"I've had this," she said. "I actually found it at a secondhand shop in D.C. a couple of years ago. I bought it as wishful thinking that I'd wear it to the next inauguration ball."
"Get real. A fortieth anniversary party at a country club on the South Coast of Massachusetts beats an inauguration ball any day," I teased.
"It might." She ran a finger down the front of my shirt, saying, "I like this look on you. Not more than your everyday look but I like it. Where do you even hide your Swiss Army knife?"
I patted my side pocket. "Right here."
"Ah. Very good. Never know when we'll need the aid of the Swiss Army."
"Isn't that the truth," I murmured. "And you're sure you don't want to spend the night down there?"
A thoughtful wrinkle in her brow, she glanced up at me. "You said it's only an hour from here?"
"Yeah, about that."
"No, I'd rather come home at the end of the night. I like it here. And I have a few calls in the morning, on the early side. Preston has a list of people he wants to put me in contact with but he wants to prime me on all of them first which is great, really, it is, but I'd be fine with just the list."
I stared at Jasper for a moment, waiting for her to realize she'd called this home. I didn't even care about the ex-husband who couldn't decide between hounding and abandonment. I'd care about that later but right now, I needed her to acknowledge she wasn't staying at my place or Midge's place, she was at home.
"If that's what you want," I said. "To come back home after the party."
She rubbed her thumb over the shiny buttons running down the front of my shirt. They weren't called buttons but that didn't matter. The sun was inside my chest and my grin was too big, much too big, and it was slightly, potentially, completely possible that I loved her. Nothing else mattered. "Yeah, that sounds good. We don't have time to pack up for the night anyway."
"Peach. How many times have I told you that pajamas are unnecessary?"
"They might not be but I'm not interested in walking out of a hotel in the morning wearing a dress from the night before," she said. "I'm finished with the scandal life, you know."
I nodded because I didn't know what else to do. "Then we'll come home."
I spent the next hour listening and murmuring at all the right moments while Jasper told a seven-part story about the people she worked with on the senator's first reelection campaign. She'd spoken to one of them recently and caught up on old times.
Contrary to Jasper's belief that all her allies had deleted her number, there were plenty of people who reached out to her with frequency. It wasn't that she was dismissive of those people but it was that she expected people to walk away from her. The ones who didn't were the anomalies, not the rule.
I didn't follow her story, not all the way, but I noticed how Jasper talked about her work with the senator. It wasn't tinged with bitterness or resentment, or even the wistful fondness I'd picked up on certain occasions. It was remarkably past tense, much in the way people talked about the good old days of high school or college. It was over for her.
And that meant she could stay. Not simply because Midge's cottage was uninhabitable and my house was home but because she didn't have to return to that world. She didn't have to leave. She could stay here and we could—god, I didn't even know what came after that. Anything could come next, anything.
"It was like a family," she said, her words warm with nostalgia. "Some people have theater production families, some people—like Zelda—have summer camp families. I had campaign families."
Had.
"That's really cool," I said as I turned down the country club's driveway. A tight line of excessively pruned hydrangeas gleamed woody and leafless in the headlights and I was reminded of my sister and the partnership she wanted to form with me. Not tonight though. We'd get to that another time.
"Speaking of which." Jasper flipped down the visor and studied her reflection in the tiny mirror. "What are the chances we'll have a repeat of that awkward moment at your parents' house?"
"Which one?"
"You know what I'm talking about," she chided. "When I was that woman from the television."
I swung into a parking spot, saying, "Zero chances. I've handled it."
"What does that mean? You've handled it? What did you handle?"
I studied Jasper out of the corner of my eye. She didn't need to know about the phone call my father received from me the morning after that gathering or the extremely clear boundaries I cemented into place. She definitely didn't need to know I railed at him for at least fifteen minutes about calling her that woman and how I didn't bring guests to the family table for them to meet a firing squad.
"I asked my father to use some discretion," I said. "And make sure his friends do too."
"You didn't have to do that."
"Maybe not. I did it anyway."
She glanced over at me and it was clear she wanted to push back. But then she said, "Thank you."
"Anytime." I pointed at her door. "Now, listen. You don't wait for me to open your door but you're doing it tonight."
"And why would I entertain such a thing?"
"Because you're all dressed up and I'm not going to let you step in a puddle or catch your skirt on the door. Argue all you want but I'll lock you in here if I have to."
She snapped the visor back into place. After a pause that made me wonder whether she'd fling herself out of the truck right now, just to piss me off, she said, "All right. I'll let you help me. This time."
"This time," I echoed.
"Mmhmm."
I climbed out and came around, more than a little surprised to find her in the passenger seat rather than smirking at me from the blacktop. I opened the door and settled one arm around her waist, the other behind her knees, and scooped her out of the truck.
"I will never get used to this," she said, a giggle bursting over her pale pink lips. "I just can't."
"That's okay," I murmured to her neck. "Just get used to it for right now."
I set her down, holding on a moment longer than necessary. She smelled as lovely as always but the familiarity of that scent caught me off guard. How long had it been since that scent was new to me? And how long since it had become an everyday part of my life?
