by T. Torrest
Tess is almost in tears and I feel like a humongous jerk. I had no idea. But how could I? Apparently, my best friend has been living a secret life for the better part of an entire year.
But our cluelessness isn’t helping her to feel any better at the present moment.
“Tess, I’m so sorry.” I steal a look at Vix’s guilty face. “We both are. We just want you to be happy, really. Ron’s awesome. He’s a great guy and he obviously loves you a lot, which is nothing less than you deserve.”
After a pause, Vix sums it up facetiously with, “Does this mean we don’t get to be in your wedding?”
Tess loses the gloomy expression and starts laughing. She looks at the four of us, her best friends in the entire world and answers, “Well, it’s too much of a hassle to find anyone else. Bitches, will you be my bridesmaids?”
CHAPTER 35
Monday, July 3, 1995
10:35 PM
Jenkinson’s Pavillion
Point Pleasant
“To Tess and Ronnie!”
The girls and I have been at Jenkinson’s for all of ten minutes and we’re already on our second round of shots.
We clink glasses and throw our heads back, downing every last, revolting drop of our tequila. Blech. I’m trying to suck every molecule out of my lemon wedge in an attempt to abolish the taste of the liquor from my mouth when I ask, “Whose bright idea was it to do tequila?”
Tess slams her shot glass upside down onto the bar with a woohoo! “Honey, I’m getting married. When you’re getting married, you do tequila. C’mon, let’s dance.”
She grabs my hand and I grab Vix’s, forming a human train on our way out to meet Isla and Sam on the dance floor. The Nerds are playing, which always makes for a good time. Their niche in the bar band scene is a set list comprised solely of eighties songs, and right now they’re playing “Whip It.”
Tess is in rare form. The girl is normally a bucket of energy, but tonight she’s practically busting out of her skin. As apprehensive as I was about this engagement, I have to confess that I’ve never seen her happier. She’s bouncing around, singing along, looking positively... radiant. Her elated glow is even outshining the huge, two carat rock on her finger.
The Nerds move out of “Whip It” and right into “Jessie’s Girl,” which makes Tess scream cheerfully and twirl madly around the dance floor. She’s spinning around like a crazy woman when she crashes dead on into... Sean Tanner.
My eyes practically bug out of my head as I cross the dance floor to say hello. Sean has his hands under Tess’s elbows, trying to haul her to her feet. Instead of being embarrassed about wiping out at the feet of some cute guy, I see my friend using the opportunity to make eyes at her captor. She is such a flirt.
I approach just as Stephen turns toward the scene being played out next to him. He sees me before Sean does. “Livia? Hey! What’s happening, sister?”
Sean looks up, and Tess gives me a wide-eyed look as if to say, You know these guys?
I kiss them both hello and ask, “What are you guys still doing here? I thought you left last night.”
I become aware that they’re both still in their same clothes from yesterday’s photo shoot. Even with their day-old scruff and artfully mussed hair, they make a pretty picture: Two tall, dark, handsome men in their matching jeans and button-down white shirts. The girls in this place probably don’t know what hit them. Or hit on them, as the situation may more accurately be described.
Tess sure as hell looks as though she’s been met with a speeding bus. She’s still gazing up at Sean as he answers, “Nope. Too wasted to drive all the way home. We crashed on the beach.”
I laugh. “And it didn’t occur to you to go home this morning?”
Stephen explains, “I’m not on duty until tomorrow night. We were having a good time, so we decided to stay another day.”
“In your same old grungy clothes from the beach yesterday.”
“Hey, we showered,” Sean protests. “We snuck into the locker room at Gold’s Gym.”
I shake my head at the two of them. “Why didn’t you just come by the house? We could have found room for you.”
Thinking about how Jack and I had spent our evening, I realize that last night would never have happened if these two galoots decided to crash our party. I’m actually thankful they didn’t come by.
Tess gives me an impatient glare which makes me apologize for my oversight. “Oh, I’m sorry. Tess, these are Jack’s brothers. Stephen, Sean... this is Tess.”
Stephen gives her a charismatic nod, but Sean takes her hand, holding her fingers lightly in his as he pours on the charm. “Ah, this is Tess! I should have known. Nice to finally meet you. Livia told us you were beautiful... She wasn’t lying.”
“Save it, Sean. She’s engaged.”
Tess is actually blushing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. She’s normally the one putting the color into other people’s cheeks. She must realize that at the same second I do, because suddenly, her lips curl up like the Cheshire cat. Trademark Tess.
“Yes, I’m engaged. But not married,” she purrs.
I roll my eyes. “You are a shameless, shameless flirt, my friend.”
The guys insist on buying us a round, so I introduce them to the rest of our group before Stephen hurdles off to the bar for shots. Kamikazes this time, at least.
They stick around most of the night, everyone trading off rounds of beers and the occasional shot. After a few hours of that, we’re all feeling pretty loose.
Scratch that. We’re all feeling really loose.
The Nerds break into “I Love Rock and Roll,” and Tess lets out with a “WHOOHOO!”
Before I can register what’s happening, she grabs my hand… and drags me up on stage.
