The Latecomers Fan Club

by Diane V. Mulligan

  “Forget it then,” she said, opening the plastic wrap. “I should have known better.”

  “Abby, I’m not trying to upset you. Breanna doesn’t even like me. I’m sure she’d rather I skip it. You’ll have more fun without me.”

  “Breanna is my best friend. She wants me to be happy. If you make me happy, she’ll be glad you’re there.” Abby broke a cookie in half and shoved a piece into her mouth.

  “And if I piss you off the whole time because I can’t contain how I feel about her insipid, superficial friends?”

  “You’re right. You should stay home.”

  “I might get together with Jeff and Charlie.”

  “Really?” Abby asked, her temper cooling a little. “Are you guys getting back together?” She knew Nathaniel hadn’t talked to his bandmates in months. He was so much happier when they were playing. He had been goofing around with his guitar in the past couple of weeks, which she had interpreted as a good sign.

  “We’re just going to hang out, get a drink, you know. Maybe it won’t even happen. Charlie probably forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”

  “Oh. Okay, well whatever.”

  “Look, I’ll talk to you Sunday.”

  Abby hung up the phone and looked at the little black dress hanging on the back of her closet door for the party. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered.

  Breanna helped Abby come up with party strategies so that she wouldn’t have to explain why she wasn’t drinking. If a woman turns down a glass of wine, everyone assumes she’s pregnant. If Abby weren’t pregnant, she could laugh that off, but in her current state, she was afraid her face would give her away. Rather than risking it, she stuck several school-lunch style apple juice boxes in her oversized purse. The plan was to get a glass of white wine, sneak off to the ladies room, dump out the wine, pour the juice in, and voilá—no secrets revealed.

  “You know you could have one glass of wine,” Breanna said as they walked up and down the juice aisle of the grocery store, trying to decide which apple juice could most easily pass as wine. “One glass isn’t going to make your baby retarded.”

  “Well, I’ll use my one glass for the toast,” Abby said.

  “Oh, right.”

  “The maid of honor can’t skip the toast,” Abby said. “See, I’m always thinking.”

  “Smart.”

  Even with a plan, though, Abby was nervous about the party. Pat’s parents were formal, proper people, and their friends intimidated her. She always felt like she had lettuce stuck in her teeth or something when she talked to them. She would have been nervous about the party even in the best of circumstances.

  “You’ll be fine. Pat’s mom thinks you’re adorable,” Breanna said, assuring her.

  “Will she still think I’m adorable with my cleavage bursting from my little black dress?” Abby asked. It was as if, as soon as she knew she was pregnant, her breasts decided to grow a cup-size a day. The dress used to fit her like a glove, but now it fit like her little sister’s glove.

  “You have boobs for the first time in your life—enjoy them,” Breanna counseled. She had been well endowed since middle school, so she had plenty of experience with managing cleavage.

  Abby decided to take a cab to the party instead of the T. It made her feel a little better about arriving alone. She stepped out into the cold night in front of the Brookline townhouse and took a deep breath. She was happy for Breanna, she really was, but it was hard not to feel sorry for herself. Where was her engagement party? Where were her exciting wedding plans? It looked like she’d be skipping ahead straight to the baby shower. In the foyer, the caterers had someone to take guests’ coats. Abby offered hers and clicked across the marble floor towards the sound of laughter. She braced herself, forced a smile, and passed through the doorway.

  “There she is!” Pat’s mother said, seeing her. She rushed over and embraced Abby and motioned to one of the servers to bring Abby a glass of champagne. “The maid of honor! You look lovely, dear.”

  Abby murmured a thank you and scanned the room for Breanna. She and Pat were in the far corner, surrounded by Pat’s father’s friends. She noticed Breanna’s older sister Sonia hovering over the hors d’oeuvres and made her way across the room.

  “Bree didn’t tell me you were coming down,” Abby said.

  “It was last minute. She guilted me into it.” Sonia added a few shrimp cocktail to her little plate.

