Exhausted from OD-ing on hard-wrought politeness, Edie eventually excused herself to join Maria and Julia by the catering tent with its cucumber sandwiches, single-serving vanilla cakes, and other dainty finger foods that required no silverware and came with little risk of spilling and staining anything. Maria picked at the garnishes while eyeing the cakes. Julia bemoaned her inability to wear ivory. Edie prodded a blister and pined for her sneakers, and they all shared a champagne toast to “looking astonishing.”
Rupert arrived a few minutes later. Edie’d been expecting a dashingly handsome New England stereotype in a turtleneck sweater with a bold maroon H, but Rupert was short, pudgy, and disheveled. The tail of his shirt poked out from beneath his argyle sweater vest. His khaki trousers were too big, bunching up at the back under his belt. His dark hair, gleaming with product, fell over his eyebrows, refusing to be held in place by anything short of shellac. While most Mansfieldians probably disapproved of his lack of polish, Edie liked him instantly for it.
“There’s my beautiful girl!” He swept Maria into a big bear hug.
“Get off! You’ll wrinkle my dress!” Maria gently pushed him away, smoothed out her pleated skirt, and straightened her skinny little belt. “Don’t I look fabulous?” She spun around and struck a pose.
“You look perfect. You always look perfect. She always looks perfect.”
“It’s all for you, sweetheart.” Maria tapped her cheek and allowed Rupert a chaste kiss.
“Isn’t she an angel?” Rupert looked back and forth between Julia and Edie.
Neither girl responded.
“How did I get so lucky?” he continued while beaming. “The prettiest girl in the room—not that we’re in a room, but the prettiest if we were in a room. Well, really very pretty in or out of a room. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, sweetheart. I know what you mean.” Maria linked her arm through Rupert’s, smiling at him as though he were a child who’d just shown her a bug-eyed caterpillar drawing she was anxious to throw away once she’d given it a smattering of praise. “Should we find you a drink and make our rounds?”
“Gosh. Yes. Thanks.” Rupert turned to Edie. “Nice to meet you. Wait. Did I meet you, or did I just imagine I met you? You’re the cousin, right?”
“Yeah. I’m ‘the cousin.’” She managed a smile, despite her mounting frustration at repeatedly being called the girl, the cousin, the poor relation, or anything other than her name. “I’m Edie, and you must be Rupert.”
“You’ll have to excuse us.” Maria pivoted Rupert away before he could respond. “I promised Dear Mama I’d introduce Rupert to those dreadful bores the Bensons. They only talk about two things: investing for retirement and taking care of your teeth. Total yawn-fest, but they’re very generous at weddings.” She dragged Rupert away, smiling and waving until they merged into the crowd.
Edie continued tracking them as she shimmied a blistered heel out of her shoe.
“He’s not what I was expecting,” she said.
“He’s rich and he worships her.” Julia tipped back her champagne and set the empty glass on the table. “He’s everything Maria wants in a boyfriend.”
“Like a house by the ocean and a matching set of spaniels?”
“Sure, but don’t forget the worship.” Julia picked up a new champagne flute and downed half the contents. “Besides, Rupert’s not stupid. He knows she likes him for his money, but he likes her for her looks. She’s like arm candy and he’s like ATM candy.”
Over near the patio, Maria tugged Rupert along by the elbow while he stumbled behind her, spilling white wine on the shrubbery and sputtering apologies to everyone and no one. They seemed like such an odd couple, joined by something that didn’t look much like love. Then again, Edie’s mom had married for love and her marriage hadn’t turned out to be the romance of the century. Maybe beauty and money made a fair trade, but what would happen if one or the other ran out? A violent custody battle over the spaniels? Poor George and Martha.
“Wouldn’t it be amazing to be adored?” Julia absently ran a finger around the rim of her glass until it made a low humming noise. “Not just liked or admired, but totally, utterly worshiped by someone who can’t live without you? Like Romeo and Juliet?”
“Actually, Romeo chased anything that moved,” Edie pointed out. “If the two of them had lived, he would’ve had an affair within the first month.”