With about ten drinks less in me, I may have shaken her off. But because my BAC is somewhere around eighty percent, I think it’s a great idea.
I hear a cheer go up from the crowd as she throws an arm around my shoulders and leans us both into the mic.
The beat was goin’ strong
Playin’ my favorite so-ow-ow-ong…
The rest of the guys onstage are prodding us on encouragingly as we sing and dance along, while the girls are falling all over themselves laughing uncontrollably.
We are having a blast, laughing our way through the impromptu performance; the booze has abolished every hint of stage fright, and being up here is actually fun. I’m staring out at a sea of faces, and I gotta say, it’s quite a rush. I get why Jack loves it so much. Is it my imagination or do we actually sound pretty good?
God, I must really be wasted. I don’t even think my voice sounds good in the shower, and here I am belting away into a microphone in front of five hundred strangers. I am just buzzed enough to decide not to care. I’ll never see any of these people ever again in my life.
The music starts winding down, so I give a silly curtsy and climb down from the stage.
Tess opts for a grander exit, however. She gives a yell and throws her arms over her head as the audience roars back…
…then stage dives into the crowd.
Holy shit! We all just about lose our minds cracking up. Actual tears are streaming down my face and I can’t even catch my breath. Vix is leaning into me, hysterical. A night out with Tess is always a good time, but she reset the bar unapproachably higher tonight. How the heck are we going to top this for her bachelorette party?
As Tess finds her way back to our laughing group, I see that she isn’t alone. Some blond guy is following closely behind and trying to get her attention. Even without the stage show, Tess is a girl who gets noticed. I can’t recall a single night out when she hasn’t been hit on. As a group, we’re not too shabby or anything, but that chick has always had it all over the rest of us. Combined.
So I’m a little taken aback when Blondie brushes by Tess and introduces himself to Vix. It wasn’t a rude maneuver, however, and since Tess is busy giving high-fives to her fans, I’m su
re she hasn’t even noticed.
No one in our circle seems to realize that our pack of seven has just become eight. I steal a look at the new guy and am convinced that he looks familiar. You don’t see too many beach-blond crops of surfer hair on guys past their teens. Not to say that his look isn’t working for him. He is definitely cute. In fact, judging by Vix’s response over there, I’m betting that she’d say he’s extremely cute.
It’s not until he goes to scratch his upper arm, sliding his short-sleeve up in the process, do I see the round, blue-and-green tattoo. A sudden recollection enters my mind.
A porch in Point Pleasant. Tess, Vix and me. Three surfer dudes coming off the beach and stopping to say hello. Their admission that they were the filthy prior tenants of our present rental. A disgusting shower stall, a science-experiment-in-the-making kitchen...
...and Vix lambasting them for trying to ask us out, even though she thought the one with the Earth tattoo was kinda cute.
I guess she either doesn’t recognize him or she suddenly thinks that being messy isn’t that big of a deal. I’m banking on the former. Vix is an absolute neat freak.
Stephen leans down to me and nods in her direction. “What’s up with Spicoli over there?”
“I don’t know,” I answer. “I was just wondering the same thing.”
“Think we should save her?”
I take stock of the situation, watching as Vix demurely takes a sip of her drink from her straw. Her eyes don’t stray from his face as I see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“You know what? I don’t think she needs saving. C’mon. Let’s get everyone to the outside bar; I need air. Next round’s on me.”
CHAPTER 36
Tuesday, July 4, 1995
Way too early
My Bed (I think)
Hell
Somehow, I’m not dead.
My brain has imploded and my limbs are missing, but I am, in fact, alive.
I almost wish I weren’t.
I wipe the crust from my eyes and raise my head from the pillow. Even slowly, this is a bad idea. I sink back down into my beach-damp sheets and take a huge breath.
Another mistake.
I start coughing spasmodically, my lungs heaving to overcome the too-many cigarettes I sucked down last night. The coughing just adds to my splitting headache. As the fit subsides, I lift my head again. Then my upper body. Then miraculously, I manage to swing my feet onto the floor.
I rake my eyes over my bed partner Vix, still sleeping. Even with the oscillating fan churning away, there’s a stale beer smell permeating the room and I don’t know whose breath is responsible. Smacking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I realize it very likely could be me.
I don’t need to peek beyond the slivers of light framing the pulled shade of the window in order to tell that it’s a beautiful, bird-chirping morning out there.
It’s a hellish, hangover morning in here.
Happy Fourth of July!
I stagger out of the bedroom—stumbling over my discarded platform heels on the floor in the process—with only the picture of a very large glass of water on my mind.
I almost trip again over Sean, passed out on the living room floor, and wonder how he’s able to possibly sleep through his brother’s snoring. Stephen must have won the coin toss, because he’s dozing away, albeit noisily, in what looks like relative comfort on the couch. After spending the night on the floor, Sean is most likely going to wake up in more pain than me. If that’s even possible.
Poor bastard.
I fill a red Solo cup with water straight from the faucet. I’m so thirsty that I only barely register that the taste is off. Tap water isn’t ever so great to begin with, but at the beach? Yargh.
