by Diane Barnes
Ben frowns. “It makes it look like he still lives here or that you’re expecting him back at any time.”
“It’s one coat,” I say.
“You could throw it away.” He gives me a challenging look, like he expects me to take it to the trash now.
I hand him the bottle of cabernet and a corkscrew. “Can you open this while I dig out the wine glasses?”
“Sure,” he says, but he’s still frowning.
After I pour our drinks, I ask him to make a toast. He thinks for a minute, staring at Nico’s leather coat. “To you getting on with your life.”
I move my glass before he can touch it with his. “And to us having a good time together.” This time I use a breathy voice and narrow my eyes, trying to look seductive.
“Are your contacts bothering you?” he asks before clanking my glass.
* * *
All the guests are sitting in chairs arranged in a semicircle around a fireplace on the far wall of the dining room. Ben and I scurry across the dark hardwood to the only empty seats at the end of the last row. He stretches his long legs sideways and extends one arm over the back of my chair. I move all the way back so that my shoulders brush up against his forearm. Any type of physical contact is good, according to Ellie’s instructions—and those old Seventeen magazine articles, if I remember right.
Dressed in a long off-white gown, Renee stands in the center of the circle, beaming at a tuxedo-clad, grinning Lenny. Their daughter, Cheryl, stands in front of them with a leather-bound notepad in her hand. She has the same hooded eyes as her father, as well as an identical bump in her nose. I haven’t seen her since her high school graduation two years ago. Back then, she didn’t wear makeup. It was a form of rebellion against her mother, who wouldn’t be caught dead without lipstick and mascara. The rebellion is clearly over. Tonight, Cheryl’s made up like she’s about to do a photo shoot for Cover Girl.
Renee’s son, Joel, slumps against the brick wall behind his sister, staring at the floor. At sixteen, he is tall and lanky, clearly still growing into his body. Nico and I took him to a hockey game last season. He’s grown half a foot since then.
Lenny nods at Cheryl. She takes a deep breath and opens her notebook. “Good evening and thank you for coming.” She reads in a slow and deliberate manner.
Ben leans toward me. “She should have guzzled down wine to loosen up.” He doesn’t say it, but I hear the word too at the end of his sentence, and I feel like he’s passing judgment on me. I slugged down two big pours before we left my apartment. Meanwhile, Ben didn’t finish his first glass.
Cheryl continues. “Twenty-five years ago, my mother and father joined their hearts and hands and vowed to love, honor, and cherish each other.” She finally looks up from her notes. “My dad also swears that my mom promised to obey, but she denies that.”
The guests laugh. Renee shakes her head.
Cheryl consults her notes again. “Throughout the years, life has brought my parents some wonderful blessings.” She looks up and grins. “Me, for example, and some challenges as well.” She looks at Joel, whose cheeks turn ruddy.
“Through it all, they fulfilled the promises they made to each other. Today, they want everyone to know, knowing everything they do, they would do it all again.” She pauses, scans the crowd, and then turns back to her parents. “Do you want to renew your vows?”
“We do,” Renee and Lenny say together.
Lenny reaches for Renee’s hand. “All these years later,” he says, “I still can’t believe that you picked me. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone else does, and still you want to be with me.” He sounds incredulous. “You are my one and only, my soul mate. It is a privilege to recommit myself to you and our marriage today.”
I glance at Ben, expecting him to be scrolling through his phone, checking scores or messages, because that’s what Nico would be doing. Instead, Ben is leaning forward in his seat, paying such close attention to the vow renewal that he’s not even aware I’m looking at him.
I refocus my attention on Renee and Lenny, noticing the way Lenny’s voice breaks as he recites his vows, the mist in Renee’s eyes as she smiles up at him, the way their fingers are entwined. If I reached out into the air in front of me, I swear I could grab hold of a piece of their love. It’s that palpable. I think of Mr. O’Brien earlier in the day, gluing his dead wife’s mug back together. Nico and I didn’t love each other like that, I realize. We would have swept up the broken pieces and deposited them in the trash without a second thought. I want someone to love me enough to renew vows with me on our twenty-fifth anniversary and glue my coffee cup back together.
