by Anyta Sunday
My heart beats heavy in my chest three, four times before he replies. “Oh,” I wish to hear an edge of satisfaction, a splash of glee that gives away how relieved he is to hear this. But his tone is merely genuine. “I hope he’ll be okay.”
Annie gives a slight laugh. “Yeah. Besides, we’re used to it.”
I hold my breath and pray for Annie to leave it at that.
Jace asks, “Used to it?”
“Yeah. He was worse when you left.”
gold
Dad and Lila tie the knot, exchanging beautiful gold bands. The wedding is just what they wish for. Hauntingly beautiful.
For the wedding reception, the doors to the patio open to eight round tables, each peppered with twelve guests.
I sip on my ginger beer, cucumber, and gin cocktail, and take in the colorful festivity, which is like a sea of melted crayons—women wear large skirts and corsets, and men wear tailored suits fit with vests. Like something from Cinderella’s ball but with grotesque twists: dripping blood, ripped bodices, deadly-long nails, red contact lenses, and fake scars.
Lila and Dad sit at the head of our table, an arch framing them from behind. The spider webs that cover the arch are made with hundreds of stringed faux-beryl crystals that sparkle under the fairy lights behind them.
Lila and Dad both wear white—Dad, a suit with a dried silver rose drooping out of his pocket. Lila, a gown with the same dead silver roses woven in the bodice. They feed each other olive-pesto-stuffed capsicums, and nibble kisses on each other’s fingers.
A hand lands on my shoulder, jerking me out of my observations.
“What’re you daydreaming about, pussycat?” Ernie asks, shifting his chair a touch nearer. Dressed in a black suit with white buttons, a bow tie, and a bowler hat, Ernie has a cross of wood hanging with string slung over his back. He’d held it above Annie as they arrived. Puppet and Puppeteer.
He waves a hand in front of my face. “Calling Cooper . . .”
I slap him away with a chuckle. “It’s all so much but I’m happy for them.”
Ernie drinks his cocktail and stares at Dad and Lila. “You’ve got an awesome family, Cooper.”
He focuses his gaze on me and grins, but it’s a shy grin; one I’m not used to seeing on him. “I hope one day I can be a part of it.”
I sit straighter, my foot knocking into the leg of the table. “You and Annie?”
I don’t say the rest, but he bites his lip and nods.
“I never thought I could ever be so lucky. She’s special.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Would you bless it, if I—”
“You’re going to ask?”
“Soon.”
I pull him into a hug. “If you hurt my sis, I’ll make your life miserable.”
“Good. If I did that, I’d deserve it.”
Annie comes and whispers something to Ernie. He nods and she leaves.
“What’s that about?”
“She’s got a little something to do.”
The waiters serve parmesan-lemon risotto with fried oyster mushrooms and roasted cauliflower purée.
Jace’s chair is hauntingly vacant. He flew in a few days ago but other than stiff hellos and awkward conversation, we’ve avoided each other.
As though we wanted to say more but didn’t know how, we ducked into bathrooms or the kitchen pantry or the garage when we caught sight of the other. I’d seen him enough to know he looked the same, with a few more creases around the eyes. Laughter I hadn’t been part of.
I search the crowd for his Prince Charming suit: a gold blazer with brass buttons, tassels coming off the shoulders, and a blue sash. I don’t see—
The music and chattering crowds hush to a silence.
Jace’s voice comes over the speakers, laughter at the edges. “For Mum and Dad, may this day haunt you and your dreams forever.”
The first few strokes of the piano echo in my belly. It’s perfect in every way.
“Time Warp!” Lila cries. She starts singing along with Jace, while Dad pitches his voice higher and Annie’s voice hits the speakers.
Ernie grins at my sideways stare. His huge grin lights up the room more than fairy light wetas dangling from the ceilings as chandeliers. “She’s great, right?”
“Yeah, yeah.” The food is delicious, but all I can do is stare and pick at it.
