Bait

by M. Mabie

  “Hello,” he said.

  I only nodded. I had to keep my mouth shut.

  Then I saw Audrey making her way through the crowd.

  “Casey! Isn't this nice?” she asked as she sidled up next to me, linking her arm in mine. “You're sitting next to me,” she said.

  I watched Grant’s face turn from nonchalance into recognition. His head sharply cocked and his ears drew back like a dog on alert.

  “You're name is Casey?” he asked coolly.

  I don't know what you would call it, but my machismo swelled, the fact that hearing my name startled and shocked this man meant something. I didn't know what, but it was something.

  I gave him my biggest, most cocky smile. “I'm Casey,” then I offered him my hand to shake.

  He looked dumbfounded and like he was computing something. Blake's brother was right. He sort of resembled a robot.

  Be-boop. Be-boop. I’m in love with your wife. Compute that, asswad.

  “I'm Grant Kelly, it's nice to meet you,” he said, but it didn't sound like the truth. I had a feeling like he'd heard my name over the course of the last few years and that I wasn't what he was expecting.

  “Enjoy the party,” I said and then walked off to take my seat with my sister.

  I sat at our family’s table. Blake and Grant sat at Micah's. Their backs were to us and I was glad. I could feel the pull of my body towards Blake's, but I knew better.

  I played the part of happy brother as well as Blake played the part of happy wife.

  Appearances were everything. My family knew. All of them, I think. We weren't much for keeping secrets. But they played their parts, too.

  It was the one thing I could be thankful for.

  Wednesday, December 30, 2009

  I WAS THANKFUL THAT we were interrupted by speeches when Grant got back to the table from getting us drinks.

  “I just met Casey,” he said as he scooted his chair in and unfolded his napkin over his lap. He draped an arm around my chair. My mind scrambled. I'd been sick with worry all day knowing they were going to be in the same room as each other. “You should introduce us more. Later perhaps?” Grant said quietly to me as Mr. Moore addressed, and spoke about Cory and Micah, on their behalf, to the guests at the dinner.

  This was stress.

  Having my husband and my lover in the same room. Having the man I wanted and the one that I was with talking was beyond what I could handle.

  “Sure,” I said, clearing my throat. “He's Cory's brother.” Like being Cory's brother meant something to Grant.

  Food was served.

  My palms were sweaty. I willed myself not to bite at my nails.

  Music was played.

  We mingled a little, but I felt eyes on me from every angle. From Audrey who only smiled at me, to Morgan who smiled, but not for my benefit. It was the first time that real paranoia gripped me.

  Then there was the pull Casey had on me. It was exhausting knowing he was in the same room, but I couldn't turn around and look. Every move I made felt like it was both right and wrong.

  I didn't have to search for him, I knew right where he was. At least I'd never get caught looking for him, because my body was synced to his.

  “Can we say a quick goodbye to Micah and head back to the hotel? I'm getting tired,” I said to Grant. It was still a revelation, him being here. It didn't even register on my radar that he would want to come. The last time I’d invited him to join me in San Francisco was when Casey and I first met. That seemed like such a long time ago. He'd made the decision only a few weeks ago after I'd returned from a quick trip to Cincinnati.

  “Sure,” he said and kissed my forehead. “Do you see her?”

  My eyes scanned for her and Cory and I found them with Casey and Audrey. By the time I found them, Grant had already started us in their direction. When we got to them it was Grant who extended a hand first to Cory.

  “Thanks for having us tonight. It was nice to see you again. Micah, you look beautiful and very happy.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Thank you,” she said. No one made eye contact with me.

  I leaned in to hug Cory, “Good luck tomorrow,” I said, and then I hugged Micah. Hard. I wanted to cry.

  I wanted comfort from somewhere, from someone. I wanted to hug Casey. The saint that she was let me hug her until I was ready to let go.

  “Are you okay?” she asked into my hair before I pulled away.