  “She’s good at that.”

  “This food is really good, though,” Sonia said, gesturing vaguely to the table. “And they were bringing around little bites, too. The risotto balls are so good.”

  Abby nodded. She hoped Sonia’s feelings weren’t hurt that she was Breanna’s maid of honor. Although she suspected that Sonia didn’t really want that duty, she probably would have liked to be asked. She was eight years older than Breanna, and they had never been especially close. Where Breanna was loud and outgoing, Sonia was quiet and shy. Where Breanna was independent and adventurous, Sonia was withdrawn and timid. She had lived at home with her parents until two years ago when she shocked everyone by moving to Portsmouth for a job at the historical society there. She often struck Abby as terribly immature. She was the sort of person who forgot to pay her phone bill until service was shut off and who didn’t know to turn off the valve on the toilet if it started to overflow. Smart but no common sense was how Breanna would describe her.

  “I feel really underdressed,” Sonia said, between bites of shrimp. She was wearing a long corduroy skirt, a plain cotton turtleneck, and clogs.

  “You look fine,” Abby said, unconvincingly.

  “I wish I had your sense of style,” Sonia said, looking Abby up and down. “Put on a little weight, though, didn’t you?”

  It was the sort of thing Sonia was always saying that made her a poor choice for tasks like maid of honor. “Yeah, I guess. I’ll have to diet before the wedding,” Abby said, sighing as she considered the whole truth of that statement. Pat was determined to be married before the year was out, something about his lucky number.

  “Whatever. You’ll be the star. I mean, I know it’s Bree’s day, but you always look great. I guess she’ll be on a diet, though. Aside from me and you, the bridesmaids are short and fat. I’m sure she’d be delighted if you packed on a few more pounds.”

  Sonia was in a particularly mean spirit, it seemed, and Abby wished there were more people at the party whom she knew. Two of the other bridesmaids couldn’t be there because they lived out of town.

  “Are your parents here?” Abby asked, scanning the room. It wasn’t far from Peterborough to Boston, certainly not far enough to be an excuse to miss their daughter’s engagement party.

  “Oh yes. They came down this afternoon. I guess mom and Bree spent the afternoon shopping and getting their nails done with Pat’s mom, while the boys sat around watching golf or something.”

  “Where are they now?” Abby asked. She didn’t see them anywhere.

  “I think Pat’s dad is giving them the tour of the old homestead.” Sonia stuffed another piece of shrimp in her mouth. It drove Breanna nuts how Sonia could eat all day and never gain an ounce, while Breanna had to stick to her diet to stay a size twelve.

  After a few minutes, Abby saw Breanna’s parents follow Pat’s father into the room. He found his wife and she clinked a spoon against her champagne glass to quiet everyone down.

  “Well, now that the gang’s all here,” she said, looking around the room and smiling down upon her guests. “Perhaps some introductions are in order. While you kids are ready to party the night away, it’s practically bed time for us old timers.” A few people laughed politely. “Come on over here, you lovebirds,” she said, waving Breanna and Pat towards her. “And where’s the rest of the wedding party? Come on, come on.”

  Abby picked up her half-empty champagne glass and walked around the room
to stand beside her friend. Sonia followed her.

  “You all know our Patrick, and I think most of you have met Breanna.” Breanna gave a little wave with one hand and clung to Pat with her other. “I’m just so excited that I’m finally going to have a daughter,” Pat’s mom said. “While the boys still have me outnumbered, at least now I’ll have one ally in my corner.” She paused to smile at Breanna. “You know when the boys were little I used to joke that maybe one of them would turn out to be gay so at least I’d have someone to go shopping with.” She paused for the laughter of her friends. Abby had only met her a few times, but she’d heard that joke at least twice before. Her eyes met those of one of Pat’s younger brothers. He winked. “I never had much hope that any of them, let alone Pat, would find a young woman so lovely who would actually return his affection.” More laughter. “Good luck with this one, sweetie,” she said, looking at Breanna. She raised her glass and a few people said, “Here, here!”

