by Hazel Parker
After most people had finished their dinner, the lights dimmed, illuminating only the center of the dance floor in warm-colored light. Martha danced with her husband, something that Anna would later hear they’d taken swing lessons to learn, then shared the dance floor with her husband and his mom to dance with her father. When that dance ended, they opened up the dance floor to everyone, and it populated quickly. Anna turned to Brett with a slightly hopeful expression.
“Do you want to dance?” she asked. Though she didn’t want to dance with him, per se, it would be a nice opportunity not to have to talk to anyone. The music would be loud enough up there that they wouldn’t have to speak to one another, and if they spent most of their night dancing, she wouldn’t have to grin and bear it as Brett’s relatives asked her about their relationship and expected her to speak highly of him. Not to mention, Anna loved dancing.
Unsurprisingly, Brett shook his head. “I’m good,” he said tersely, “but you can go on ahead.” The nice mood from when he’d picked her up seemed to be only temporary, and he was back to thinking about whatever had set him off in her break room at work. That shouldn’t have been surprising: he’d been tense through the wedding and had barely said a word since the ceremony, giving mostly one-word answers to anyone who spoke to him and not going out of his way to chat up any of his relatives, even Eustice. He could be such a child, sometimes.
“Well, fine,” Anna snapped, trying to keep her tone measured and calm. “I think I will.” The music was a fast enough tempo to justify dancing alone, and besides, Martha was still on the floor, so she could join their small pocket of friends if need be. Brett didn’t move to stop her as she stood from the table and went to dance, so she thought that perhaps it was better to spend a little time apart, anyway, to allow him to stop sulking and get his head back in the game. This was the main event, after all, the thing that they’d been practicing for. It was why they’d been spending time together outside of when Eustice was watching and why she’d made such an effort to get to know him.
She wished that she hadn’t done that. Anna had spent all this time getting close to Brett once again, something that she’d known had ended poorly for her once but that she thought she could control this time around. If it were possible, she liked him even more than she had years ago, but to him, she was just a nurse doing a slightly unconventional procedure to care for a terminally ill patient’s feelings. As soon as Eustice passed away and Brett had no reason to have to see her anymore, he would move on once more. He’d quit the job he’d just started, which she had to admit that she was proud of him for getting even if it were just for his grandfather, and he’d go back to doing what he’d always done: sleeping around and partying. He’d given her just enough of a glimpse into his heart and potential that she’d gotten attached, but she had to keep herself in check; it wasn’t forever, and it wasn’t real.
“Anna!” Martha yelled, attacking her with a hug and showing her the wedding band that was now proudly on her hand.
“Congratulations!” Anna managed to cheer despite the now-sour mood she found herself in. “The wedding was beautiful!”
“Aw, thank you, sweetie!” Martha called. Before getting back to her party, she gave Anna another squeeze. “I’m so glad you are here,” she said sincerely.
“Me, too,” Anna lied. As soon as Martha turned back to her husband and friends, Anna began to dance, trying to get lost enough in the music and the party to forget about Brett and knowing that it wouldn’t work.
Chapter Ten: Brett
Brett wasn’t sure why he’d turned down Anna’s offer to dance. Sure, he was terrible at dancing, and though that was the excuse he’d been giving to the relatives that were asking what she was doing dancing without him, he knew that it wasn’t the real reason that he’d told her to go off on her own. The truth was that he knew that a night of dancing with Anna, watching her have a great time and laugh and twirl and joke with him, would be enough to make him fall in love with her. He couldn’t do that and then watch her eagerly abandon him in favor of her old life in a few weeks.
Feeling as he did, Brett was suddenly grateful that his sister and new brother in law had opted for an open bar. He dodged through relatives with promises that he’d be right back and sat down at the bar in one of the chairs, which no one else was using. While other people ordered and took their drinks back to their tables, Brett wanted to sit here for a while, decompress, and not talk to anyone.
“Hi, sweetie,” the bartender, a young woman with a Southern accent, greeted cheerfully, “what are you drinkin’?”
“Whiskey neat,” he replied distractedly, not taking his eyes off Anna as she danced alone on the dance floor. He could see other men eyeing her and knew it was only a matter of time before someone asked her to dance, and with the way he was abandoning her, he wouldn’t blame her if she said yes. The bartender nudged the glass into his hand with a concerned look on her face. She was cute, the type of girl for whom Brett would normally be turning on the charm.
“You alright, hon?” she asked. She had turned to make a vodka tonic for someone who’d just ordered one, but her attention was all his. For some reason, it made him feel like he could talk to her—bartenders always seemed to have that quality.
“Not really,” he admitted, tossing back the whiskey and gesturing to his empty cup for another pour, which she obliged.
