by Becky Wade
Based on previous cookout experiences, he knew it would be loud and crowded inside, so he let himself through the side gate into the backyard. The sound of conversations increased as he neared.
CeCe, Ben’s mom, would kill him if he showed up in scrubs, so he’d brought a change of clothes with him to work that morning. His jeans were in good shape, but the car ride had creased the light blue dress shirt he wore untucked.
People he didn’t know were playing cornhole beneath the big sweetgum tree at the far edge of the lawn that had once supported a tree house. When he’d first started coming here, he and Ben had been thirteen. They’d been too old to play in tree houses, but Sebastian had still used it as an escape whenever he’d needed a break from all the talking, eating, and cleaning inside the house.
He’d grab his homework or one of the books he’d checked out from the library, and climb the wooden rectangles hammered into the trunk. Through an opening in the floor, he’d enter the simple square box with no roof.
He remembered sitting on the tree house floor in hot weather and in cold, when the space had seemed large for his frame and after it had become small. The branches provided privacy. Spider webs stretched across the corners, and twigs and leaves littered the floor. The wood had been old and rough, quick to give splinters.
The final time he’d visited the tree house, he’d been seventeen and had almost reached his full height. When he’d pulled himself up into it, the entire thing had creaked and threatened to collapse.
He’d sat very still, his weight evenly distributed, reading a textbook. He’d been in a relatively good place in his life. He’d been on his way to achieving his goals. He had the Colemans. Yet on that day, his eyes had stung with sorrow, because he’d known that trip to the tree house would be his last.
He wasn’t a crier. During his childhood there were many times when crying would’ve been the healthiest response. But on those occasions, his eyes had remained dry and his heart had been cold as stone.
On his next visit to the Colemans, every piece of the tree house had been gone. The only sign that it had been there was the damaged bark where the steps had been. The loss had hit him like a blow.
He threaded his way through the guests, nodding to people he knew, making his way onto the deck.
He found Ben’s dad exactly where he’d known he’d be, in front of the barbecue, surrounded by friends.
“Sebastian,” Hersh said with deep affection. The older man hugged him and bumped a fist against his back. “Love you, man.”
Love you, man and yeah made up about half of Hersh’s vocabulary. For decades he’d worked for a company that sold trucks to corporations. A big man with a bald oval head and a goatee, Hersh was so good-natured that smile lines permanently indented his face.
Hersh extended his tasting plate to Sebastian, who pulled off a crispy piece of rib meat. Sebastian chewed slowly. “Delicious.”
“Good, right?”
“Better than good.” Sebastian licked his fingers.
Hersh made a merry sound and snuck another taste for himself. “What’s that you got there?” He indicated the present Sebastian carried.
“A gift for your wife that she’ll probably like better than whatever you bought for her.”
“Man, I booked a trip for the two of us to Mexico. There’s no way your gift is better than that.”
“You’re right. It’s not better than— ”
“I believe I get to be the judge of that.” CeCe had arrived. Short, plump, and opinionated, she made up in feistiness what she lacked in inches.
She’d combed her graying black hair tightly away from her face into a twist at the back of her neck. In the mid-2000s, she’d decided she had “springtime coloring” and since then had worn only pale purple clothing. Her features were plain. But when you spoke with her, nothing about her read as plain because of the force of her personality.
After the earthquake, Ben was the one who’d invited Sebastian over numerous times. CeCe was the one who’d insisted he become a part of their family. She’d been very firm on that, especially the times when they’d butted heads and he’d tried to pull away. Her own kids had never found a way to disobey her, and neither had Sebastian.
CeCe gave him a hug filled with the scent of a flower garden and the press of long, fancy fingernails. Then she clasped her hands on either side of his face, eyes narrowing as she studied him. “You’re late,” she said.
“Hi.”
“You’re late,” she repeated, setting her hands on her round hips.