“You all right?” Ernie asks, eying my food like he wants to gobble my plate.
I slide it over to him. “Fine. I need the bathroom anyway.”
I zigzag through the crowds to the arch leading to the foyer and the band. Jace has removed his blazer and plays with graceful energy. My sister and Jace are sharing a stool and a microphone. I lean in the shadows of the doorway and wish I knew a comfortable way to minimize the distance between us.
I slink back into the dining room crowds and make my way to the kitchen, which is temporarily repurposed into a bar. I perch on a stool and order whiskey. I sip and observe the head table outside. At the tail end of my drink, Annie and Jace return for their dinner.
I swirl the last sip of whiskey, ice clinking against the side of the glass. Rings of condensation mark the marble bench.
Someone tugs on my sleeve. I twist. Annie in a smooth doll mask. “Help me for a minute?”
“Sure.”
She pinches my sleeve and drags me to the back room where the wedding gifts are stored. The whole side of one room is filled with colorfully wrapped boxes with large, obnoxious bows.
“What’s up?” she asks, pulling her mask up to her pinned hair.
“Sorry? What do you—?”
“Mean? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how weird you two are acting. Ernie said you were acting weird too.”
I swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That might work on someone else but not your sister. I know you. You haven’t spoken to Jace all evening. Barely at all since he came home. What happened?”
I shift in my boots and brace a hand on my fake sword. The cape I’m wearing seems to be choking me and I unclasp it. The black material puddles at my feet. “It’s been a busy few days, we just haven’t had time—”
“Not the last three days. What happened to you two? You used to be best friends.” She moves to the present pile and traces her fingers over the tops of bows and ribbons. “There was even a time when I thought—” She shakes her head. “Never mind.”
The truth of her suspicions shows in the way she looks at me then looks away.
I fold my arms over a shiver. “What did you think?”
Annie stills her hand on the largest present, silver with drops of fake blood, the one I gave Dad and Lila. “I—I mean . . .”
Her inability to form the sentence confirms it. I sigh, glad for the whiskered mask even though it doesn’t change facts.
“And if it was true?” I ask, voice cracking.
“I don’t care.” She lifts her chin and stares right at me. “Broken home, broken rules, right?”
My throat tightens and I shut my eyes for a few beats. Annie closes the distance between us and rubs my upper arm. “That type of broken is something we all have to live with and accept; but the broken between you and Jace . . . we all feel it. Dad and Lila too. We want things to be good between you.”
God, how I wished that too.
Annie kisses my cheek under the mask. “Let’s go back out. We could dance?”
But I don’t think I can face a crowd yet. I need a moment to pull myself together. “Maybe later?”
“Right. I’d better check Dad isn’t pulling Ernie apart piece by piece.”
The air stirs as she shuts the door. I move to the window seat and sit.
Broken home, broken rules.
I breathe in the sharp relief of her words and peel off my mask. I peer at the darkness outside, the windowpane cold against my forehead. My breath fogs against the glass, and I scribble Jace’s name through it. I wish things could be how they were then—
The
door bursts open. I scrub Jace’s name off the window and leap from the windowsill.
Dad and Lila stop kissing when they see me. “What are you doing in here?”
What are you doing in here? “Just making sure my gift was in order.”
Lila giggles. “Your dad and I just wanted to . . . peek at the gifts.”
Yeah, that’s what they were doing in here. “Well don’t let me stop you.” I cut toward the door but Dad slings an arm across my neck. “This is the happiest day of my life. Thank you for making everything so wonderful.”
In the distance, a loud scream sounds remarkably like Ernie.
Dad laughs. “And it just got better.”
I grin. “How many other tricks do you have up your sleeve?”
Lila grabs a present and vigorously unwraps it. “You can also find treats upstairs.”
I leave them to their shenanigans and head toward the chocolate-lava cake. Ernie’s fake blood drips all down his front and he’s swearing under his breath. “They’re going to pay for that.”