  “I don't know. I'm just really tired,” I confessed and wiped the tear, which slid out without my permission, with the back of my hand. “I'm so happy for you.” I gave her the biggest smile I had and laughed a little when a few more tears slipped off my cheeks.

  When I left Micah's arms, I felt Grant pull me into his side.

  “Weddings make Blake emotional. Don't they, baby?” Grant asked as he rubbed my upper arm in quick strokes and gave me a little shake. “Her eyes were swollen for days after ours.”

  I looked up at him and he was looking at Casey, who was looking at me. It was the first time all night that I allowed my brown eyes to indulge in the blue of Casey’s.

  He looked so handsome. A little rough around the edges, but his hair had grown out a little on the top and it was trimmed neatly on the sides. His face was covered in a light beard. The top two buttons on his steel gray dress shirt were open and the tiny sight of his body underneath made my mouth water and my body flush.

  “Time to go,” Grant whispered into my ear. All this time, all of these days and nights, minutes and months, I'd never been in this place. Never had Grant been in my ear while I was looking at Casey like that. A chill ran up the back of my neck.

  I thought that this might be it. The second I break free and say no to Grant and yes to myself. To Casey. To the possibility of perfection. To risk giving everything to Casey, to give him more than the mere fraction of myself that I possessed.

  In my silent panic, time slowed. I watched Casey’s eyelashes dip and touch over his cheeks. My pulse thrummed in my ears. A peaceful broken smile became his face.

  I chanced a look at my husband, he turned our bodies to leave and began walking us away from them. From him.

  If I would have had the strength, I could have resisted the backward look over my shoulder. I wouldn't have seen the look on his face. I wouldn't have watched the scrap of faith in me pass past his lips in a whoosh.

  I wouldn't have seen his balled fists shoot up in the air, as he looked up and turned his back to us as well.

  My heels clicked against the marble as we walked to the doors in the front of the country club.

  Grant talked in the car.

  “The food was good,” he said.

  “Everyone seemed very nice,” he said.

  “They’re a great couple,” he said.

  “It reminded me of our wedding,” he said.

  “For some reason I thought Casey was a woman,” he said turning my blood to ice. I remember him assuming that when he’d called the day Foster was born. I didn’t react.

  I listened and smiled when I should.

  My mind split. I'd perfected the multi-tasked conversation. I was waiting for him to ask something about the tension back at the dinner, so I paid close attention to what he said with one hemisphere of my brain. But on the far side of my mind, I screamed in frustration and I wailed in agony.

  I imagined going to Casey. Letting go of Grant and running to him before, rewriting the last minutes we were at the rehearsal.

  In that car ride, I accepted that the love I had for Casey, which lived like a parasite in my heart, was the biggest part of me. It lived in every cell. My mitochondria duplicated it and spread our secrets upon generations within me.

  I had no choice and the sad truth of that realization was, that if I had had a choice, I'd probably fuck that up, too.

  Wednesday, December 30, 2009

  WE ALL MADE CHOICES. I made the choice not to put my fist through the wall behind me as they walked out of the club’s banquet hall. />
  The look on her face told me what I wanted it to. She didn't hide it very well. The fact was that she wasn't able to pretend, even with him standing right there, that she didn't want me. Her body couldn't lie to mine.

  I’d stared holes in the back of her head all night.

  I’d prayed for the second when she couldn't take it anymore. Still, the stubborn woman never looked. I watched as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, under the scrutiny of my gaze. I watched how my simply being in a room with her turned her inside out.

  One look was all it took.

  She left with him. I couldn't watch that.

  If she needed motivation to make the decision, I was going to help her.

  I was taking Aly to the wedding.

  She asked for a year.

  I'd already waited long enought. I was done waiting. I wanted her now. I sent her a message, even though we’d said we wouldn’t. I was done with that, too.

  Me: Hang-in there, honeybee. It’s going to get rough.