“I can’t be late until the barbecue is served. Also, the invitation said this was a come-and-go thing from five until ten.”
“Not for you! You’re family, so you should’ve been here at 4:45 to help deal with me when I was having my pre-party hissy fit.”
“As sorry as I am to have missed your pre-party hissy fit—”
She sucked air through her teeth.
“—I had to work. I got in the car and drove here as soon as I could. Also, I brought you a gift.” He handed over the package. He’d convinced Markie to wrap it for him in gold paper with a big white bow.
After pulling free the wrapping paper, CeCe opened the box. Within lay a crystal wine glass.
“What!” she crowed. Her eyes rounded, and her lips formed a blazing smile. “It’s my holy grail!” She lifted it from the box and held it up like a trophy.
Before their wedding, CeCe had registered for twelve Alana crystal goblets by Waterford. Several years ago, when washing goblets after a baby shower, one had slipped and shattered. The Alana style was discontinued, and CeCe had been unable to purchase a replacement. She’d never gotten over it. Several times she’d complained loudly to Sebastian about having only eleven goblets. “An odd number! What on earth am I supposed to do with eleven goblets?”
“My holy grail!” she screeched again.
Sebastian grinned.
She whooped and danced in place while Hersh egged her on by clapping. “Where did you find this?” she asked.
“A website that brokers hard-to-find pieces of glassware. The Alana is a hot commodity. I set up an alert and asked to be notified whenever one became available. Even so, other buyers beat me to it the first five times.”
“You were at a disadvantage because you’re nowhere near your phone when you’re in surgery,” she said.
“Yeah,” Hersh murmured.
“This goblet became available at two a.m. a few weeks back, and it was immediately mine.”
“Immediately mine, you mean.” She held it against her heart. “Thank you, sweetie.”
“Love you, man.” Hersh patted him on the shoulder.
“You do know that this goblet isn’t going to get you out of the post-party cleanup chores, right?” CeCe asked.
“Right.”
“Hersh and I are going to be dog tired after all this, so we’ll be putting our feet up. We had kids and grandkids so we wouldn’t have to handle cleanup.” She bobbed her head toward the far side of the deck. “Did you see Ben? He invited that blond teacher he likes.”
Within Sebastian, something fundamental went completely still.
“When she showed up a few minutes ago,” Hersh commented, “he about wet his pants.”
Sebastian steeled himself and looked. Leah was talking with Ben. She wore a green cardigan over a blue-and-white sundress, which had a wide skirt that ended at her knees. The sight impacted him like a defensive tackle. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
He wished he’d had some warning. Ben hadn’t told him he’d invited Leah.
“Go see if you can help him out with her,” CeCe suggested.
“Okay.”
“Well.” She made a shooing motion. “Go on, then.”
“Happy anniversary.”
“Sure. Now go on.”
He moved in Ben’s direction as CeCe turned toward the interior of the house. He heard her yell, “My holy grail!” to her sister.
Ben’s older brother stopped
Sebastian with a question about health insurance deductibles.
An aunt asked him who he was dating these days.
Finally, he approached Ben and Leah. Ben was smiling like it was winter and Leah was sunshine.
She stopped speaking mid-sentence as he drew near. “Sebastian,” she said warmly.
“Hey.”
Ben hugged him.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” Sebastian said to Leah. “Ben’s parents are great.”
“Don’t let them catch you calling them my parents,” Ben said. “Mom will hit the roof since she wants you to view them as your parents, too.”
“I’m fresh out of parents,” Leah said. “Can they be my parents?”
Ben’s face brightened. The comment could be taken to mean that she’d like Herschel and CeCe as her mother- and father-in-law. “Done!”
Leah looked pleased and so pretty that Sebastian forced down a swallow.
“We were discussing our summer plans when you walked over,” Leah told him.
“I know about Ben’s family trip to Florida,” Sebastian said, “because I’m joining them for part of that one.”
