May the Best Man Win

by BJ Bentley

  “You should go into catering,” I blurted.

  April’s shocked eyes met mine across the table. “What?” She blinked.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, an idea forming and gaining traction. “Forget getting your real estate license, you should be feeding the masses.”

  “Real estate license?” John asked, looking at his wife with surprise.

  “Uh, it was just an idea I was kicking around,” she murmured, waving it off.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t sound angry but maybe a little...hurt. He and April had been together for years, and they were solid. They told each other everything. Or, so I thought.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, turning in her chair to face her husband, who sat at the head of the table. “I wasn’t hiding it from you, I just don’t know for sure it’s what I want to do.”

  “Okay, I get that, but we always talk through these things. You could have come to me.”

  April was nodding. “I know, I do. I just….” She sighed. “You know I’ve never really known what I wanted to do with my life. You’ve always wanted to help people, that’s why you became a social worker. Sophie’s always wanted to teach, so she does. I’ve always been the one with no aim. No real ambition. I just don’t want to be that person who jumps from job to job never settling in anywhere because I don’t know how long I’ll stay. Bringing up something that may or may not pan out only to end up tossing it aside later just seems...flaky. I don’t want to be flaky. So, I kept it to myself until I thought I could be sure. And, I’m not. I’m not sure.”

  She hadn’t exactly kept it to herself because she had told me, but John was kind enough not to point that out. Besides, I was her sister. I’d known her the longest, so I felt it was only fair that she confide in me first. Yes, I was petty like that.

  “I get it, babe, I do,” he reassured her. “And I don’t think you’re a flake. I’ve always known you weren’t happy at the insurance company, and I also know that you’ve got to find your own way. But finding your own way doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. That’s what you have a partner for.”

  The last part was a gentle scold, which my sister obviously recognized because she looked guilty. But John was only looking at her with love in his startling blue eyes, and I instantaneously felt something that suspiciously resembled envy while also experiencing guilt when I remembered the way Damon had looked at me the night before when he uttered those three little words. I was more determined than ever to have the conversation with my sister that I came here for so I could move past the thing that was holding me back. I was more resolved than ever to have with Damon what my sister had with John.

  I tore my eyes away from my sister and brother-in-law and glanced across the table at Damon, who sat directly across from me with Tierney seated between him and John. A small smile played on his lips as he looked at me with a tender expression. I tried to return his smile, but it felt awkward on my face, so I turned my attention back to my plate and picked at my food for the next twenty minutes, covertly listening to Damon tell John about some of the projects his company was working on.

  His work was something that Damon and I didn’t talk much about. I knew what Hatchling Tech did, for the most part, and had a general idea of some of the innovations the company was developing, but I didn’t know enough about the field to really have a grasp on the details for the implications of some of the advancements they were making.

  A dull thud to the side of my calf stole my rapt attention away from my now soggy Belgian waffle. Seriously, when did April have time to make freakin’ Belgian waffles? I shot her a look that said both, “What?” and “Was that really necessary?” at the same time.

  “You okay?” she mouthed.

  I gave her a small nod.

  “Help me put some of this stuff away?” she asked quietly, and I smiled in gratitude at the excuse to have a moment alone with her.

  In the kitchen, April shoved whatever leftovers she deemed salvageable into the fridge before confronting me. “Okay, spill.”

  I heaved a melodramatic sigh, one that I knew only my sister would understand. “I need to talk to you, but I can’t do it with him hovering.” I tipped my head in the direction of the dining room.

  “I figured as much. You have that look about you.”

  “What look?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like a combination of panic and guilt. It’s the same look you had on your face in that astronomy elective we took together your freshman year when Professor Clark called on you to identify a constellation, and you blurted out ‘labia minora!’”

  My shoulders slumped in shame. “I still think it sounds like it could be a constellation,” I muttered.

  April, being two years older than me, thought it would be fun if, my freshman year of college, I signed up for an elective with her, so we would have at least one class together despite pursuing two different majors on two different timelines. Unfortunately, not only was my sister there to witness my humiliation first hand, but the lecture had been live-streamed and recorded, so my blunder lives on in infamy for future generations to enjoy. Yes, I, Sophie James had been a viral sensation. Just another item to add to my list of questionable life choices.

  “So, what’s the problem? Is it Damon’s Big Dipper?”

  I snorted. “Oh, my God, shut up. And, no, there’s nothing wrong with Damon’s...Big Dipper. I can’t believe I just said that.”

  April chortled, clearly pleased with her own sparkling wit. “Come on, let’s shoo the men and Tierney into the living room, so we can talk.”

  Amid protests and groans of having eaten too much, we corralled John, Damon, and Tierney into the living room to watch football and do whatever it was dudes did when they got together. There was probably farting involved, but I hoped for Tierney’s sake, they’d keep their gaseous emissions to a minimum.

