by Elia Winters
“Who is this guy?” Lori asked Geoff, grinning.
Geoff was staring up at Patrick with the most ridiculous, enamored smile on his face, like Patrick was the only guy in the world. Watching the two of them together, Lori felt warm all over. She wasn’t just on the outside looking in. She was part of this, somehow, and the thought was sobering and comforting at once.
“You want to do a duet with me?” Geoff asked. “I swear, I’m a good partner.”
Lori raised an eyebrow, then shook her head and turned back to her drink. “Ask me when I’ve had, like, three more of these.” She held up her glass and drank more. “And I’ll tell you no again.”
Patrick had energized the whole room, and the next few singers did similarly upbeat pieces before it was Geoff’s turn. He strode to the front of the room with casual gravitas, the way he probably walked up to the front of his classroom: like he owned the place.
The song started, a familiar guitar riff that Lori would know anywhere. She had to laugh as Geoff struck a pose and began loudly, enthusiastically singing “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes. By the time he got to the refrain, the “hey yeah yeah yeah” part, everybody was singing along with him.
She leaned over to Patrick, who was sitting beside her, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd. “I thought you said he couldn’t sing! He’s really good.” Just as she finished speaking, Geoff hit a sour note and just kept going. “Okay, he’s pretty good,” she amended, and Patrick laughed.
“We have fun.” Patrick tossed back the last of his drink. “Isn’t that what it’s all about?”
They passed the evening with cabinet arcade games in between Patrick and Geoff’s repeated trips to the front of the bar to sing karaoke. Lori died endlessly playing Galaga but found her groove in Ms. Pac-Man, enough to make it to the leaderboard by the time she lost her last life.
“You’re too young for this game.” Geoff watched her enter her initials into the “Top Ten” screen. “How are you so good at it?”
“The laundromat near Smith has one of these.” Lori finished and stepped back with a flourish. “When I was in undergrad, I spent as many quarters on this baby as I did on the wash.”
“A woman of many talents.” Geoff gestured to the front of the room. “You sure singing’s not one of them? I won’t ask again.”
“Don’t ask again.” She waved him off. “Go on, have fun.”
He and Patrick finished the evening just past midnight with a surprisingly touching duet of “Islands in the Stream” that brought the room to applause. Most of the people were more than halfway to drunk, except Geoff, who was driving them home that night. By the time they staggered out into the Tokens parking lot a little after midnight, Lori was a giggly mess and Patrick had taken to singing songs he didn’t know all the words to and making up alternatives.
“Geoff!” Patrick interrupted himself midsong, leaning on the car door. “Come here and let me kiss you.”
Geoff went willingly.
“And you.” Patrick dragged her into the embrace. Surprised, Lori let him pull her up against the two of them, and when he kissed her—lazy and sweet, a sleepy drunk kiss—she kissed back. They hadn’t kissed this week, hadn’t slept together, and her body thrummed with the desire for something. Turning to the side, she switched from kissing Patrick to Geoff, and then back again, relishing the press of lips and tongue and the overwhelming confusion of not knowing who was who with her eyes closed.
A catcall from behind her made them break the kiss.
“Get a room!” somebody shouted.
“Eat shit!” Patrick called back, but he was grinning in such a way that Lori couldn’t help but grin back. They stared at one another like three fools, and she couldn’t be happier. Or maybe that was just the booze talking.
Geoff broke the silence. “Come to P-town with us next weekend.”
Lori blinked. She wasn’t sober enough for this conversation. “What?”
“Provincetown. Last weekend you said you’ve never been. We’ve got a king suite at a B and B within walking distance of Commercial Street. Let us take you there.”
Lori looked over to Patrick. “Did you know he was gonna ask me this?”
Patrick shrugged, the movement slower than normal. “We talked about it last night. I think it’s a good idea. We both love having you around.”
Her impulse was to say yes, immediately, but she forced that impulse back. She was drunk, and she’d spent five glorious days in a row with these guys, and she wasn’t in the best place to make a decision. “Let me think about it.”