As Julia lowered her glass, looking like she was about to cry from sheer heartbreak, a familiar voice reached them from just over Edie’s shoulder.
“Who’s having an affair?”
Edie spun around to see Sebastian standing a few feet away, cleaned up and practically glowing in a white linen shirt and trousers. Edie’s cheeks instantly ignited. She tried to cool them by thinking of non-mortifying things like Post-its and banana peels while Julia stepped in front of her and placed a kiss on each of Sebastian’s cheeks.
“I thought you’d never get here. Remember my cousin Edie?”
“Of course. How could I forget Cousin Edie?”
“We saw each other yesterday,” Edie explained, anxious to keep Julia from making assumptions about crushes and kisses. “He doesn’t mean, well, you know.”
“Totally.” He flashed her a glimmer of a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of implying you-know.”
Edie’s cheeks flared again. So much for banana peels.
“Oh, good. We’re all friends already.” Julia linked an arm through each of theirs. “We can skip the small chat and get straight to business.”
“Business?” Edie and Sebastian swapped a wary look.
“Maria and I promised Edie a spectacular night. It’s a Cinderella thing. She’s in a gorgeous dress—even if we had to force her into it—and she’s at a ball—okay, not a ball, but a party with a place to dance, if you like old people’s music. Now she just needs a Prince Charming.”
Edie froze. For someone raised in polite society, Julia sure hadn’t mastered the art of subtlety. And if she was going to force Edie on a guy, why did she have to pick Sebastian? The one person who turned Edie from a sane, articulate, physically coordinated individual into a stuttering, stammering blush factory?
Then Julia made things worse.
“Can you introduce her to some of your friends?”
Edie freed herself from Julia’s hold as her mind raced, scrambling for a reason she could flee. Being set up with Sebastian was bad enough, but being set up by him? Utter nightmare. Then again, why didn’t Julia include Sebastian as a setup option?
“You must know someone single,” Julia said, “and smart. He has to be smart to keep up with Edie.”
“I don’t know about smart, but I know a certain ‘nice guy’ who’d be happy to share a dance.” Sebastian held out a hand. “Shall we?”
After a slight hesitation, Edie took his hand. After all, she did want to dance with him. She also wanted to not want to dance with him. Why couldn’t emotions line up as neatly as Norah’s lawn chairs? Why were they such experts at contradicting each other? Jerks.
Sebastian led Edie over to the patio, where he wrapped his arms around her in a loose, uncertain embrace. She linked her hands behind his neck and they began to turn in slow circles amid half a dozen other couples. The music was vaguely waltz-y, gently merging with the sounds of the murmuring crowd and the crickets that were starting to chirp as the sun set and the candles flickered brighter. It was a perfectly romantic setting (for anyone who cared about such things).
“So, Julia suggests we get straight to business.” Sebastian’s smile tilted up and dimpled a cheek.
Edie averted her eyes to stave off another blush. It was so unfair. If he insisted on growing up to be nice, funny, and smart, why couldn’t he have the decency to be hideously ugly? If she only looked at his shoulder, or that little freckle on his collarbone, maybe she could get through one dance without thoroughly embarrassing herself. Except it was a really nice shoulder. The freckle was pretty cute too.
&n
bsp; “Please ignore everything my cousins say about me from now until August,” she begged. “Especially regarding my supposed need for a boyfriend.”
“Don’t worry.” Sebastian laughed, a soft, low rumble like a barely tapped kick drum. “I won’t introduce you to anyone unless you ask me to, but what happens in August?”
“College. Independence. The beginning of everything.”
“Everything?” His brow furrowed briefly. “So, nothing’s begun yet?”
“Nothing important.”
“Hmm. Good to know.” Sebastian went quiet for a moment, leaving Edie with the sinking suspicion she’d just said something wrong. As she searched his face, looking for clues, he glanced toward the central courtyard, where his mom was slipping her arm through the elbow of a square-jawed, stern-faced man in a navy suit. “Guess you and I are both itching to leave home.” He shuffled past an elderly couple, pulling Edie toward him to avoid a collision.