"Oh, it's chilly here," she said, hugging her arms close to her body.
"Yeah, let's get you inside." I grabbed my tuxedo jacket from the truck and steered Jasper toward the main entrance. "If you want to leave early, just give me the signal."
"What's the signal?"
"Trust me. I'll know. Your face reads like a book."
She glanced up at me when I tucked her hand into the crook of my elbow and led her up the steps. "I guess I've lost my poker face. It used to be legendary."
"You still have it. I can just see past it."
She started to respond but we found ourselves sandwiched between Rob and Magnolia and Ash and Zelda.
"Ah, I see we're operating on triplet time tonight," Rob said. "Could the three of you circle up and decide on a departure time? I've been awake for two days."
Magnolia shot him a broad smile, saying, "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes."
Rob said to us, "I had to go to London."
"For a day," Magnolia said with a laugh. "Not even a day. Four hours. A meeting."
He bobbed his head. "Yeah. That's true. But I closed the deal which means I shouldn't have any other deals to worry about this year and the babies can come any time they want."
"Not any time," she replied.
"You know what I mean," he said. "And now that's handled, I'm going to fall asleep on your shoulder during dinner, wife."
"It's a good thing you're pretty, Russo," she said to him.
"Don't we look gorgeous," Zelda sang as she hooked elbows with Magnolia and Jasper. She eyed Jasper's dress with appreciation. "You were right about not needing any of the dresses we made you try on. This is just breathtaking."
"It really is," Magnolia a
greed.
"Thank you," Jasper said.
Ash glanced at the great stone hearth complete with a roaring fire and club chairs stationed in front of it. "Do you think we could skip out on the part where we remind all of Mom and Dad's friends where we live, what we do, and whether we've kept in contact with their kids and just hang out here instead? Or—"
"There you are," my mother called, huffing and clucking as she marched over.
"Probably not," Ash muttered.
"Why are you standing around out here like a bunch of loiterers?" She waved us away from the entry and led us down a thickly carpeted hall. "There we go, yes, you too, Robert. Have some tequila, it will wake you up."
"I don't think that's accurate," my sister said.
"It won't hurt to try," Mom replied. "Enough with the scowling, Linden, and Ash, stop making that face. People will think you have an ulcer."
"I might," he murmured.
"You don't," Mom said with a definitive shake of her head. "Zelda, dear, you are just glowing. Is there anything you'd like to tell me? A very special anniversary gift perhaps?"
"Mom. What the fuck?" Ash snapped.
Zelda glanced at him as she ran a hand down her belly. "I look pregnant?"
He rubbed his temples. "No, love, you don't."
"I think it's just the new shimmery highlighting stick," Zelda said to Mom, gesturing to her cheekbones. "That's all. I promise."
"Well, I can't have all my dreams come true, can I?" Mom mused. "Oh, and Jasper. Aren't you a treasure tonight. My word." She hit me with an approving grin. "One of the best anniversary gifts of all."
At the reappearance of my mother's terrible Southern accent, I said, "Enough of that."
"All right, all right." She looked us over with a grim smile as if the six of us barely passed muster. She did this when we were small, before sending us off to school in the mornings. "Magnolia, dear, you also look beautiful but you'd look so much better if you smiled. Try that, would you? Just remember, carrying triplets is more difficult than twins." She glanced around our group, saying, "In you go. Mingle. Have fun."
My mother darted inside the ballroom, her sequined dress shining after her.
Magnolia said, "It's so wonderful when she's lost her mind. Like, it's entertaining in a mildly toxic way."
Ash shook his head. "Why is she so chippy?"
"Because throwing big events is so stressful," Jasper said. "It's so much coordination and there are always last minute problems. Even when we hired event planners, I still ended up managing something and eating nothing. You have to force yourself to stop working and let things happen." She sent a quick glance around the group. "I don't know, I'm just saying it's really difficult. Whenever I was steering the ship, I know I was terrible to the people working with me. Your mom probably expected the country club's event coordinator to handle everything and didn't hire an additional coordinator to make sure it all got done to her liking."
There was a collective moment of sheepishness before Magnolia said, "I'll stop grousing about being ninety-four months pregnant with these precious little mountain trolls and schmooze with the grown-ups if someone keeps my husband awake and away from the tequila."
"But that sounded like such a winning idea," Rob said.
"Never a good idea," Zelda said as she steered Magnolia and Jasper into the ballroom. "Never ever."
"No tequila, no complaining," Ash murmured. "Got it."
"Nothing we can't handle." I clapped Ash and Rob on the backs. "Isn't that right, children?"
I hated small talk—obviously—though I usually muddled through these types of parties by letting my sister do all the talking or pretending to be extremely interested in the random things other people had to say.
That was before Jasper.
I still hated small talk but now I had the kraken queen of bullshitting with the best of them on my arm and there was no overstating how much I loved watching Jasper work a crowd. And the girl did not stop. She plowed right through the cocktail hour, kept my siblings laughing their asses off through dinner, and now she was charming the hell out of everyone we encountered during the dessert and dancing portion of this evening.