“Think about it.” Geoff touched his forehead to hers lightly, a gesture so intimate, it took her breath away.
The moment passed. They disentangled limbs and piled into the car, Lori in the back seat this time. Patrick kept trying to get handsy with Geoff while he drove, which they all found supremely hilarious because Geoff kept rebuffing him.
“Ask him about the time I blew him in the car after ice cream,” Patrick announced.
“What?” Lori leaned forward. “Geoff, is this true? But road safety!”
Geoff gave a long-suffering sigh. “I plead the Fifth.”
The stars outside shone brightly in the clear night, and with the windows down, the wind whipped Lori’s curls around her face. She was with Geoff and Patrick. She’d had a pretty damn good week. And maybe next weekend she’d go to Provincetown.
Whatever the future might hold, tonight everything was all right.
Lori stared at the mountain of odds and ends piled up in Hannah’s basement with her hands on her hips. “This is a lot of shit.”
“I know.” Hannah brushed the back of her hand over her forehead. “I told myself I’d finish decluttering before we move, but I’ve been waiting to pack up boxes until today.”
“I am uncertain exactly what you expect me to do, and why you expect me to do it with no pizza.”
“Pizza’s coming. Help me pack this shit up. It’s all getting donated.” Hannah waved her arm at the expanse of basement. Items were piled up in stacks like stalagmites. Lori grimaced at the pile closest to her. At least she’d put her hair up for this. She should have brought a bonnet too.
“Don’t give me that look.” Hannah gave her friend a gentle shove. “I’ll be doing the same thing for you when you move.”
“If I move, you mean.” Lori took a tape gun and set up one of the boxes for packing. “It’s been weeks, and nobody’s written back.”
“Did you follow up?”
“Sure did. On the phone like an adult. Got a few nos. Two places told me they were on a hiring freeze because of budget cuts, and the others said they were still considering and to wait.” She sighed. “It’s not all bad. I’ve been having fun here in Mapleton in the meantime.”
Hannah nodded knowingly, filling her own box. “Is this why you’ve been so bad about returning my texts this week? All that dick you’ve been getting?”
Lori snorted. “I have not gotten any dick this week, thank you very much.” She paused. “We’ve been going on dates.”
“Dates, really?” Hannah smiled. “That’s cute, actually.”
“It is. A few nights ago, they took me to sing karaoke.”
Hannah paused. “But you don’t sing karaoke.”
“I know, but they do.” Lori shrugged. “And look at you. Finally getting ready to move in with Ben and Mitchell.”
Hannah bit her lip. “I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it, but as the months passed, it seemed like the next logical step.”
“Who brought it up?”
“Mitchell, of course.” Out of the two men Hannah was dating, Mitchell was the most practical one. “He pointed out homes in the area and calculated how easy they’d be to afford. He even mapped it out: one shared bedroom, and two spares for work or for days when we want to sleep apart. He’d done a spreadsheet of contributing factors.” Hannah got a distant look in her eyes when she was talking about her partners, complete with a dopey smile on her fa
ce. “I love that man.”
Lori could hardly believe that within a year, Hannah had gone from uncertainty about a polyamorous relationship to planning on buying a house with two men. “I’m happy for you.”
Hannah came back to reality. “Thanks. It’s still a bit strange to think about.”
“How’d your parents take it?”
“Surprisingly well.” Hannah finished filling one box and taped it up. “They’re both pretty liberal hippies, so that’s a plus.” She tossed the tape gun to Lori. “So, all that dating. Things getting serious with your guys?”
“They’re not my guys.” Lori aggressively taped up the box. “They’re each other’s guys who happen to be spending time with me as well.”
“A lot of time with you,” Hannah corrected.
Lori moved onto another box. “They invited me to go with them to Provincetown this weekend.”
“Ooh, they’ve got a great sex shop out in P-town.” Hannah perked up immediately. “You should check it out for me. See how they’re merchandizing product.”