“Oh, yes,” Annie says, dabbing his neck with a napkin. “Let me help you plot.”
I sit and shift my chair in closer to the table. A piece of paper catches my eye. Slipped under my dessert plate is an envelope with my name on it. I pause before picking it up. No note. Just a smooth teal stone shaped like an hourglass.
I rub it between my fingers. “Did you leave—” I stop asking Annie and Ernie if they left the envelope here. I know who did.
I slip the stone into my pocket and search the room for him. For a while I think he left the reception, but then I spot him.
He looks different without his blazer, and he’s wearing a mask made up of little silver squares that reflect the light like a disco ball. It’s a different mask than the blue one he arrived in. Does he hope to lose himself in the crowd? Does he think I won’t recognize his eyes, his mouth, his ears, his hands?
I left my mask in the gift room, but I’m not going back there so I pluck a paua shell one from the centerpiece and put it on before making my way to the bar.
I slip onto the stool next to him. Jace startles but doesn’t acknowledge me. He sips his drink nonchalantly instead.
I order one of what he’s having. “You here for the bride or the groom?”
Jace’s hand jerks around his glass but otherwise he’s still. He looks at me for a long moment. “Bride,” he says. “We go way back.”
“Groom,” I say, leaning in conspiratorially. “Once I saw the guy swear at an old lady for cutting in line, and she whipped out her cane and tripped him in the parking lot. I’m Cooper, by the way, and who are you, Mr. Friend of the Bride?”
Jace laughs uncertainly. His gaze flashes to the bartender and the whiskey bottles. “Call me Wesley.”
I lift my tumbler glass and drink deeply. The warm whiskey burns as it slides down my throat. I cough and chuckle at myself. “What do you think of the Halloween-birthday-masquerade wedding? I think the guy is after the gifts.”
“Could be. Makes sense. He’ll get twice as many. What did you get him?”
I grin. “See the biggest gift?”
“The one taking up the entire corner of the room?”
“Yep. That’s mine.”
“What is it?”
“Twenty cardboard boxes each smaller than the last.”
“Ouch. What did he do to you?”
I shrug. “He’s my dad. That’s reason enough.” I take another sip. “But there’s a photo album of our family in the last box.”
Jace rattles the ice in his glass. “Big family?”
“No, just broken.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Broken family, broken rules. I had two birthdays, two Christmases, two great homes. I hope the album shows him how much I love him and Lila.”
He blinks and parts his lips—
I cling my glass against his. “What is it you do, Wesley?”
He clears his throat. “I just finished university—teacher’s college—but I plan on travelling around Europe for a year before I settle into a teaching career.”
I hold back my surprise and draw my tumbler over the condensation on the bench. I knew Jace finished teacher’s training but I didn’t know he was planning to travel. “Wow.” I take a much larger drink. “When does your adventure begin?”
“A few weeks. I wanted to be here for the wedding first.”
I nod, trying to shake off the disappointment. A whole year away?
How is being in Europe different than in Dunedin if you never speak anyway? “Where will you go?”
“All over, really. I’ll start with Germany and go from there.”
“Sounds amazing. Make sure you go to Turkey to see the Göreme Fairy Chimneys. And the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland, and of course, Stonehenge.”
“Have you been?”
“No but one day I will. After I finish my masters.”
“You really should.”
“Teacher’s college, what was that like?” What has happened to you in the past years? What have I missed?
“I taught one class where a kid got his hand stuck in a tuba. I don’t know how he did it but it was jammed in there. We tried pulling, rotating, even using soapy water to dislodge him. I had to send him to First Aid. The class was in a shambles, and the only way I could pull in everyone’s attention was to tell them about getting stuck up to my waist in mud while hiking a couple of years ago. It took me three hours with the help of some mates to get free.”
I shake my head, grinning.