Where I would've grunted my way through a painful conversation with our childhood neighbors and then escorted myself to the bar for a long talk with Johnnie Walker Blue, Jasper had these people telling a hilarious story about getting lost and running out of gas on their way to Canada during the oil crisis in the 1970s. There was a bit about wandering onto private property and getting picked up by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police somewhere past the Vermont border.
"And then they took the men into a separate room," Mrs. Freitas said, her gaze bewildered.
"What happened then?" Jasper asked Mr. Freitas, a shorter man with a shiny bald head.
"I won't say," he replied with a deep chuckle. "I've never talked about it and I won't start now."
"Secrets taken to the grave," Jasper said with a grin that was nothing short of contagious.
"I did not know what was going to happen," Mrs. Freitas continued. "I had no clue. I just kept asking to call my embargo—which is the wrong word, I know that now but I was nineteen and not smart and thought I was saying embassy—and they kept telling me I couldn't do anything about the oil embargo."
"I've never driven through Vermont with anything less than a half tank since," Mr. Freitas added.
"I bet you don't," Jasper drawled.
She patted his forearm and he knew the same thing I did—this woman was the best. The very best.
"That was a night to remember, believe me." With a pointed nod toward Jasper, Mr. Freitas said, "That's a spitfire you've got there."
I laughed because it was the damn truth. "I'd have to say you're right about that."
"I love seeing all you young kids paired off," he continued. "Makes me happy, you see?"
I nodded. I had no idea where this was going but I nodded. "Sure."
"We heard the good news," Mrs. Freitas jumped in. "We just wanted to give you both our best."
"The good news," Jasper repeated.
Mrs. Freitas leaned in, dropped her voice to a stage whisper. "It's so sweet of you to announce your engagement after the party. You know, to give your parents a night all to themselves. This is so special for them."
"Our engagement," Jasper said.
I blinked. Glanced at Jasper. Blinked some more. They had to be thinking of Ash and Zelda. Had to be. Because…no. That had to be it.
Mr. Freitas reached into the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket. "We have a little something for you. Just a date night on us. Vincenzo's. It's our favorite spot. Their tiramisu is enough reason to drive to the city."
He handed me an envelope as Mrs. Freitas said, "It's so important to continue dating each other. You have to keep the romance alive and you can't do that eating pot roast off your everyday-ware plates."
"Mmhmm. You're right about that," Jasper said. "Thank you so much for thinking of us. You're too kind."
"We're just so happy for you." To Jasper, Mrs. Freitas said, "It's like I always say. Even if a man doesn't think he's ready, he gets ready when he meets the one. When he knows, he doesn't play around."
Get out of my head, lady.
"Mmhmm. That's such a generous sentiment," Jasper said.
"If only our Janelle would find a nice boy, we'd have a wedding to throw," Mrs. Freitas added.
"Give her time and you will," Jasper said with a wink. "Soon enough!"
"Oh, are the Barkwoods over there? Near the bar? We should say hello to them before they leave," Mr. Freitas said, tipping his chin in that direction. "They always leave early."
"Congratulations again," Mrs. Freitas said, giving Jasper a quick squeeze.
We watched as they walked away, neither of us speaking for a moment. Then, Jasper said, "I hear we're engaged. Well, that's just so nice."
I was waiting for her to freak out. When it didn't hit, I said, "I don't know where that came from but I'
m impressed with the way you rolled with it."
"If you think that's impressive, you should give me harder challenges. That was as simple as getting your aunt to stop complaining about how much this shindig must have cost your parents and start complaining about her congressman."
"She's going to take all of your advice," I said. "I'll bet you anything she shows up at his local office first thing Monday and doesn't leave until she airs all her grievances."
"Good. That's the point of electing officials. They're duty bound to listen to concerns from constituents and then do their best to remedy or at least advocate for those situations. They have state-based and D.C. staff for precisely those purposes. If you're not hollering at your reps every now and then, you're letting them earn a paycheck without sweating for it."
I glanced inside the envelope. "We got a hundred dollar gift card out of it."
"And here I was, thinking I'd be the source of awkward conversations tonight. I should've known it would be safer to create a diversion." She leaned into me, her arm snaking under my jacket and around my waist. "I probably should've mentioned this sooner but I need my next marriage proposal to be excessive. Over the top. So big I can't blink, miss it, and hear about it from the people who used to live next door to you."
"Yeah, me too," I murmured.
We stared at each other for a heavy minute. This was a mistake. A moment of playing pretend. It wasn't real. We weren't engaged, we weren't getting married. We didn't even know what next month would bring. But—but it wasn't wrong. Fuck, it wasn't wrong in the slightest and Jasper knew it. She knew it as well as I did.
"Do you think they confused us with Ash and Zelda?" she asked.
"I don't usually get confused for Ash."
"They only got engaged a few months ago, right?"
"Yeah, end of the summer." I tucked the envelope in my pocket. "We're keeping the gift card."
"We're totally keeping the gift card," she said.
"That's my girl," I said, leading her across the room. "Come on. We've done enough chatting. I want you all to myself and it seems like the only way I'm getting that is on the dance floor."
The Belle and the Beard Page 29