“I didn’t say I was going.”
“Well, what did you say?”
“I told them I’d think about it.”
“And?”
“And I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve never been, and it sounds fun. Time away, swimming in the ocean, fresh lobster…” She kept her attention on the box so she wouldn’t have to see Hannah’s expression. When Hannah didn’t say anything, though, Lori looked up. Hannah had this sweet, endearing smile on her face that was fairly disgusting. “Don’t give me that look.” Lori tossed the tape gun back.
Hannah spoke slowly, like she was carefully choosing her words. “Are you sure you want to move to New York?”
Lori busied herself in the work of loading boxes, because it was something do with her hands, and nervous energy had begun to spark all throughout her body. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “If I don’t get offered any of these jobs, maybe I’ll stick around for another year or so. Take on more clients at Relationship Therapy Associates.” The idea brought up mixed feelings as she said it out loud. “It’s not what I want to be doing, but I figure, another year and I’ll have a better idea where things stand. Maybe less. Maybe six months.” She didn’t have to say, By then I’ll know if they’re sick of sharing their marriage with me.
“Sure.” Hannah sounded encouraging. “Lots can change in a short period of time.”
Lori nodded. Lots of things already had changed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
17
“I can’t believe the dunes.”
Geoff looked in the rearview mirror at Lori’s exclamation, smiling at the sight of her nearly pressed against the car window. “They’re huge, right?”
“I wish you could see the ocean past them. Can you see it if you climb them?” She shifted to look back up front, practically bouncing.
In the passenger seat, Patrick snorted. “Yes, you can. Our first year here, Geoff made me climb one. They are giant and sandy and exhausting.”
“I’d still hike one with you, if you wanted to see,” Geoff offered. “But we usually drive out to the ocean instead.”
Lori’s excitement was palpable, and it made Geoff smile. She’d seemed unsure about this trip, and he was glad she was here. Who knew what the future held, anyway, and they might as well enjoy all the time together they could. It wasn’t like this was going to be a repeat thing. Besides, everybody in Massachusetts should experience Provincetown in high summer at some point in their lives.
Geoff couldn’t help seeing the landmarks for the first time, through Lori’s eyes, as they drove down the ever-narrowing stretch of Route 6 out to the very tip of the Cape. The colorful houses with salt-blasted shingles lining the bay side of the road, the marshy expanses in between breathtaking rolling dunes, the displays of buoys and lobster traps on rooftops—everything was so quintessentially Cape Cod.
“You’ve never been to the Cape at all, or just never been to P-town?” Geoff asked. It was unfathomable that she’d lived in Massachusetts for so long without ever going to the Cape at all, unless she hated the ocean.
“Just P-Town. I’ve been to other parts, but never this far. I forget how big the Cape is. You guys come here every year?”
“We try to,” Patrick answered. “We went the first summer we were dating, and ever since then, it’s been a tradition. It’s the same every year, but that’s kind of the charm.”
Lori nodded, and in the rearview mirror, her expression was wistful. “Never had a place like that. Just…always on the move.”
She exclaimed over an egret flying over the marshes, and Geoff let her happy comments fill the silence as they approached their turnoff into Provincetown.
The king suite at their B and B had begun to feel like a home away from home after all these yearly visits. They’d loved it on the first stay and kept coming back. Geoff’s nostalgia threatened to overwhelm him as he stepped into the room and inhaled the scent of clean linens and salt air. The balcony doors were open, and from their vantage point, they could see the faintest hint of water out beyond the town.
Lori dropped her bag and went to the balcony immediately, while Patrick busied himself pulling out the sofa bed. Not that Geoff could imagine they’d use it much. Having Lori cuddled in bed between him and Patrick had been an unexpected pleasure of her sleepover last game night. She was all soft skin and sweet smell, and while she slept, she made these adorable noises of contentment. Geoff had woken up in the middle of the night and stayed awake just to listen. Having that again, all weekend, felt like an undeserved luxury.