“Wanna talk about it?” Brett shook his head, and she gave him a sly, sympathetic smile. “Then it sounds like you might need something a little stronger,” she admitted, pouring a shot of a clear alcohol into a separate glass for him. He chuckled.
“Only if you take one, too,” he promised, and she immediately shook her head.
“Not while I’m working, not of this stuff. Here,” she poured herself a small shot of tonic water. “Solidarity. Doing a shot alone is sad; doing a shot with someone else is just a good time, right?”
Brett toasted her shot glass. “I’ll drink to that,” he said, downing the shot in one mouthful. She was right about it being strong—it was almost enough to make him gag. “Jesus,” he muttered. “What is this, paint thinner?” The bartender laughed.
“That’s funny,” she said, taking the glass away and setting it under the bar with the other dirty glasses. “So, you’re funny, and you’re cute. Why are you sitting at the bar alone? I’m sure you could go dance with any girl in here.”
Brett could already feel the effects of the shot he’d taken, plus the two whiskeys he’d slammed in such a short period of time. His mind was getting a little fuzzy, his inhibitions lower, and he could feel autopilot begin to take over.
“Any girl in here, huh?” he asked, leaning in toward the bartender. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Tasha,” she replied in a low voice. She crossed her arms and rested her weight on them, mirroring is posture so that their faces were close together. “And I mean it: any girl. Take your pick.” Before Brett could give an inevitably flirtatious reply, someone from behind him cleared his throat, and Tasha snapped upright.
“So sorry about that, darlin’,” she apologized, “can I get you a drink?”
“I’m good, thanks,” the person replied, and Brett winced as he recognized the voice as his brother, David.
“Hey, Davey!” Brett greeted as if he hadn’t heard the whole conversation (which he was sure that he had). “How’re you doing? Where’s Geoff?” he asked, looking around for David’s husband.
“We were dancing,” he said, “and we saw Anna all alone. We both decided to go looking for you.”
Brett gestured to the bar. “Well, you found me.” David nodded.
“I did,” he agreed, his tone disapproving. “What the hell are you doing, man? Your girlfriend doesn’t know anyone here; shouldn’t you be sticking with her?”
Brett shrugged indifferently. “Doesn’t sound like any of your business.”
“It is my business,” David disagreed, “because you’re my brother. Just tell me why
you left Anna by herself.”
Rolling his eyes irritably, Brett turned to walk away from his brother and go back to the table where his family was sitting.
“Where are you going? I’m talking to you!” David demanded, but Brett didn’t care. David could yell at him all he wanted later—he wouldn’t make a scene at Martha’s wedding, obviously, and if Brett were lucky, he could probably manage to avoid him for long enough after this that he’d drop the subject entirely. He took his seat next to Eustice once more and tried to pretend that he wasn’t drunk in front of him. Just a few more hours, he told himself, then he could take Anna home and go to bed and not have to think about this whole mess anymore. He could last that long.
Chapter Eleven: Anna
After dancing for quite a while, Anna’s feet hurt from her high heels and she needed a drink. She pulled herself off the dance floor to go to the bar, where she was spotted by Brett’s brother David before she had time to run away and act like she hadn’t seen him.
“Hey, David,” Anna greeted politely, sitting down in the seat next to him. She turned to the bartender with a smile. “I’ll have a Shirley Temple,” she ordered. She didn’t normally get virgin drinks, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to add being drunk to the chaos of the night.
“Anna,” David replied solemnly, “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” Anna felt a little bit of anxiety spike in her veins, but she tried not to show it.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“How long did you say that you and Brett have been going out?” he asked. Anna looked around for Brett, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Don’t worry,” David added, as if her discomfort were obvious, “this isn’t a test.”
She nodded. “A few months,” she said, staying vague for safety’s sake, “why?”
David took a steadying breath. “You can be honest with me,” he told her, reaching out to take her hand in his. “He asked you out after our grandfather checked into Sunny Villa, didn’t he?”
Anna jerked her hand away in surprise. “What’s this about?”
“Anna, you’re a great girl, and you need to know this isn’t personal,” he began, sounding like an echo of several breakups she’d had, “but I think Brett is only pretending to be with you to get back into Eustice’s will.”
Anna’s blood ran cold, and her stomach dropped. “Into the what?” she asked incredulously, suddenly furious. “What will?”
“Our grandfather decided a few months ago that since Brett has never shown any signs of getting his life together and going down a better path than partying and hooking up all the time, that he was going to write him out of the will. I didn’t think that he was planning on telling Brett about it, but I think that maybe he changed his mind and chose to. It’s just a little suspicious, you know? That suddenly Brett would have a girlfriend and a job and this whole new life ahead of him right as Eustice is on his deathbed. I don’t buy it. Brett has never been able to commit to anything in his life, and now he’s Mr. Responsible, out of the blue? It doesn’t add up without the money being part of the equation.”