When the ceremony is over, I remain seated as everyone around me rises and rushes to the bar in the other room. Noticing that I haven’t moved, Ben returns to his chair. “You okay?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, forcing a smile because I don’t want to be Debbie Downer.
“Someday we’re going to do this too,” he says.
I shoot him a questioning look.
“I don’t mean together,” he hurriedly adds, getting back to his feet. “But we’re each going to find that right person to make vows to. I’m sure of it.”
I tilt my head and smile up at him. “You had me so excited when I thought you meant we’d be reciting vows to one another,” I tease. This time my flirting is not premeditated.
“I wouldn’t necessarily rule it out,” he says, flashing me his lady-killer grin. It’s the first time he has smiled since we were standing in my foyer.
* * *
Ben and I are seated with two of Renee’s college friends, Darlene and Jennifer, and their husbands. Darlene looks like a blond version of Renee, with the same short, spiky haircut, wide forehead, prominent cheekbones, and inflated lips. I’d bet my life they went to the same plastic surgeon.
“You could be her sister,” Ben says.
“If you mean the much younger, prettier sister, then yes.” Darlene touches Ben’s arm as she speaks.
Jennifer has salt-and-pepper hair and a full, round face. I’m pretty sure she’s never had work done and can picture her teasing Renee and Darlene about theirs. She hasn’t spoken a word but her name, but I like her already.
After we all introduce ourselves, I expect Ben to escape to the bar to watch the Celtics game until dinner is served, because that’s what Nico would do. Instead, Ben has the table in stitches with his impersonations of Renee and her hot flashes at work. When he’s done with his stories, he says, “Give us the goods on her college years. Stuff we can use to blackmail her.”
Darlene and Jennifer talk over each other filling us in on Renee’s days at the University of Massachusetts.
As the salad is being served, a hefty man with curly dark hair joins our table. He introduces himself as Tommy Mackay and tells us he’s Lenny’s cousin. “Looks like I timed it perfectly and missed the vow renewal. What a crock of shit that is.” He reaches over me to grab a roll. “You married?” he asks, looking at Ben.
Ben shakes his head. “Smart man,” Tommy says.
“Or an unlucky one,” Ben mumbles.
His remark surprises me. I look up at him and notice a twinge of hurt in his expression.
Between large bites of his chicken saltimbocca, Tommy tells us about the night Renee and Lenny met. “She was dancing with me first,” he says. “We didn’t even make it through an entire song. Can’t believe Len’s put up with her for twenty-five years.” He laughs, opening his mouth filled with half-chewed food. “I’m kidding. I love Renee.”
Ben elbows me. “Renee wanted to set you up with Tommy,” he whispers.
I think he’s kidding, but then I remember Renee telling me about Lenny’s single cousin. Why in the world would she think this buffoon is a good match for me? Because he’s over thirty and he’s single. Damn. I pick up the glass of red wine the waitress has already refilled two times and take a large sip.
Tommy stares at me like he might have heard what Ben said
about Renee wanting to set us up. “Jillian,” he says. “That name is familiar. How do you know Renee and Lenny?”
“I work with Renee,” I answer. “The both of us do,” I say, pointing at Ben.
“That’s right,” Tommy says. “You’re the one who was dating the producer of the morning sports radio show.”
Jennifer’s husband’s head snaps in my direction. “You’re Jill from BS Morning Sports Talk?”
I reach for my wine again.
“Branigan sure is gunning for you,” he says. “What did you do to the guy?”
He and Tommy stare, waiting for me to answer. I take another sip of wine. They don’t turn away from me. “I called his ball out,” I say. They look at me blankly. “During a tennis match. It was near the line. I said it was out, and he lost because of that.”
“Was it out?” Tommy asks.
Ben cocks his head in my direction.
“It was really close. Probably could have gone either way.”
