by Ginger Scott
“Will, I haven’t seen you enough. I’m so glad you could come today,” Susan says, hugging me and kissing my cheek. She feels like home, too.
“Not sure this party was optional,” I say, letting her go and glancing from her to her husband. His face is still stern, and I’m pretty sure he’s gritting his back teeth. “But I would have come no matter what.”
“Well, either way, I’m glad you did,” Susan says, patting my shoulder, and walking inside, leaving me alone with Maddy’s dad.
“You two seem to have found your way,” he says, his lips twisted and pushed together tight.
“I’ve missed her, is all,” I say.
Okay, I lie sometimes. I lie to this man, because he scares the ever-loving shit out of me, and because I have now seen his daughter naked, and I feel like he knows.
“Uh huh,” Curtis says, blinking when he turns his eyes away from me, stepping in and holding the door as I pass. He shuts it behind us, and I wait for his lead, following him down the hallway to the main room that has been cleared out to make room for tabletops and mingling. Suddenly, my jacket feels tighter.
“I have some folks I’d like you to meet, if you’ve got a minute?” Curtis says, turning to me as we step into the crowd. There are about twenty of us swimming at the club, and we’re all here, but mix in the people with money, family members, dates and such, and it’s hard to maneuver around the modest Woodsen home. I manage to follow Curtis through the tables to two men standing by the door. Their suits—they seem to fit right.
“Will, this is Craig and Allan Cumberland,” he doesn’t need to finish the intro for me to get exactly who they are. I wear their suit. I’ve always worn their suit.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, very aware of my grip. I squeeze hard, and I get a smirk from one of them.
“Likewise, Will. I’m Allan, this is Craig,” the taller of the two says.
I glance between them and catch a glimpse of Maddy, standing at a table with Amber and her friend Holly. They’re all laughing over something, but Maddy’s pretending. I can tell; her eyes are on me, and she’s watching this conversation.
“Been following your story for a while, Will,” Craig says. “You’ve overcome a lot. It’s pretty inspiring.”
My mouth falls to a straight line and I look down when a server walks by and drops a napkin at our table for each of us. Prophetic.
“Water for me, thanks,” I say before she has a chance to zip off and fetch wine for all of us. She nods, and I catch Curtis’s stare, his tight smile.
“I wouldn’t say it’s inspiring,” I say, in response to Craig. “Those things were all kinda my own doing, for the most part. Just trying to claw my way back, I guess—prove something.”
“I think you’re proving things to a lot of people just by going to the trials,” Allan says.
“Maybe,” I say, happy that the server returns quickly with my water. I twist the cap and guzzle nearly half of it down, relieved to have something to busy myself with.
“The Cumberlands were thinking, Will…since you wear their suits and all, maybe there’s an opportunity for some sit-downs, a few interviews, nothing too big…” Curtis’s words trail off while he waits for my reaction. Everyone at this table is watching me drink from a water bottle, and I do my best to smile with my eyes.
“Maybe,” I say.
By the way Curtis’s face falters, I can tell that maybe was not what he was hoping for. He should feel lucky, though. My instinct was an immediate no thanks.
“Great, we’ll work on some details, run them by you,” Curtis says, suddenly attracted to someone on the other side of the room. “We’ll catch up with you later. Gentlemen, I went to the Olympics with this guy over here. Come with me so I can introduce you.”
They all leave, and I rest my elbows on the table, glad to be alone. Maddy walks up, taking my water from my hands and finishing it herself.
“I hate wine,” she shrugs.
I breathe out a laugh.
The room grows busy with shaking hands and ass kissing, and my jacket feels more and more snug.
“You wanna go sit outside with me for a bit? Escape a little?” I tilt my head toward the patio door.
“God, do I,” Maddy smiles.
I follow her through the crowd, and she grabs two more water bottles from the bar set up in the corner on our way outside. She slides the glass door shut behind us when we slip out, and I pull two of the patio chairs into a corner, out of the view of the guests inside. Before I sit down, I slip off my jacket and drape it over the back, flexing my fingers and wishing like hell I could pop these cufflinks off, too.