  “Gee, thanks, mom,” Pat said and then he gave Breanna a kiss on the cheek.

  “We want to introduce the rest of the wedding party, too,” Pat’s mom rushed to say, realizing that if she didn’t speak fast, she might lose the spotlight.

  “You all know our other boys, Wes, Brian, and Rich, who will be Pat’s groomsmen.” Pat’s brothers stood in a line beside him, all subtle variations of the same freckled face, blue eyes, and dusty-colored hair. “And his best man, Adam.” Adam had been Pat’s roommate in college. Abby only met him once before because he lived in New York. He was tall, several inches taller than Pat, with dark hair and deep-set dark eyes. He was the sort of guy who walks into a room and every head turns to see who the movie star is. “And yes, ladies, this one is still available, so you single gals will have to be ready to catch that bouquet.” Adam didn’t even blush at this remark. So much for modesty, Abby thought. “And we have Breanna’s sister, Sonia, and her maid of honor, Abby. Her other bridesmaids couldn’t be here tonight, unfortunately.” Abby looked at the floor as all eyes in the room studied her and Sonia for a moment.

  “So let’s all raise our glasses,” Pat’s father said. “To the happy couple! And to all the happy couples in this room who are so kindly sharing Valentine’s Day with us. May Patrick and Breanna learn from your examples.”

  Abby clinked her glass with Sonia and drank the last sip of her champagne. All the happy couples. She hated Valentine’s Day. She wondered how long Breanna would expect her to stay now that the fanfare was over. As the wedding party scattered throughout the room, Abby found Breanna’s parents and lingered with them for a while, smiling and nodding and responding to the small talk of Pat’s parents friends who came over to introduce themselves to the maid of honor. Finally, around nine o’clock, she was thinking it was late enough that she could take off, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw Adam standing beside her.

  “Everyone’s going downstairs,” he said. “We can leave the grown-ups to talk business and politics.”

  “You know, I’m pretty tired,” Abby said. “I was thinking I might hit the road.”

  “Oh no, I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.”

  “I’m just not feeling—”

  “Do you think Breanna’s going to accept some lame excuse for skipping the fun part of the party from her maid of honor?”

  Actually, she might, given the circumstances, Abby thought, but she didn’t argue.

  “Downstairs” was the basement game room, which was fully equipped with a bar, a pool table, and a large-screen TV on which two of Pat’s brothers were playing Wii bowling. Abby’s feet were killing her from standing in her high heels on the hard floor upstairs for the past two hours, and the big leather couch looked soft and inviting. She slipped her feet from her shoes and flopped down, happy to sit by herself for a moment, but Adam didn’t give her long. He sat down and offered her a full glass of red wine.

  “Oh,” Abby said, taking the glass. Adam sat down beside her. She hadn’t had to resort to her apple-juice trick, because after the champagne toast, no one seemed to notice that her glass was empty, and now she had a glass of red wine before her and no plan. It hadn’t occurred to her to plan for red because she always chose white. She took a little sip and set the glass down.

  “You don’t like it? I can get you something else.” He leaned forward as if to stand.

  “You know, I can get it myself,” Abby said, heaving herself upright with a great effort. “I’ll be right back.”

  A few moments later, Abby returned with a glass of “white wine” and settled back into the couch. To her dismay, Breanna and Pat hadn’t yet made their way to the basement. A few of Breanna’s work friends were lingering by the pool table and watching Pat’s brothers at their video game, but it wasn’t much of a party.

  “I’m sure the lovebirds will be down after they’ve said goodbye to their guests,” Adam said, as if reading her mind. “We’ve met before, right?” he asked when Abby didn’t say anything.

  “Uh, yeah, at the cape last summer, I think.”

  “That’s right. And how do you know Breanna again?”