  “Care for a little day drinking?” April asked, pulling a bottle of champagne and a carton of orange juice from the fridge.

  “I never say no to mimosas.” I watched her eschew the champagne glasses in the cupboard for two red Solo cups. Sighing contentedly, I tilted my head and said, “You just get me.”

  “I’m your big sister, Soph. Who else is going to get you like me?”

  “No one.” I watched her mix two mimosas, noticing that hers was suspiciously light on the champagne. “There a reason why you’re being stingy with the booze?”

  “Relax, I gave you plenty.” She slid one cup toward me, keeping the one she poured with a lighter hand for herself.

  “Something you want to tell me, sis?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out before answering. “John and I are trying to get pregnant.”

  I may have cracked a tooth from the force of my jaw hitting the floor. “Seriously?!”

  “Shh. Keep it down, loud mouth. We’re just trying. So far, it’s a no-go.” She tried to play it off, but I sensed the disappointment in her voice.

  I reached across the table to grasp her hand. “I want this for you, so much. And for me, because I’m selfish, and I want to be an aunt.”

  “Your honesty is appreciated,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “Are you going to be there for three AM feedings and diaper blow-outs?”

  “If you need me, absolutely.” I squeezed her hand in mine, excited beyond belief at the prospect of a tiny April-John hybrid.

  “Now,” she said, getting serious, “tell me what’s messin’ with your head.”

  I blew out a breath and gulped my mimosa, wondering where to even begin. When I still didn’t speak, April did.

  “You can tell me anything, Soph.”

  She was right, I could. So, I opened my mouth and let the word vomit out.

  Chapter 28

  Sophie

  April stared at me, her expression alternating between slack-jawed disbelief and homicidal rage. It was the homicidal rage that blanketed her face at the exact moment John decided to poke his head into the kitchen.

&nbs
p; “Sorry, babe, just grabbing a couple of beers-”

  “Out,” she clipped.

  John pivoted on his heel to look at his wife. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

  April clenched her jaw and widened her eyes at him.

  “Okay! Going!” He quickly grabbed two beer bottles from the fridge before skedaddling.

  “Pretty sure you just scarred him for life with that look on your face,” I tried to joke. My sister was not amused. I cleared my throat and stared at my hands in my lap, idly picking at a loose thread in the hem of my sweater while I waited for April to yell or berate me or tell me what a damn fool I was. Anything at all, really, was better than her stony silence.

  When she finally spoke, it wasn’t at what I expected. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  My eyes shot to hers. “Pretty sure it was.”

  She shook her head. “No,” she seethed.

  I frowned. “Not sure if you were listening, April, but-”

  “No, Sophie.” She reached for my hands, intertwining our fingers. “It’s not. And you need to tell him.”

  By ‘him’ she meant Damon, obviously. I’d told April about the predicament I found myself in after Damon dropped the L word, and then I had to explain why it was such a predicament in the first place. That tale did not make my sister happy.

  “I don’t know how,” I whispered, feeling the sting of tears flood my eyes.

  “Tell him exactly how you just told me. Lay it all out there for him. I guarantee, he’s not going to blame you or look at you any differently. In fact, judging by the way he looks at you now, he’ll probably hunt down the bastard, rip out his intestines, and strangle him with them.”

  “That’s colorful,” I chuckled amidst my sniffling. “Okay, so, let’s say I do tell Damon the truth. Then what?”

  “You mean, how do you move past it?”

  I nodded.

  “That part’s easy. You do it with Damon at your side.”

  ***

  My sister’s advice was easier said than done as far as I was concerned, but by the time Damon dropped me off at my house that afternoon, he was clearly ready for me to bare my soul. He’d asked Tierney to wait in the car while he walked me to my door.

  “I know we need to talk, but I need to get Tierney home, so she can decompress. And I don’t want to have this conversation where her little ears can hear things they shouldn’t.”

  “I agree.” I breathed a sigh of relief at the reprieve, no matter how short-lived it might turn out to be. “I think we’ve disrupted her schedule enough as it is. You know, with all the sleepovers and stuff.”

  Damon smirked. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this, doll.”

  “I don’t. But I would like some time to gather my thoughts, and we’ve barely spent any time apart in the past few weeks.”

  He rolled his lips between his teeth and hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe some time would do us both a little good.”

  “Good,” I said, grateful he was seeing things my way.

  “You’ve got twenty-four hours,” he declared.

  “What? That’s not how this works!”

  “Tell me how you think it works, then.”

  “Well,” I huffed. “You give me time. And space,” I tacked on. “And I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk.”

  I was momentarily distracted when his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he regarded me. What was I talking about again?

  “That doesn’t work for me.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  “Naw. Ya see, darlin’, I’m onto you. Instead of using your time and space,” he said pointedly, “to think about what you want to say, you’ll use it to fortify your walls or think of ways to push me away again. And I can’t let that happen.”

  Completely unwarranted outrage filled me as I gasped. “I would never-”

  “Oh, you so totally would.”