Maddy’s knee grazes against mine when she sits, and instinctually, I lean closer. Her fingers trail along my wrist, and my hands open, finally relaxing as she pinches the plain silver link on my left cuff.
“Your dad’s?” Her question isn’t really a question.
“Yeah. Duncan gave them to me this morning. He fixed this up for me, too,” I say, laying my other wrist on my knee to show her the watch.
“I figured that was his. It looks like him,” she smiles.
She’s right. It does.
I reach forward and sweep her hair behind her ear, her eyes glancing to me as her lip quirks up on one side. I slide my finger down to the tip of her nose, then brush my knuckle against her mouth.
“You look beautiful,” I say.
Her mouth pulls into a tight smile, her cheeks round and red.
“Thanks,” she says, her voice raspy.
Her eyes hit mine, and we stare at each other without breathing for a while, but I can’t hold up my façade for longer than a few seconds. I feel my muscles in my face give, my eyes slanting and mouth falling back to that straight line of dread.
I need to tell her about my trip. I need to tell her something.
I swallow hard, and her eyes flinch just a little. She’s expecting bad news, which if I shared it all, it would be devastating. I smile and shake my head, needing to fix her frown.
“No, it’s nothing…nothing bad, anyway, just…I have to go on a trip. I leave early Thursday. And…I’m going to miss more time, so your dad…” I stop there.
Her mouth twists as she realizes my predicament. Missing time will not work in my favor here. Curtis might be inclined to cut me loose.
“My dad loves you,” she says.
I give her a wry smile.
“Really, Will…he does,” she adds.
I laugh lightly and lean back into the chair, folding my hands behind my neck, cracking my knuckles before shrugging and letting my arms fall to my side.
“Maybe, but this is my second miss. And we have a practice meet next week. I’m already a gamble, Maddy. He’s gonna want to cut me,” I say.
“Then don’t miss,” she answers fast.
I open my mouth, the words almost coming out before my brain acts as defense, but I pause with my lips parted, the truth right there, on the tip of my tongue.
I close my mouth tight and shake my head, then look down at my hands, folded in my lap, thumbs rubbing my skin.
“It’s not something I can miss,” I say, glancing sideways at her. Her face still looks the same—confused, worried…maybe hurt.
“More paperwork?” The word is rancid when it leaves her mouth. I don’t respond, instead just staring back at her with nothing but apology behind my eyes.
“I have to help a friend,” I say, needing to give her something, some version of the truth. I can’t have her looking at me like I’m a failure, or like my secrets have anything to do with my DUI, or the bad habits I’ve avoided now for months.
“Is this friend…someone I know?” She cocks her head, her eyelids falling.
I shake my head and look back at my hands. I need to give her more. Not all, but more.
“It’s a close friend, someone I know from State. It’s for her kid. He’s severely disabled, and he’s having these seizures, and…and they don’t have any family here, none anywhere, reall
y, that can help. They have a consultation in Cleveland, and I…have to make sure they make that appointment,” I say, looking up to meet her eyes as I say those final words.
Please don’t ask any more questions, Maddy.
“He’ll make an exception for you, Will,” she says finally, standing and moving so her hands are on the back of her chair, her body facing me. “He’ll make an exception because you’re the one bringing the sponsors to this thing. But you’re going to need to do those interviews.”
Her forehead dents, and I know it’s because she knows how badly I don’t want to talk about the accident, my parents, and my brother.
“I know,” I nod, standing and moving toward her. I move my hands so they cover hers, then I lean close and kiss her forehead, holding my mouth against her while my eyes peer through the window, taking in the happy, trouble-free faces inside. I need to turn Maddy into one of those, and I need to make sure she stays happy.
“I’m going to go find your dad, and let him know,” I say, leaving her outside while I head in to swim with the sharks.