I shuffle into the bathroom and paw through the medicine cabinet in search of the Tylenol. I down four, then scrub the miniature socks off my teeth with my toothbrush. I throw my hair into a ponytail and wash my face with cold water. This is about as good as it’s going to get for now.
I’m starting to feel more like myself by the time I sit down at the kitchen table with a Pop Tart and a Diet Coke: The Breakfast of Champions. The wooden chairs are hard and unpadded—not quite the ideal place for slumping—but Stephen is commandeering the only comfy seat in the room.
Peering across the table, I picture Jack as he looked two nights ago sitting in the now empty chair: One leg crossed over the other, his gray eyes silently staring me down. I chuckle to myself when I think of the way his lips had curled into a calculating smile as he told me what he planned to do to me.
And then the way he carried out the plan itself.
Checking the clock, I decide that it isn’t too early to hit the stores and get the rest of our provisions for the barbeque today. The girls brought most of the food down with them yesterday, but I still haven’t even started on Jack’s little wish list. Plus, Isla forgot the ketchup. How in God’s name do you forget to get ketchup for a barbeque?
I go back into my bedroom and dress quietly so as not to wake Vix. I scribble a note for the girls, leave it on the coffee table, then step over Sean again on my way out the door.
* * *
I check my watch for the millionth time. Jack isn’t the most prompt person in the world, but it’s already two o’clock and I expected him here hours ago. Even if he hit holiday traffic, he should have certainly been here by now.
He should have certainly at least called by now.
I know it’s stupid, but I refuse to call him. If his meeting with Shug went well, he would have been ecstatic to spill the news. I’m starting to get the impression that things didn’t go so great yesterday, and I don’t want to be up his butt about it if he’s not ready to discuss it. And he must not be ready to even face it, much less discuss it, because he’s running pretty late.
Stephen and Sean have already split for home. They waited around until a little while ago to see Jack before heading out, but he didn’t make it down in time.
I check my watch, again, and Vix catches me. “Will you just look at this,” she starts in. “Livia just can’t wait for her stud to get here.”
I’d confirmed for the girls last night in a drunken haze that I had finally slept with Jack and more interestingly, how he said he loved me. Even though I thought I was being secretive when I mentioned it, my volume was set to ‘Beer.’ In front of his brothers. How embarrassing.
“What time was he supposed to be here, Liv?” Sam asks.
“I don’t know. No set time, I guess. I just thought... you know... he’d be here earlier.”
Tess stops scrubbing down the grill to chime in, “You just thought he wouldn’t be able to get down fast enough for Round Two.”
“Tess!”
“What? Oh please. Like you can actually keep your mind on anything else today. You little sex kitten, you.”
She takes the plate of raw ground beef and holds it out to me. “Nice job on the burgers, by the way.”
Vix, Sam, and Isla all stifle their giggles. I’m the only one who isn’t in on the joke.
Until I take a look for myself.
On the dish Tess is jabbing in my direction, there’s a pile of inconsistent, barely round burger blobs. One isn’t even patted down flat. I start laughing when I see the lone meatball glob amongst the other pathetic patties.
Oooh. Note to self: Good name for an all-girl band: The Pathetic Patties.
“Fine.” I say. “You caught me. But I’m just a little freaked out that he hasn’t called yet. Do you think things could have gone that badly yesterday?”
Vix shrugs. “I don’t know. I hope not. That meeting was a pretty big deal, huh?”
I nod. “Well, yeah. I mean, the money from this one contract alone could get Jack all set up with his own construction company someday. He really wants that.” I get up to repair the hamburgers so Tess can throw them on the grill. “Do you think I should page him? I don’t want to bug him if there’s bad news, but I can’t imagine what’
s keeping him.”
Vix dismisses my worry with a wave of her hand. “It’s probably just traffic. It is the Fourth of July, you know. Why don’t you call his brothers? They’re probably home by now and can tell you what the Southbound side looked like.”
“Good idea. I’m right on top of that, Rose!”
I finish fixing the burgers and then go inside to wash my hands and use the phone.
Sean tells me that the roads were pretty clear.
Now I’m starting to worry.
I go back outside to relay the information to the girls, but before I can speak, Jack’s convertible pulls into the driveway.
It’s about time.
I go through the gate at the side of the house and meet him in the drive. “Hi, babe. Welcome back!”
He gets out of the car slowly, looking like a beaten man. Surely, this isn’t just because of a late evening playing guitar all night. This is something more. The look on his face is forlorn, haggard. His shoulders are slouched, his eyes are red and he looks... completely dejected.
Crap. I guess the meeting didn’t go so well. Still, I’m surprised by the severity of his reaction. He looks entirely miserable.
Dancing around the subject, I ask, “Bad day, yesterday?”
He’s uncharacteristically apprehensive for a beat. Then he steps forward to wrap his arms around me—tightly—resting his head against my shoulder. “You have no idea.”
“Oh, Jack,” I say, my heart breaking for him. “I’m so sorry. This totally stinks. But everything’s going to work out fine, I just know it.”
“Will it?”
I pull back to look at his face. His eyes are hard, not meeting mine directly.
“Yes,” I say. And more importantly, I believe it. “Come on in back. I’ll get you a burger and a beer.”