Tommy laughs. “Bet you wish you had called it the other way now.”
I reach for my glass again, but it’s empty. “Excuse me.” I bolt for the bar, where I order a rum and Coke.
A few minutes later Ben joins me. “You okay?”
“The ball was on the line,” I admit. “I should have called it in.”
Lenny and a group of men approach the bar, slapping each other on the back and laughing. Lenny winks at me.
“I know that,” Ben says. “It wouldn’t make sense for Branigan to go on this vendetta against you if the ball was out.” He flags down the bartender and asks for a scotch and soda.
“He was already talking about me before the tennis match.”
“No,” Ben says. “He arranged a contest for Nico and mentioned that you used to date him.”
The anger in his voice surprises and confuses me. “I can’t change what I did.” I stir the ice in my drink with the swizzle stick.
Lenny and his friends at the bar count backward, shouting, “Three, two, one.” They all throw back a shot.
“No, but you can apologize,” Ben says. “End this whole thing.”
“Why do you sound so mad at me?”
“It’s been almost four months, Jill. You should be ready to move on with your life.”
I read somewhere that the time it takes to get over someone is two weeks for every year you spent together, which I guess means that Ben is right and I should be over Nico by now.
I drop my hand to Ben’s leg and take a deep breath. “I was hoping you could help me move on tonight?” I’m deviating from Ellie’s plan; she told me I should wait for Ben to come on to me, but things are spiraling out of control.
He glances down at my hand. “What are you talking about?”
I muster my best seductive look while I slide my hand up his thigh. Just as I reach my intended destination, he jerks away from me.
“Jill, what the hell are you doing?”
“You don’t like it?”
He narrows his eyes. “Are you actually trying to get me to sleep with you as a way to get over Nico?”
“I’m ready to move on,” I say defiantly.
“Yeah, well, I’m not going to be your rebound guy.”
“I promise you’d have a good time.” I reach for him again.
He stands. “I was really looking forward to tonight. I used to have the biggest crush on you,” he says while shaking his head. “You really need to get yourself together.”
I order another drink, thinking I may have just reached rock bottom. Damn, I played that wrong.
Back at the table, the waitstaff is serving strawberry cheesecake. Jennifer leans over to me. “Sorry that all came up,” she says. “It must be hard.”
I nod.
“It looks like you’ve moved on just fine,” she says, smiling appreciatively at Ben, who folds his arms over his chest.
“We’re not together,” I clarify. “We’re friends.” Or we used to be.
As we eat dessert, the band changes the background music from soft instrumentals to a rendition of Taylor Dayne’s “I’ll Always Love You,” which the lead singer announces was Renee and Lenny’s wedding song back in 1991. The guests all watch while Renee and Lenny dance.
When the song ends, the music gets faster. Several people get up to dance, but Ben and I remain sitting.
“Do you mind if I borrow him?” Darlene asks, pulling Ben by the arm. She drags him out to the dance floor.
I slump in my chair as I sit at the table alone. Ben and Darlene laugh as they try to outdo one another with crazy moves. I pull my phone out of my purse to text Ellie for an emergency consultation: “Not going well.” Ben glances over at me. He takes Darlene’s hand and spins her around in circles. My message doesn’t go through because there is no signal.
When the song ends, the music gets slower. Ben and Darlene leave the dance floor. Darlene heads for the bar where her husband is, and Ben returns to his seat next to me. “Who are you texting?” he asks.
“No one.”
His jaw tightens.
“Ben, Jillian,” Renee calls from the dance floor. “Get out here.”
Neither of us moves.
“Don’t make me come over there and get you,” Renee yells.
“We better,” Ben says. He stands and heads toward her without waiting for me.
When I catch up to him, he places one hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder and holds me loosely. Remembering the last time we slow-danced together, I step closer to him, trying to spark something. He immediately steps backward, taking another piece of my self-esteem with him. What was I thinking?