Maddy
There’s a chance I might just stay out here. Minutes have passed, and nobody has come looking for me, so why fix a situation that isn’t broken.
I slide back into the chair and kick my heels from my feet, tucking the skirt of my dress under my thighs so I can rest my feet on the empty chair Will left behind. I’m about to rest my eyes and breathe until I can let go of this nagging feeling in my stomach over Will when I hear the sliding glass followed by the voice of my best friend.
“Your position has been compromised,” Holly says.
I crack one eyelid open as she moves a glass of wine in my hand then drags her chair next to mine, forcing my feet to fall to the ground.
“You’re ruining my zen,” I say.
“Drink the wine. That’ll help,” she says, raising her glass before sipping on her own. “Why are we hiding?”
I shrug.
“Liar. Tell me,” she says.
I laugh.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had to be at one of these kinds of parties, and it turns out…I don’t really like them,” I say, raising my own wine and sipping.
My friend laughs loudly, and I lean forward to look inside, internally begging that nobody heard her and got clued in to the idea of stepping outside.
“Stop, it’s fine. You can’t hear a thing in there,” she says. I meet her eyes to gauge how truthful she’s being, and when I’m satisfied, I lean back and exhale. “I asked Will where you were.”
I nod.
“He looked very…intense. Everything going all right with you two?” She shakes her shoulders, bobbing her head as if her question is innocent. I know better.
“We’re getting along fine, Holly,” I say, lips pursed.
She sips her wine, loudly, and stares at me over the rim.
“You…kiss him yet?” Her right brow shoots into her hairline.
I hold her stare, waiting too long to answer, and she moves to the next question.
“You sleep with him?”
My mouth betrays me, instantly reacting, remembering how his kiss felt, wanting more of them, more of his body and the unbelievable way he makes me feel when his hands are on me.
“Maddy Woodsen, you dirty girl!” she teases. “You’re blushing. You fucked that boy, and you let him do dirty things.”
“Holly, Jesus…shhhhh!” I sit up straight and grab her arms. She shrugs me away from the hand holding her wine and drinks the rest of it down, setting the glass on the ground when she’s done.
“Well?” She waits, staring at me. I know what well means, and I know ignoring it isn’t an option. She’ll only move on to blunt questioning after this, using words that are going to make me want to hide in a hole.
“It was unbelievable,” I say. I don’t smile, though, and that’s where I go wrong.
“Huh,” she says, turning her head a fraction, eyes still studying me. “Your face says otherwise.”
I sigh loudly.
“It was good. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” I suck at deflecting.
“Maddy, this is the first time you’ve had sex in four years. It’s the second guy you’ve slept with, and it’s the very hot brother of the guy you were going to marry. It’s the juiciest shit I’ve ever witnessed—and I work in a hospital where interns shag in elevators and doctors cheat on their wives and husbands with one another. You can’t use a word like unbelievable, and then follow it up with a face that looks like you want to weep and vomit at the same time.”
Shit, do I really look like I want to vomit? Weep…maybe. I shake my head and sit up straight before letting my face fall into my hands, my fingers at my temples.
“He’s got a lot of baggage, Holly. Fuck, we have some of the same damned bags,” I say through a wry laugh.
“And…” She shrugs.
I look her in the eye and huff out a breath, blinking slowly, coming to terms with that feeling in my gut, with what it is.
“I feel like I’m hurting Evan,” I say, my body deflating with the words. “It feels like a betrayal.”
“Honey, Evan’s gone,” she says.
“Yeah, but Will is his brother!” My hand flies to my face, my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. “He’s the one person on this earth I should probably not fall for.”
“But…you…are,” she says the words slowly, like she’s trying not to scare me when I hear them.