  “Oh, God, we’ve known each other since we were like three. We met at dance class, and we’ve been best friends ever since. We share an apartment now.”

  “How unusual,” Adam said, crossing his leg and leaning back against the arm of the couch.

  “Really? I think that’s how lots of kids meet.”

  “No, I mean, I don’t know a lot of people who stay so close with their childhood friends.”

  “Oh.” Abby could feel Breanna’s other friends watching her and Adam. She was sure they’d love some of his attention. In truth, she wondered why he was so interested in her. The summer before when they met, he’d hardly acknowledged her at all. She noticed his eyes drift to her cleavage. If only he knew, she thought.

  At last Breanna and Pat descended the stairs.

  “I’m ready for a real drink,” Pat said, yanking his tie loose.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Breanna said, coming over and snuggling in next to Abby. “Sorry if I left you hanging.”

  “Adam here has been keeping me company.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, if we’re going to be paired up at the wedding, I figured we should get to know each other,” Adam said.

  “Should we blow this popsicle stand? Who wants to head downtown?” Pat said.

  “Yes, please,” Adam said, standing and stretching. “Not that your parents aren’t great hosts, but I’m ready for a more lively scene.”

  Abby looked at Breanna and shook her head. There was no way she was going out to some pricey bar or loud club. She was tired and ready to ditch her fancy clothes for sweats. She was ready to dig in to a tub of Ben & Jerry’s and fall asleep and wake up and have it be just another day again, instead of a day that was supposed to be special but that only reminded her of how screwed up everything was.

  “Okay,” Breanna said, “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Not joining us?” Adam said.

  “Not tonight.”

  Abby followed Breanna back up stairs and they found her coat in the den.

  “Adam’s pretty hot, right?” Breanna asked.

  “Yeah, he’s gorgeous. He’ll look great in your pictures.”

  “So was he flirting with you?”

  “Hardly.” Abby pulled on her coat and tugged her hair out over the collar.

  “I saw how he was looking at you.”

  “Right.” Abby knew what Breanna was up to. This was a favorite of hers. She liked to take Abby out and insist that guys were hitting on her or giving her the eye, and then she’d point out that if Abby just ditched Nathaniel, she could find someone so much better, and better looking. “He’ll love me in a few months when my boobs are so big that I can’t stand up straight. Or better yet, when I see him at your wedding and I’m a nursing mo
ther. That’ll be awesome.”

  “What was that?” a voice said behind them. They turned to see Pat standing in the doorway. “I just came to see if I could change your mind about coming out with us, but I guess now I know why you just want to go home.” He walked into the room and enveloped Abby in a big hug. Then he stepped back and said, “Congratulations?” as if he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react.

  “Thanks,” Abby said.

  “So where the hell was Nathaniel tonight?” Pat asked, putting the pieces together.

  Abby shrugged.

  “Well, we’re here if you need us. Did you call a cab?”

  “I’ll just walk up to Beacon Street and catch the T,” Abby said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m calling you a cab.” When the cab arrived, Pat walked her out and reached in to hand the cabbie cash, undoubtedly more than enough for the fare. Every woman should be so lucky as to have a man like Pat, she thought.

  That night, Abby took off her dress and laid it out on her bed to admire the supple fabric and flattering cut. She hoped she’d be able to wear it again someday, but that would mean having better luck than her mother. Please let me take after my dad’s side, she thought as she dropped the dress in the laundry bin.

  Nathaniel

  As Nathaniel promised when he made his pact with Maggie, he’d been trying to write some new songs. The more he picked up his guitar while he was sitting around at home, the more he wanted to get back on stage. It was time for a Latecomers reunion, and all he had to do was get the rest of the guys on board.

  He met them at a sports bar Charlie liked in the Back Bay. Although it was Valentine’s Day, or perhaps because of it, the bar was mostly empty, populated by a few middle-aged men. Nathaniel found Charlie and Jeff sitting at a high-top table in the back of the room.