“We’re the unmarried uncles.” Ben swung his thumb back and forth between them. “Which means we’re the two adults who spend the most time playing with the kids.”
“Playing how?” she asked.
“They like to throw wet sand,” Ben answered, “and build sandcastles on the beach and go boogie boarding. For some reason, they also like us to get down on all fours so they can ride around on our backs and have sword fights with pool noodles.”
“They call that fighting horses.” Sebastian felt obligated to talk Ben up in front of Leah. “Ben’s better at all of it than I am.” He considered himself to be a decent uncle, but objectively, Ben was better. Ben would play those games with the kids for hours. Sebastian’s patience was limited, and he’d rather read a book with a kid than carry one around on all fours. . . .
As if thinking about the kids had called one to him, Hadley Jane, Ben’s three-year-old niece, ran in Sebastian’s direction with her arms lifted up.
He scooped her into the air and positioned her on his hip.
“Sebastian!” she sang, wrapping the hair at the back of his neck around one of her small fingers.
Until he’d had kids in his life to love, until he’d watched a child grow from an infant to a toddler to an elementary schooler, he hadn’t fully grasped what a child’s life was worth. Now he did, because of the Coleman grandkids. Which had made him a better doctor.
Hadley Jane shot Leah a look that said she believed Leah had come to the party as either a kidnapper or a burglar.
“Have you met Hadley Jane?” Sebastian asked Leah.
“I haven’t.”
“This is Miss Montgomery,” Sebastian said to the little girl.
“How do you do,” Hadley Jane said.
Ben chuckled with a fist in front of his mouth. “Who taught you that?”
She shrugged slyly.
“Your brother did,” Sebastian told Ben. Then, to Hadley Jane, “Miss Montgomery was about to tell us about her summer plans.”
“I’m taking my brother on a road trip to New England,” Leah told him. “We’ll be gone three weeks.”
“Where are you staying?” Sebastian asked.
“RV parks. I’m renting a twenty-three-foot Airstream trailer. It has a bedroom for me, and a dinette that converts into a bed for Dylan.”
“You’re going to haul an Airstream to New England and back?” Sebastian asked. That didn’t sound safe.
Hadley Jane pushed her lips to the side skeptically.
“I am. It’ll be a first,” Leah admitted. “We go on trips every summer, but in the past we’ve stayed in a tent.”
“You’ve pulled an RV before,” Sebastian said to Ben.
“Yep.”
“You could give her some pointers.”
“Definitely.”
“If you decide you enjoy the trailer,” Sebastian said to Leah, “you two should organize a group camping weekend this fall.”
“I’d like that. Who could we invite to join us?” Leah asked Ben. “Definitely Connor.”
“Did I hear my name?” Connor asked. He’d been standing a few groups away and now made his way toward them.
Sebastian had met Connor, the art teacher at Misty River High, a couple of times before. He was the type of handsome that women liked. Tall. In his late twenties. Red hair and beard. He had a relaxed, reasonable personality that made him easy to talk to.
“You remember Sebastian?” Ben asked Connor.
“I do. Good to see you again.”
“Good to see you, too.” They shook hands.
“Ben and I were discussing the possibility of a camping weekend this fall,” Leah said to Connor.
“I’m down for a camping trip anytime,” Connor replied.
Talk of camping led them to talk of the adventure races Connor participated in. Ben asked him about the wilderness navigation involved, and Connor explained the basics.
Hadley Jane squirmed, so Sebastian set her on her feet. She ran off.
He was left alone with the three teachers, who seemed very happy together. Sebastian stood there, stiff, jealous, and unnecessary.
During a break in the conversation, Leah and Connor stepped to the outdoor table for appetizers.
Ben leaned toward Sebastian. “Stop it,” he said under his breath.
“I’m trying to help you out with her.”
“I got this. I don’t need you to help me out.”