* * *
Ben and I don’t say much to each other on the drive back to my apartment. He stares through the windshield at the road in front of him with a clenched jaw, while I look out the passenger window at the dark houses we pass. The silence in the car screams at me, so I switch on the radio. He has it tuned to the sports station, which is airing a promotion for Monday’s morning show. I immediately change the station, flipping until I come to Beyoncé singing about being a boy. I sing along.
Ben glances at me. I can tell he’s trying to fight it, but he smiles. “God, you’re awful.” He takes his hands off the steering wheel to cover his ears. “Please stop,” he says. “You’re tone deaf and you don’t know the words.”
In response, I sing louder.
“Seriously, Jillian, stop.”
“Let me hear you do better.”
He shakes his head.
“I’m going to keep singing until you do.” I belt out the chorus.
“Okay,” Ben says. “You win.” He clears his throat and sings the chorus with me.
We both laugh because he’s worse than me. He turns onto my street and pulls into my driveway. The motion lights snap on. The curtains in Mr. O’Brien’s living room window move. The old man is probably surprised to see me home so early. It’s just after ten. Renee’s party was still raging when we left.
Ben’s seat belt clicks, surprising me. I turn toward him. “Are you going to come in?” I hate how hopeful I sound.
“I’m going to walk you to the door,” he says.
“I’m all set,” I say. “I’ve made it across the porch plenty of times before.”
He ignores me and steps out of the car, leaving it running. He silently follows me up the walkway. As we get closer to the house, I see a shock of Mr. O’Brien’s white hair in the window. By the time we pass it, he’s no longer standing there. On my side of the duplex, Ben holds the storm door open while I turn my key in the lock.
Before I step inside, I turn to face him. “I’m sorry about earlier. It was a bad idea.”
“I can’t even believe you thought I’d go along with it.”
“Ellie said you would.”
“Ellie,” he mutters.
I think about bringing up the dance at the holiday party and what he said to me, but he’d probably tell me I misunderstood him. I’ve had enough humiliation tonig
ht. “Good night.”
I turn away from him, but he grabs my shoulder and spins me back toward him. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but the time is definitely not right.” He leans toward me, his lips heading for mine. Wrong. He kisses my cheek. “Good night,” he whispers, and hurries back across the porch.
I wait in the doorway until he gets back to his car. He gives me a small wave before driving off.
I touch my face where his lips brushed against it, thinking I wore the uncomfortable underwear for that?
Chapter 26
My phone rings at eight o’clock the next morning, waking me from a restless sleep. I reach toward the nightstand to grab it, knocking over my bottle of water. I curse under my breath as I say hello.
“Did you have a good time last night?” Ellie asks. I imagine she’s been up for hours, staring at the clock waiting for a time she thought wasn’t too early to call me.
I try to think about how to answer, the best way to describe the colossal failure that last night was.
“Oh my God,” Ellie says, rushing to fill the silence. “Are you still with him?”
“No!”
“Oh.” The two-letter word is punctuated with disappointment. I don’t know who feels it more, me or her.
“Well, you sound distracted.”
“You woke me up!”
“Fine. Go back to sleep.”
* * *
I’ve been waiting for close to fifteen minutes when I receive Ellie’s text telling me she’s on her way. We’re meeting to walk around the pond. Snowbanks still flank the paved path that winds around it, making it narrower than usual. Runners and walkers dodge a large puddle of melting snow as they pass me. I turn my face toward the sky and revel in the feel of the sun on my face. A jogger pauses and raises her foot up onto the bench next to me to tie her sneaker. “It’s like a summer day,” she says before taking off again.
Bored from waiting, I pull out my phone again. I take my turn in the latest game of Words with Friends I’m playing with my brother, scroll through Twitter, and then check Facebook. Renee wasted no time posting pictures from last night. She even tagged Ben and me in one. It was taken before I suggested he sleep with me to help me get over Nico. We’re sitting at the table and he’s smiling at me, not aware that we’re being photographed. I, on the other hand, am looking straight into the camera with a huge grin.