“Parent troubles?” Edie shifted closer to Sebastian to avoid nothing at all.
“They’re okay, just, you know, high expectations, low tolerance for disappointment.” He shrugged and shook his head at the same time, resigned but not. “I’m ready to make my own choices, and to be where I’m not ‘Tom’s little brother’ anymore.”
“I don’t think of you that way.”
“A lot of other people do.”
“Maybe not the right people?” Edie ventured.
“No. Maybe not the right people.” He smiled down at her, warmly, sweetly, sincerely.
The music from the string quartet swelled as Edie hid another blush by focusing on her feet where her shoes alternated with his. They looked nice, those toes: hers black velvet, his perforated brown leather, gently stepping side to side, unaware of how close they were to each other. For a full minute Edie and Sebastian danced without speaking while his simple closeness made her temporarily stop obsessing about things like blisters, absent friends, college tuition, and the reasons octopuses ate their own appendages. As an elderly couple waltzed past with enviable flourish, Sebastian tightened his hold—not much, but enough for Edie to notice and respond in kind.
“So, where are you heading when you begin all your beginnings?” he asked.
“UMass Boston, probably.” Edie’s answer came out flat. Despite her early admission and partial scholarship, she was a little embarrassed to be choosing her school based on affordability rather than ambition, especially while she was among people who had trust funds, stock portfolios, and stepdads with an inside scoop on the chicken-sacrifice admissions policy. “Where are you going?”
“NYU. My stepdad expects me to pursue a law degree but I hope to take some writing classes.” Sebastian grimaced as he pulled away a little.
Edie held on tight, anxious to prevent his retreat.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t believe I just said that out loud, especially to someone I . . . someone I don’t know that well. I feel like I’m jinxing it by even saying the words.”
“I think it’s great.” Edie risked drawing him a little closer, sliding her fingers to overlap her wrists, in case it made him more comfortable, and in case he almost said what she really, really hoped he’d almost said. “You should do what you love.”
Sebastian’s arms adjusted to her nearness, one hand sliding up toward her shoulder blade, the other circling more of her waist. Definitely more comfortable.
“I don’t know if it’s great, but I feel like I’ve got something to say. I just don’t know how to say it yet.” He leaned back and met her eyes. “Ever have that feeling?”
“All the time.”
She drew him closer. He drew her closer. They inched toward each other, circle by circle, until her cheek brushed his shoulder without quite resting there. The almost-ness of it all was better than salted chocolate marshmallows, better than front row seats to Moody Clockwork, better than anything. Edie rapidly edited her No Boys plan. Liking Sebastian wasn’t going to prevent her from getting straight-As and earning the rest of her tuition money. She just needed to like him . . . in moderation. Was that possible? That was totally possible, though the fact that he smelled all citrusy and soapy wasn’t helping.
She closed her eyes and pictured white linen sheets billowing on a clothesline in a perfect summer breeze. Cotton dander floated in soft light. A hand drew aside the closest sheet as Sebastian chased her, slow motion, through the laundry lines, laughing, teasing, catching her at last in a perfect embrace, and then leaning forward to place a—
“Let me guess.” His lips were perilously close to her ear now, a voice not just heard but felt: deep, low, and with the perfect hint of an unseen smile. “You’re planning to study art?”
“Art?” Edie blinked up him, confused. “No. Why?”
“I figured with your love of Rodin—”
Edie backed away. Her mouth dropped open but words failed to emerge. She knew she had something to say. She just didn’t know how to say it. She simply stood there, mortified, as her brain sped through thoughts of soft lips, gentle hands, and a seriously inconvenient sprinkler head.
“Did you think I’d forgotten?” he teased.
“Yes!” she blubbered through a nervous laugh.
“Forget my first kiss? Never.”
Edie began to fidget, unsure why she was so embarrassed. That kiss was years ago. Two kids fumbling around. But the more she thought about it, and the more he might be thinking about it, the more she’d think about other kisses, too. Those thoughts led to blushes and crushes and everything else she was trying to rein in.