Shame needled Sebastian. Ben didn’t know it, but he’d already tried to help him out when he’d told Leah about Ben’s feelings for her. Ben wouldn’t approve of his actions, which had made Sebastian wonder, after the fact, if it had been a mistake to take matters into his own hands and try to set Leah up with Ben. Part of him felt badly about telling Leah Ben’s secret. But most of him believed he’d done the right thing. Ben had liked her for almost two years, and Leah had had no idea. How was she supposed to warm up to the idea of dating Ben if she didn’t even know he wanted to date her? “This courtship is coming around more slowly than the World Cup,” Sebastian grumbled.
“Some things are worth the wait.”
“Like puberty? When do you think that’s finally going to come around for you?”
As Sebastian had known he would, Ben broke into laughter.
Leah returned carrying a paper plate of food. She and Ben discussed the new superintendent.
Since Ben knew him better than anyone, Sebastian was having to work to pretend he had no more than a casual interest in Leah. Inside, though, he felt something far, far stronger. He was arrested by her.
Though he was doing and saying the right things to help Ben’s cause with Leah, he hated the thought of them as a couple. His brain was shouting No! to the possibility of a romance between them—even though the correct answer was yes. Leah could not do better than Ben. Ben was the best uncle, and Ben would also be the best boyfriend.
And yet, no.
Yes.
Everything in him was demanding that he tear down heaven and earth to make Leah his.
What am I going to do? he wondered with the urgency of someone trying to escape a claustrophobic room.
He wasn’t going to do anything. Except treat her in the polite way he’d treated the women Ben had dated in the past.
Ben’s clueless uncle Eugene hooked an arm around Ben’s neck. The Colemans urged Eugene to play his saxophone at almost every gathering—funerals, weddings, birthday parties—despite the fact that he lacked talent. No doubt he’d perform an anniversary number later. “We’re arguing over which restaurant in Misty River makes the best biscuits,” Eugene said to Ben, dragging him away. “I need you to come over here and talk sense into these people.” He glanced at Sebastian and Leah. “Sorry, y’all. I’m going to borrow him for a bit.”
Then Ben and Eugene were gone, and Leah’s observant eyes flicked up to
meet his.
He shuttered his expression, not wanting her to see too much.
“I spoke with your attorney a few days ago about obtaining a court order,” she said. “She’s excellent.”
“Good. Will you keep me updated?”
“I will.” She lifted a homemade potato chip from her plate. “Did you undertake any heart surgeries today, Dr. Grant?”
“Only one.”
“I’ve been reading up on pediatric cardiac surgery since we talked last week.”
“Have you?”
“I have.”
Surgery disgusted most people. The rest were bored by technical details. Acquaintances usually asked him a few surface questions about his career and left it at that.
“What type of surgery did you perform today?” she asked.
“A biventricular repair.”
“To address which condition?”
“A double-outlet right ventricle.”
“Does that mean that both the aorta and the pulmonary artery were rising out of the right ventricle?”
He schooled his face so Ben wouldn’t catch him smiling at her like he was impressed. “Yes.”
“So the right ventricle was pumping blood through both outlets?”
“Correct. The left ventricle had no outlets, so it was shooting blood through a hole into the right ventricle.”
“And you fixed it by . . . ?”
“Creating two functioning ventricles.”
“Did your patient come through it well?”
“She came through it very well.”
“So far today, I’ve slept late, hiked, cleaned my house, and forced my brother to go to summer school. So . . . your day wins.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “That depends on how challenging it was to force your brother to go to summer school.”
Her bluish-gray eyes glittered, which gave him a sharp stab of satisfaction. Her nearness was ripping away the space suit he was trapped in, the one that dulled everything. She enabled him to feel things.
“What motivated you to become a doctor?” she asked.
“The white jackets, terrible hours, and the pay.” He spoke the lie smoothly. “In that order.”
The tips of her hair slipped against the sides of her delicate neck. Her bottom lip was fuller than her upper lip. Light caught in her little gold hoop earrings.