  I sent her that message for a few reasons. I guessed her phone was probably off and that she'd see it before bed and so I'd, most likely, be the last thing she'd think about. And also to let her know that I wasn't waiting for her to text me anymore.

  The rules had changed.

  Plus, I wanted to let her know it was almost over. I wasn’t blind to her pain. When it came to her, I could see past my own despair.

  I was going to fight.

  I was going to drag her through hell.

  I was going to make her so uncomfortable that we'd have a resolution by this time the next night. Either she was going to hate me and or she was going to crack and let her husband see what was really on the inside of her.

  A heart marked with my name.

  “Have I ever told you how good-looking you are, brother?” I said to Cory as we stood at the bar. The Hook Line and Sinker looked better than it ever had.

  Every table was covered in black linens and had large trees made out of sculpted wire lit from the inside with tiny lights. It was a great spot for a wedding and the perfect spot for a hell of a good party.

  It was a good place to meet in a bar. It was the best place to meet in a bar. It's where we met in a bar. It might have been the wrong time, but it was definitely the right place. And here we were again. I relished in fated-like, ironic feel it all had.

  “Yes, you have. And like I've told you before, you're right.” Cory retorted. “Seriously, though. You look better than I expected you to. You doing okay?”

  “I'm doing great. To the New Year,” I raised my glass to him and he brought his to mine.

  “To the New Year.” We each took a long drink.

  He added, “I see you brought Aly.”

  I looked at my feet. I knew what it appeared like to my family. It looked like a sign that I was trying to get back at her, but that wasn't it at all. I was just plain old trying to get her.

  Aly was just another nudge.

  It was wrong for me to do that to Aly, but who was keeping track of my mistakes those days? Sure as hell wasn’t me.

  “I did,” I said.

  “She cares about you.”

  “She does.” My mood wasn't set to explain mode at the moment. “Are you ready to say those vows? Not going to run?” I teased and changed the topic.

  “I'm ready,” he said as he straightened his posture. “You know, I know how lucky I am. I see you and whatever it is that you and Blake have and it's painful to watch sometimes,” he said and then thoughtfully added, “But I also know you and you wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn't worth it. I've seen you pretty torn up over this girl in the past. But something's different tonight.” He scratched his chin and laughed. “You look like you’re going to war.”

  “Maybe I am,” I deadpanned.

  “Good.” He bounced on his heels and leaned in to say conspiratorially, “Just remember this is our wedding. If you upset my wife tonight, we'll have a problem. Do what you gotta do,” he said as he walked off to a waiting Micah.

  The evening started with cocktails. Blake wore a black dress that I had a history with. If she was giving me clues, too, I was getting them loud and clear.

  I didn't hesitate to walk right over to them. They were talking to Micah’s mom and stepdad.

  “Happy New Year,” I bellowed as I came to a stop on Blake’s side. Everyone responded wishing me a Happy New Year, too.

  “So are you ready to stand up there with me Blake?” I asked, interrupting the conversation they were having and starting a new one of my own choosing.

  Blake replied, “Um, up where?”

  Grant's hand slid around her waist and pulled her in closer.

  Good. The fucker knew what my intentions were. He might not know his bride very well, but he sure as hell had me pegged right.

  “The altar.” I paused watching her eyes go wide with shock. “You know? Best man? Maid of honor? We're at a wedding? Any of this ringing a bell? I love that dress by the way.” I slipped that last bit in there as Micah's stepdad said something to Grant.

  “Have you seen my date?” I asked as Grant's attention returned to the conversation happening between his wife and me.

  “Your date?” Grant asked. “The blonde you came in with?”

  “Yeah, Aly. Have you seen her?”

  “No.” Blake answered in short. “I hadn't.” Her reaction couldn't have been better. Her nostrils flared and she took a deep breath. It was perfect; she looked like she was going to war, too.