“C’mon.” Sebastian extended a hand. “Let’s finish our dance.”
“Only if you pretend it never happened.”
“I’d rather not.” He took a step toward her, his hand still outstretched, his eyes calm and direct, holding her the way his arms had held her: full of delightful, delicious, dreamy almosts.
Whether he was flirting, teasing, or simply being friendly, Edie fell into the spell of his pale blue eyes and kind heart. She shook off her nerves and slipped her hand into his. Sebastian’s fingers wrapped around hers. He smiled. She smiled. And Edie decided this wasn’t the time to rein anything in. It wasn’t the time for questions and doubts. It was simply the time to dance.
Chapter Six
* * *
The booming bass of loud hip-hop music drowned out the string quartet as a flashy red sports car sped into the Summerses’ driveway and squealed to a halt beside the house.
Sebastian dropped his embrace. “Does he always have to make an entrance?”
“Your brother?” Edie asked.
“Yep. C’mon. Let’s go say hi.”
Sebastian led Edie off the patio as the car door opened and Tom stepped out, sweeping his long brown bangs off his forehead with the back of his hand, reminding Edie of the way he used to fight with his mom whenever Mrs. Summers tried to make him get a haircut. He wore a fancy printed tux jacket, tight jeans, a tighter T-shirt, and a pair of plastic flip-flops, as though he didn’t give a damn what kind of party he was going to. He removed his mirrored sunglasses as he walked around the car with a cool strut so pronounced it almost demanded background music.
He swung open the passenger door and let out a beautiful blond girl in a bright red mini-dress. Edie suspected that the girl hadn’t required help squeezing into the dress, but she’d have plenty of volunteers if she needed help getting out of it. As she stood, she took Tom’s sunglasses, put them on, and planted a long, passionate kiss on him. It not only demanded background music, it suggested the need for a content warning.
“That’s quite an entrance, all right.” Edie glanced around at the now quieter party, wondering how it would feel to enjoy being the center of attention.
“That’s nothing.” Sebastian continued leading her through the garden, weaving his way between guests, hedgerows, and tastefully draped cupid statues. “Last time Tom visited, he brought the entire women’s volleyball team.”
<
br /> Edie and Sebastian stepped out of the crowd and onto the gravel path that paralleled the Summerses’ driveway from the back of the property to the road out front. Only a few yards away, on the other side of the white picket fence, the entangled couple continued searching for something at the back of each other’s throats. When they showed no signs of ceasing their exploration, Sebastian coughed.
Tom turned toward the noise, a grin spreading across his face.
“Hey, little brother!” He reached over the fence and gave Sebastian one of those energetic man hugs with lots of back patting. Then his eyes caught Edie’s. “Holy shit! Edie Price! I heard you were back. Look at you, all grown up. Wowza!”
Edie started to wave but her arm was soon pressed against her chest as Tom enveloped her in a big, friendly hug. Awkward? Check. Bashful? Double check. Sulky? Actually, still a little fluttery from her dance with Sebastian.
“Guys, this is Jess.” Tom wrapped an arm around her waist, casually possessive. “Jess, this is Edie and my little brother, Sebastian.”
“I wouldn’t call him little.” Jess dabbed at the saliva on her lips.
“Don’t let his height fool you.” Tom winked, still grinning. “Six foot two but he still climbs trees, reads books about cowboys and aliens, and can’t finish an ice cream cone before it melts all over him.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Jess ran a thumb across her lower lip. “There are worse things than licking sticky fingers.”
Sebastian sputtered out a cough while Tom bellowed with laughter and Edie tried to think about anything nonsexual: burnt toast, dust bunnies, arid sand dunes, making out with Sebastian. Dammit.
A cute little orange convertible pulled into the Summerses’ driveway and parked behind Tom’s car.
“Well, look who’s here,” Tom said. “Fashionably late, as always.”
Hearts, Strings, and Other Breakable Things Page 4