Lori spun to face them through the balcony French doors. “What should we do? Do we go to the beach, go shopping, what?”
Patrick neatly laid the extra pillow out on the sofa bed and stood to admire his handiwork. “We can do whatever you want. You’re the new one here.”
“And you’re the experts. Tell me what you usually do while you’re here.” Lori bypassed the sofa bed and flopped down on the giant king-sized bed.
He wanted to show her everything, all at once. “I think we have to do Commercial Street first. Do you like lobster? We can get lobster.”
“I love all fish and shellfish.”
“And then tomorrow, maybe the beach?” Geoff looked to Patrick. “What do you think? Think we can get a burning permit?”
“If we get there early enough, sure.” Patrick was looking between the two of them, his expression soft. Geoff could see the tender thoughts behind those eyes. That was dangerous; if they let tender thoughts overtake them, the end of this would break their hearts.
“Come on.” Geoff grabbed Lori’s hand and tugged her off the bed. “Don’t get settled. There’s so much to see.”
She smiled at his enthusiasm and let him drag her to her feet. “Okay, okay. Let me grab my wallet.”
Commercial Street wound through downtown Provincetown, framed by touristy T-shirt shops, restaurants, art galleries, bars, and clubs, and Geoff knew the history of everything. He’d learned it little by little, picking up details on each visit, and he pointed out what he knew as they walked along toward the Lobster Pot restaurant. He was halfway through a story about the origins of the invasive rugosa rose shrub when he noticed Patrick laughing, right past Lori’s shoulder.
Puzzled, Geoff stopped. “What?”
Patrick shook his head. “You. I didn’t realize how much you knew about P-town.”
Another person might feel self-conscious, but Geoff would never feel self-conscious about his depth of knowledge. “I’m a history professor, Patrick. Even if this isn’t my area of expertise.”
“I love it.” Lori looked up at him, fondness in her dark eyes. She wasn’t humoring him either; she really seemed to love his stories, and his heart unfolded like a flower inside his chest.
Geoff took her hand, and on her other side, Patrick did the same. They walked along like that, side by side on the sidewalk, maneuvering around other passersby, an
d Lori prompted him to continue his story.
The Lobster Pot, as always, delivered on delicious food in a beautiful ambiance overlooking the harbor. Lori proclaimed that she’d never had a meal that good, and that she couldn’t possibly eat anything else, but then dragged them to an ice cream shop for dessert anyway. They walked through the Whaler’s Wharf, an open-air market that led right down to the shore, and sat on benches to watch seagulls winging their way across the sky in the gathering twilight.
“I’m starting to think ice cream might be a thing with us.” Lori drew her tongue around another loop of soft-serve, and Geoff forgot what he was going to say for a minute.
“A thing? Do we have things now?” Patrick leaned over to Geoff. “Did you hear this, Geoff? We’ve got a thing.”
“I like things.” Geoff turned back to his own ice cream, crunching into the cone. The three of them had this comfortable rhythm together, and it was both peaceful and easy. Was it supposed to be this easy? He could sidestep effortlessly into this new pattern, fit Lori into his routine like she was meant to be there. For a moment, he closed his eyes and imagined her coming home to them, or settling into bed between them, or reading in the breakfast nook while Patrick practiced violin and he whipped up some new baked good in the kitchen.
The voice in the back of his head reminded him that she was leaving, this was impermanent, and besides, he didn’t want to complicate his life. This weekend, though, he could pretend.
“—the sex shop.”
Geoff perked up at that. Lori and Patrick had been talking, and he’d somehow tuned them out.
“The one down at the end of the street, near the pizza shop?” Patrick nodded. “It’s nice. You want to go in there?”
“Hell yes, I do.” Lori licked another bit of ice cream. “I promised Hannah I’d do research into how they were merchandising.”
“Is she going to be jealous if you cheat on her shop with another?” Patrick stroked his beard, looking comically serious. “It’s important to negotiate these boundaries ahead of time.”
