is sitting on his lap, facing him, and they are kissing. There is no logical explanation for it, but anger constricts my chest. I move out of the group of people and slowly walk behind them to the other side of the patio to make sure what I’m seeing is real.
I stop and blend into the guests when I get as close as I dare. I was wrong; they are not just kissing. They are full on consuming one another. I see Matt’s hands wrap around Shel’s waist and then move up her back. I look down at the ground and clench my hands into fists as I try and calm myself.
My mind seethes. The reason she drug me out here tonight was this? Why? Why not just let me stay home?
I hear Shel giggle and I glance back at them through narrowed eyes. I can see Matt raise his finger to his lips. He tells her to “shhhh” while laughing himself. He starts to kiss her neck. That’s when I decide I can’t take anymore. I’m leaving.
I wrap my arms around myself and walk quickly through the backyard, around the house, and back to the street. The spot is empty where my parents had parked. “Thanks for telling me you were leaving,” I mutter under my breath.
I pull out the keys, get into my car, and slam the door shut behind me. I start the engine and grip the steering wheel, pausing to glare back at the Randall’s house. I shake my head in disgust and throw the car into reverse.
“How will Shel get back?” James’ voice rings clear.
I’m so upset I don’t even flinch. “She’s in good hands,” I snap out loud to the empty car.
I make sure to back out carefully but when I throw the car into drive, the tires squeal as I hit the gas.
The next morning I rise with the alarm clock, surprised I slept without tossing and turning. My thoughts return to last night and I groan. My anger with Shel and Matt may have subsided, but I still feel annoyed. I drag myself out of bed to get ready for work. Memorial Day weekend is supposed to be huge for golf; I’m sure the course will be packed.
After showering, I head downstairs to grab something quick to eat. When I pass Shel’s door, I notice it’s been left slightly open, and I can hear her alarm going off. I peek in and see her passed out in the bed, dead to the world, still dressed in what she was wearing last night.
Really?! My anger returns in full force. Today is supposed to be extremely busy; I’m going to need her help and she’s going to make us late! Instead of doing the right thing, which would be to wake her, I storm down the stairs.
“Mornin’,” my dad says over a bowl of cereal.
I throw open the pantry door and grab a couple granola bars.
“Have a good time last night?” he asks me.
I grab my keys off the counter and head for the back door, not even bothering to wait and see if Shel decides to wake up for work. “Terrific,” I grumble to him over my shoulder as I leave the house.
Bay Woods is packed when I arrive. I walk into the pro shop to clock in and check the schedule. I’ll be on the beverage cart for most of the day. Thankfully Shel is assigned to the main concession – if she makes it in. I say a quick hello to Kris, my manager, and head out to the cart area to check my cart and see what needs restocking.
I’m in the middle of unpacking a case of water and burying it in ice when I hear a voice hiss from behind me. “Why did you leave me?”
I look up to see a disheveled Shel, her hair pulled up in a hasty ponytail, shirt wrinkled, half tucked in and half hanging out. Two mismatched socks, no makeup.
“It wasn’t my day to babysit you.” There’s an edge to my tone that comes out sharper than I intended.
She blinks and her mouth falls open in surprise at my response. She quickly shuts it and looks confused. “What did I do to you?”
I finish burying the water bottles and slam the cooler door shut. I gather the plastic from the case of water off the ground and crumple it into a ball. I start to walk to the dumpster.
“Hey!” she yells at me. “I’m talking to you!”
I pause, my back to her. I look down at the crumpled plastic in my hands and then over my shoulder at her. “Have a good time last night?” I ask in a nasty tone.
Shel shakes her head and looks at me like I’m insane. “What?”
I turn and face her. “Last night. Did you have a good time?”
Her face is still twisted in confusion. “Why?”
“As if you don’t know,” I accuse her.
“You’re mad at me because I got drunk? I only had three drinks! I can’t help it Uncle Al doesn’t know what a shot is,” she defends herself, growing angry.
“And?”
“And what? I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad here! You took off last night without warning; I had to find a ride home. I get a little hung over and you abandon me again this morning!”
“Like you really had a hard time finding a ride home! If you would have taken your tongue out of Matt’s mouth for two seconds you might have realized I was ready to leave!” I know I’m being loud, but I really don’t care. I know my anger is irrational, but I can’t help it.
Shel’s face goes slack. “What?”
I lose it entirely. “Stop it!” I’m yelling now. “If you wanted to hook up with Matt, why did you have to drag me along? Couldn’t you have just left me at home? Where I don’t have to pretend that everything’s okay? Where I won’t embarrass myself in front of strangers? Where I won’t be reminded of what I don’t have?” Angry tears are running down my face. I realize now the root of my anger. I don’t have that anymore.
Shel looks shocked; as if I’ve physically hit her. After a moment she rearranges her face and walks toward me. “Look…” she says quietly.
I back away from her and put my hands out to stop her. “Just…don’t.” I turn back to head for the dumpster, hastily wiping the tears from my face. As I walk, I check my phone. I have only ten minutes to compose myself before I’m supposed to be out on the course.
The day goes by quickly due to how busy we are. I’m grateful for two reasons: it keeps my mind occupied and it’s easy to avoid Shel. I know we’re going to have to talk this through, but I need some time to think about what I’m going to say. She’s done nothing but support me over the last two weeks. The apology I owe her is huge.
Around six, I return to the pro shop and hand my cart over to Katie, a new hire, for the next shift. I wander inside to clock out and then take a quick glance into the main concession. Shel isn’t there. It’s probably better if we talk at home anyway.
When I pull up the driveway, Shel is sitting on the back step. I slowly get out of the car, walk up, and stand before her. I twist my fingers together nervously and stare at the ground like a child who is about to be punished. I’m unsure of where to start.
She beats me to it. “Do you want me to leave?” she asks pointedly.
I look up at her. “No. Absolutely not.”
She sighs and pats the spot next to her on the step. I take a seat and ask her quietly, “You know how sorry I am, right?”
She nods. “I’m sorry too.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“No, I do,” she meets my eyes. “I was careless.”
“No, you’re normal. I’m the one with the crazy emotions.”
Shel snorts. “I may have some crazy emotions myself.”
We pause for a moment and stare out across the yard.
“Look,” I say. “What you do is none of my business. If you and Matt are together, that’s actually really great.”
“Except we’re not,” she sighs.
I look at her in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
She gives me a guilty look. “It appears I owe someone else an ap
ology too.”
I’m confused. “So what happened?”
“Long story short, margaritas happened,” she says, embarrassed.
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“Do you think he thinks you two are…?”
“I’m not sure what he thinks,” she shrugs. “He was out of it, so some friend of his drove me back here. David? Don?”
“Dane.” I groan, remembering my idiotic stuttering.
“You know him?”
I make a face. “He’s the one I embarrassed myself in front of.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks I’m…what’s a good word? Special.”
Shel laughs. “Well, that makes two of us.”
I lean my head against my best friend’s shoulder and smile with her. Lately, we’re two peas in a pod when it comes to social awkwardness.
“Seriously though,” Shel says when her laughter fades. “I am sorry. I have been pushing you. The cemetery, the job, the bar, this thing…” she waves her hand absentmindedly. “I haven’t been here that long. It’s a lot. But my intentions are good.”
“I know. I do appreciate it. Truly I do.”
“Okay,” she pauses and holds out her pinky finger. “From here on out I promise not to push so hard.”
I loop my pinky around hers. “And I promise to remember that other people have lives and to try and keep my emotions in check.”