They do scare me, though. They’re true. They’re truer than true. I was honest with Will when I told him I used to look for him...wait for him. My attraction to him came in waves, first adolescent-crush-type attraction, then the more adult kind, and I buried it every time I felt the tinge in my belly, the giddiness at seeing him. I had dreams about him over the years, and I got jealous of his girlfriends. I’d feel the sting, then push it down until I couldn’t feel in anymore. Evan was the safe choice, and I let myself fall for him because of it, but there’s a part of me—a part of my heart—that always wanted Will more. I question that part because now there’s nothing holding it back except for my fear of what other people are going to think about me.
“It isn’t right,” I say.
“Fuck that,” she fires back, and I both laugh and shoot my eyebrows high at once. “Seriously, this world is full of judgmental assholes, and they would all be the first to throw rule books out the window if breaking the rules suited them.”
“You’re saying being with Will is against the rules?” I grimace.
“No, you’re the one saying that,” she says, picking up her glass and pointing it at me while she stands. “I’m just busting down that excuse, too. Knock it off and go let yourself be happy with that pretty, pretty man.”
Her eyes move from me to her empty glass, and she smirks.
“Refill time. And I’m sleeping here tonight,” she says, spinning and heading back inside.
I wait until the door snaps closed behind her before I let her lecture settle in. The thought of being with Will brings a smile to my face. It just happens, on autopilot, and anything that makes me smile like that can’t be wrong. Is it going to become a story, though? Is it going to be the thing people talk about, what dominates the trials and the media—Will’s interview? Does he need one more thing for the public to judge him about? First, he survived, then he nearly ruined his life. And now…he gets the girl—his dead brother’s girl.
A chirping sound pulls me out of my messy thoughts, and I shake my head when I realize Will’s jacket is still draped on the back of the chair. I pull it into my lap and feel along the pockets, finding his phone just as the call ends. Damn. I hope it wasn’t important, or about his trip—the mystery person with the sick child.
I feel the phone buzz in my palm, my body radiates with suspicion. Poison. I turn the phone in my hand to see the screen: TANYA. VOICEMAIL. My thumb hovers over the name, twitching. I’m about to give up when another buzz in my palm startles me. The message
is right there, in my hand.
TANYA: He spoke today, Will. At therapy. He said your name, and he said Daddy.
I’m shaking. My hand feels numb. I hold it with my other hand, ten fingers working together trying to convince each other not to throw the phone through the window—where I can see Will walking toward me right now.
I swallow hard, and a million things run through my head—all of them bad ideas. Will has a son. He has a son he doesn’t talk about, doesn’t share with anyone. There could be a million reasons why this is a secret he’s kept, continues to keep. It has nothing to do with me and him, with us. But yet, it so does! How can he let me get so close, but keep something so important away from me? From all of us? How does he have a son!
“Maddy?”
He’s in front of me before I have time to move, and my hands…they’re still shaking.
“I didn’t mean to look. I…I was going to bring your jacket inside, and I felt someone calling, and I didn’t want it to be about your trip. I swear, Will…”
A deep crevice forms between his eyes, his mouth tightening as he steps closer, his eyes gazing along my hands, to his phone as he pulls it into his own grip slowly. I watch his eyes while he reads. I see the way his pupils scan, his eyes widening, his expression falling. Sympathy and regret and shame—they all mix right there in one look as his eyes move up to meet mine.
“You…” my lips are trembling too much to speak, so I bring my fist to my mouth to steady them, to feel something hard against my mouth to bring back the feeling. “You…have a son.”
His eyes begin to water, and mine follow suit. I don’t even know why, but the reaction is so visceral. Will has a son who is severely disabled, and needs care and attention. Will is here. With me. Why is Will here?
“He’s the one you’re helping,” I say. His eyes fall closed and his head slumps. “He’s who you were helping before…paperwork.”
Will takes a few slow steps back, sitting in the chair I’d just lifted his jacket from. His eyes remain on the ground, and his hands clasp in front of him, his elbows on his knees. All he can do is nod slowly. He’s agreeing with me. My chest twists so tight I can’t breathe, so I bring my palms up to my cheeks, forcing myself to inhale deeply and hold it in my lungs.