  Cory’s term for it was spot-on. We were going to war. Except, I was going to show her, finally, that we were on the same side. We wanted the same goal.

  “Well, if you do, would you tell her I'm looking for her? Something funny just happened and I wanted to tell her about it. Well, anyway, I'll see you up there,” and I pointed to the stage that had been changed into the semblance of an altar, where my brother and her best friend were going to take their vows.

  I immediately found Aly and kissed her playfully on her neck. I didn't look to see if Blake was watching. I hoped Grant was watching, too.

  I made my way to the acoustic musicians who were playing for us that night. They were friends of Cory's through work, but I'd met most of them before. I asked them if they knew a few of my favorites and then I made a request.

  When it came time for them to say their vows, I stood opposite of Blake on the stage. Grant sat behind her, so he couldn't see her face, but he sure as hell didn’t look away from mine.

  Cory and Micah made promises to each other and to Foster, who was already at home in bed. They pledged forever and happiness and working out their future problems. Together.

  Her gaze didn't leave mine.

  I licked my lips and watched pink slash her cheeks and nose. That pink fucking nose.

  I pretended to be itching and tapped my nose as she studied me.

  That's right, honeybee, you don't fool me. You never have.

  The ceremony ended.

  Dinner was served, the music began, and first dances were had. Our sisters danced with Cory when Micah's stepdad danced with her for dance that was traditionally reserved for mothers and sons, fathers and daughters. They were good girls.

  For an acoustic band, they were a lively group. Blake spent a lot of time with Micah out on the dance floor. Grant and I met again at the bar.

  “So, you’re twins, huh?” he questioned.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “I think Blake and I are going to start trying for some kids. She was saying a few months ago that twins would be fun.” His face was ambivalent, and a forced kind of friendly. “She loves Foster. I learned tonight that you're his Godfather. I hadn’t realized. Hell, before yesterday I thought you were a woman.” He laughed and took the shot, which I hadn’t noticed, from behind his beer glass.

  “A woman, huh?” I humored him. “Why would you think that?”

  “Oh, I suppose it was just a misunderstanding.” He held a one up to Nate behind the bar asking
for another shot. Grant gave me a questioning look as to ask if I wanted one, too. I nodded.

  Nate poured them in front of us and we half-faced each other.

  “Care to make a toast, Casey?”

  Before he could make the toast I said, “Here's to misunderstandings.” He huffed and then tipped the liquor back, slapping the glass on the bar with a loud pop.

  I watched him walk back to their table and take a seat, another drink in hand.

  When I heard the beginning of D'Yer M'ker, the first song that we’d ever danced to in the very spot she was standing, I knew it was time for my next move.

  Blake's body went rigid when she realized what song was playing.

  She looked like a statue in the middle of the dance floor as I led Aly into my arms and began dancing to the song with her.

  She was either going to hate me or crack. The warrior I'd seen on stage a little bit ago didn't seem as strong.

  Holding Aly in my arms, my feet led me to face Blake and I mouthed the word “Bait.”

  Thursday, December 31, 2009

  WHEN MY FEET FINALLY moved, they took me to the ladies room. I sat in the stall for minutes trying to calm my pulse and get a grip. He was only trying to get under my skin.

  It was working.

  I hated the thought of him dancing with her. That particular song was simply the icing on the cake.

  He’d been like that all night. At every opportunity, he was talking to us, to me, to Grant.

  He loves this dress.

  This place.

  I watched them have a shot together at the bar, right after my husband had already had three. Still, Grant hadn't said anything or gave me the impression he was angry with me. He seemed pensive, like he was working something out. I knew what he was piecing together.

  I wasn't in control of the situation anymore. The only thing I could do was hang in there, like his text said last night.

  Was it a warning he’d sent? I'd taken it as a show of support.

  I pulled out my phone and replied to it.

  Me: Are you trying to hurt me?

  I washed my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. My nose really was pink. Stupid nose.