She was shaking, she realized, though whether it was from anger or shock, she wasn’t sure. The one nice thing she’d thought he was doing for someone, the single selfless thing she’d ever seen him do: it was a lie. It was for his own benefit, just like everything else. She’d known that he didn’t like her; she knew that, but she wouldn’t have put herself through all this if she hadn’t thought that it was for Eustice.
“Where’s Brett?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. David hesitated.
“Anna, maybe me and you should talk about this for a bit. We could go outside, or—”
“Don’t worry, David, I’m not going to make a scene in front of anyone,” she reassured darkly, her eyes already burning with the effort of trying not to cry. She always cried when she was angry. “I just need to talk to him.”
Though he looked like he was still worried, David led her to the table where Brett was sitting with his family, his sulking mood from earlier seemingly gone as he was now jovial and talkative—drunk. Anna could tell just from Brett’s speech and posture that he was drunk, and she tapped him on the shoulder, forcing a cold, fake smile.
“Hello, darling,” she drawled, already planning in her head all the things she was going to say to him when she got him alone. Brett turned to her with a wide, bleary smile, one that seemed genuine but didn’t make Anna feel any better. He’d always liked her much more after he’d had a few drinks.
“Hey, Anna,” he greeted cheerfully, “whassup? Are you havin’ a good time?”
“A great time,” she lied, “but I’ve been dancing so much that my feet hurt. These shoes aren’t so comfortable. I brought some flats, but I left them in your car.” Brett reached into his pocket to hand her the keys, and Eustice beat her to asking him to come with her.
“You’re going to just let your girlfriend out in the parking lot alone?” he questioned disapprovingly. Anna didn’t see the big deal—this was a nice neighborhood, and it was still light outside, and though no one in the Riggs family could ever understand, where she was from, everyone, even the girls, could handle themselves. However, since she wanted to get Brett alone, anyway, she didn’t deliver that speech. Instead, she just took his hand as he stood from the table and wavered ever so slightly from the alcohol, then steered him in the direction of the doors.
“We’ll be right back,” she reassured the table before hustling off.
As soon as the doors of the reception hall closed behind them, Anna whipped around to face Brett, not even making an effort to get to the car. She hadn’t brought extra shoes, anyway: Anna intentionally wore kitten heels to weddings and parties so that she could dance in them without pain.
“When were you going to tell me you were lying to me?” she accused outright, not bothering to elaborate. Brett fumbled, looking confused.
“Lying? About what?”
She rolled her eyes, feeling tears prickling in them once more. She didn’t want to cry, not in front of Brett and definitely not before she finished what she had to say, but she couldn’t help it: this was embarrassing. Her trust had been broken, and she felt used, unimportant, and stupid. God, had he done this because he knew she’d fall for it?
“Cut the crap, Brett,” she demanded. “You didn’t do all this to make Eustice happy; you did it because you were being written out of the will and wanted his money.” At that, Brett paled. It seemed to sober him up a bit, probably from the adrenaline, and he straightened his posture a little and began to shepherd her toward the car. She jerked out of his grip, not wanting him to touch her or lead her or try to calm her down. He’d been in control of all of this from the beginning, and now it was her turn.
“Who told you that?” he asked calmly, so calmly that it infuriated her further.
“That’s not important.”
“Well, whoever it was told you wrong. That’s…not what this is.” He was slurring less, but still a little, and seeming to find it difficult to keep his focus completely on her or to sort his thoughts out. If she weren’t so mad, she might feel a little guilty for having this conversation when he couldn’t properly defend himself.
“So it’s not true? You weren’t told you were written out of Eustice’s will right before you asked me to be your fake girlfriend?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Brett confirmed it by running a nervous hand through his slicked-back hair.
“That part is true,” he admitted.
“Then you’re trying to tell me that the money had nothing to do with it? How dumb do you think I am?”
Brett shook his head. “I don’t think you’re dumb,” he tried to argue. “At first, it was—but it’s not, not anymore. It’s different, now. I’m…I want to…I didn’t know how to—”
“Anna! Brett!” David interrupted them, rushing out the door of the reception hall and running toward them.
“We’re busy,” Anna said, but when she got
a good look at David’s face, she could see that he hadn’t just come to stop them from fighting, but that he was legitimately panicked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Eustice; he passed out at the table, and no one can wake him up. He’s not breathing,” David explained in a rushed tone, and Anna was taking off running back to the reception hall before he could even finish what he was saying, her fight with Brett all but forgotten as all three of them ran inside. The swing band had stopped playing, and the whole room was quiet; clearly, there had been some kind of scene when he’d fainted. Several people were trying to clear the area around him, shouting for everyone else to get back and keep some distance. Anna didn’t listen, shoving right through the crowd and to Eustice’s side. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed, pale and frighteningly still.