“What I didn’t tell the class was that I lost my pants in the process and came out butt naked.” Jace winces and takes another sip. “I’ll never live it down.”
“That’s a good one.”
“What about you?” he asks. “Any embarrassing stories?”
I shrug. What the hell. “My ex and I went bungee jumping at the Kawarau Bridge near Queenstown last year.”
“Bungee jumping. You’re crazy.”
“When you’re on the bridge, they ask if you want to touch the water. I didn’t have a change of clothes with me so I said I’d like to touch it but not get dunked. They fiddled about with the ropes until it was my turn. I freaked out for a few moments then jumped. I crashed through the surface of the water and bounced back out. The rush was so intense that I didn’t immediately notice something was off. But as the bounces slowed, I became aware of cold air on my butt and . . . that’s when I noticed the water had pushed my shorts around my thighs and I was flashing the world.”
Jace snorts and slaps the kitchen bench. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Worst is they videotaped it and tried to sell us the memory.”
“Oh, God, please say you bought it!”
“Are you kidding?”
He laughs harder. We share a couple more experiences we’d rather forget, and Jace excuses himself to the bathroom. When he comes back, he’s carrying a plate of chocolate-lava cake and two forks. “Love chocolate,” he says. “Couldn’t miss this. Want some?”
I take the offered fork and we dig in.
“Did you come here with someone?” Jace asks with a token glance at the guests.
“No. Single. You?” I hold a forkful of cake to my lips.
“Me too.”
I eat the cake and hold his gaze longer than before. He rests his fork on the plate and I follow suit. I pick at my shirt and undo a button. “It’s stuffy in here. You want to go for a walk?”
“Sure.”
I lead him outside through a gap in the trellises. When we hit the fringe of the bush, he stops and looks at me.
“This way,” I say warmly.
Fern leaves comb our sides as we trek down the dark trail. Our steps make a dull clumping sound on the packed-dirt path.
Jace hesitates, and I pause with him. His mask reflects the strands of moonlight filtering through the trees. I can’t be sure but I think a grin is pulling at his lips. “You can’t expect me to follow you out into the
bush in the middle of the night!”
The words stir an earlier memory—I think they were meant to. “And yet, here you are.”
He follows me around the bend toward the babbling creek. If I listen closely enough, I think I’ll hear our story being told to us.
Outside the cave, I stop. “We have to whisper now. Come.”
He’s close behind me as we move into the cave. For a moment, I linger in his warmth and observe his slow, sweet smile.
The glowworms seem brighter than ever. Maybe they’re celebrating our return. “Been a long time since I’ve been out here.”
“How long?” he whispers.
“Years.”
I try to count the hundreds of pearly-green lights but like always, I don’t finish.
Jace turns and walks out.
I leave a few moments after him. He’s standing at the creek, touching his mask as if considering lifting it. He drops his hand. “Thank you for taking me here.”
“Want to head back?”
He nods.
When we get back to the garden, we veer toward the nook at the end and sit on the bench dusted with real spider webs. The cool wood bites through my shirt.
I pull the hourglass stone from my pocket. Jace is watching me, so I hand it over to him. “I got this today.”
His voice is on the cusp of breaking. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “It could be anything.”
“What do you think it is?”
“An apology. Or maybe someone misses me as much as I miss him.”
His breath hitches.
I continue, “But I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because the guy who gave this to me broke my heart. I’ve thought about him and missed him every day for five years. Every single day.”
“Maybe it’s the same for him?” He’s staring at the stone in his hand.
“Maybe.”
“Were you close?” He fiddles with the stone, not lifting his gaze to me.
“We used to hang out as kids in the cave.”
His eyes close. I pluck the stone from his warm hands and slide it back into my pocket. “It’s cold, let’s get back to the reception.”
Back inside, we sidle up to the bar and order two more whiskeys. It fuels the nervous flare in my belly and shoots shivers to the tips of my fingers and toes. The mask is heavy against my nose and I adjust it.