  I clamped my jaw shut. He maybe wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him or even myself. I wanted to be the brave soul my sister believed I was, but with experience comes hard-learned lessons, and I was feeling gunshy. Hiking up my metaphorical big girl panties, I proposed a compromise. “Okay, then. I’ll make you a promise. Give me one week, and I promise to tell you everything.”

  “One day,” he countered, undeterred.

  “Five days.”

  “One day.”

  “This isn’t how bargaining works, Damon. You’re supposed to counter with a better offer.”

  “I countered with my only offer. You’ve never done business with me before, but let me assure you, I’m just as tenacious in every aspect of my life. You know I don’t give up on what I want. And I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you.”

  Oh.

  He took advantage of my inability to form words and leaned in for a kiss. As the lust fog descended, everything else became obscured, including my fears. I wrapped my arms around his neck and melted into him with a small moan. When he finally broke the kiss and pulled away, it was to remind me that he’d be back in twenty-four hours and then all bets were off.

  I shook off his special brand of pheromones just in time to wave goodbye to Tierney as they pulled away from the curb. I let myself into my house, kicking off my shoes and letting my purse land wherever gravity took it. Flopping down onto the couch, I turned on the T.V. just for the sake of having some background noise while I contemplated what was sure to be my demise. In twenty-four hours, Damon was going to declare me ten types of fool and decide he’d made a mistake in being with me. I wondered, irately, how he’d managed to turn the tables on me so deftly. Months ago, I couldn’t stand the arrogant ass, and here I was ready to beg the universe to help me find a way to hang on to him. He’d originally pursued me, but now he’d be the one to reject me.

  After several hours of overthinking, which was only interrupted by short trips to the kitchen or bathroom, I fell into a fitful sleep on the couch and dreamed about the time I’d lost everything.

  ***

  Waking up face down in a puddle of drool was always a good time. I bolted upright, momentarily forgetting where I was. I hated falling asleep on the couch; I always woke up with odd pains and strange fabric creases across my face. Once, I fell asleep on an embroidered novelty pillow April had gifted me for my birthday and woke up with an imprint of a curved dick on my left cheek. By the time the mark had begun to fade, I was on my way into work. By the time it had fully disappeared, it was already second period. That pillow now sat in my linen closet.

  The rest of my morning went as expected considering how it started. I dumped salt in my coffee instead of sugar, snagged my pantyhose getting out of my car, and Stella Sterling gave me a backhanded compliment regarding my ‘natural’ makeup being expertly applied, even if it didn’t cover up the bags under my eyes. It was the Mondayest Monday that ever Mondayed, and I was over it. O.V.E.R. I.T.

  “I’m havin’ a rough day, kiddo. How are you doing?” I sat next to Tierney in the reading nook during lunch, and I wasn’t even ashamed of the fact that I was blatantly hiding.

  “I’m good. Why are you having a rough day?”

  “You ever have one of those days where anything that can go wrong, does?”

  Her little brow furrowed as she contemplated my meaning. “No.”

  “Alrighty, then. Good talk.”

  Neither of us spoke after that, choosing to sit in silence until the bell rang letting us know our time was up.

  After lunch, I presented the class with the three possible projects Tierney and I had decided on for the science fair. I let the kids vote, and the majority ruled on a small, solar-powered robot. I performed a very immature yet very discrete fist pump for Tierney because I knew she was hoping the solar power project would win. She was her father’s daughter after all. The project was technically recommended for third grade students, but my kids were bright, and I had faith in them to slay this competition. Beating the crap out of Miss Sterling’s cl
ass was just rich, decadent buttercream icing on the three-tier death by chocolate cake.

  I made a list of the necessary supplies and promised the class I’d pick them up before assigning some light reading material on the physics of solar power which we’d review together later in the week. As part of the project, the students would be divided into groups, and each group would be responsible for designing a short presentation on some aspect of the project. I’d decide later how those groups would be formed and which topics they’d each present. I hastily added poster board to my list of supplies as an afterthought.

  My students’ excitement spread like lice, and the rest of the afternoon raced by. I weighed my chances and considered the odds of Damon coming to find me if I wasn’t at home when he came over for our talk. Considering Damon’s history of always getting his way and the text he sent me just as school was letting out letting me know that he knew I was thinking of pulling a disappearing act, I wondered if I should start wearing a tin foil hat. His omnipotence was seriously creepy.

  Chapter 29

  Sophie

  Damon arrived just as I was pulling the chicken out of the oven. “How do you keep getting in here?”

  “I have a key.”

  I jerked my chin back. “How did you get a key? I didn’t give you a key.”

  He grinned. “I have my ways.”

  Didn’t I know it? “Damon.”

  “April told me where you hide the spare. I took it, had a copy made, and put the spare back in its hiding place.”

  “That spare key is there for April to use should she need it,” I huffed.