I could hardly judge her on that.
I glance over the navy blue chiffon dress draped over my softened curves. It was a lovely dress handpicked by my personal stylists, whom I affectionately dubbed Bry-ghan, but I still felt as big as a house. It is a far cry from the size-8 number I wore ten years ago. And I know damned well everyone is going to notice. I sigh and Meghan swats my shoulder.
“What was that for?”
“I know what you’re thinking. You look great. Now shut up.”
Olive arrives ten before seven, decked out in a pinstriped tuxedo with a silk maroon shirt and sparkly black bow tie, topped off with a Fedora over her short cropped hair. She carries one red rose in her hand, which she offers. “My lady.”
“Oh my God,” I groan. “Look at you! You know what people are going to think.”
“Yes, I do,” she grins. “And I could give less than a fuck. And so could you. Besides. I hear Bryan is coming in drag.”
“What?” I squeak.
“Come on,” she says.
I turn desperately to my daughter. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I ask again as Olive pulls me from the doorway with one hand. “You could film it all and put it on YouTube. It’d be fun!”
Meghan follows us out onto the sidewalk, waving. “Bye, Mom. Have fun! Love you!”
I sink down into the seat in the limo. “Is there champagne at least?” I ask and Olive delivers a stern look. “You’re doing this straight,” she said. “So to speak.” She pops a kiss on my nose before honking my breast for good measure. “By the way, you look beautiful. Save the last dance for me.”
“You’re hilarious,” I say.
“I know,” she replies.
I contemplate bribing the driver to turn us back around the entire way to the venue, which is once again off the coast in Newport Beach. Like I need any reminders of the last one. I can barely breathe by the time we reach the resort and step out of the car. “I’m going to vomit,” I tell Olive.
“I brought barf bags,” she assures.
From the moment I step out of the car, I feel exposed. I know everyone is staring, and I’m petrified at the thought of coming face to face with Dylan again. I’m not ready to see him again. In fact, it’s on my to-do list of one to avoid him at all costs. Every step I take is vulnerable and I know it. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the elevator closes behind us.
“Baby steps,” Olive encourages with a gentle pat.
When the elevator opens again, we walk a few feet to the ballroom where the reunion is being held. We pick up our tags, and I realize that both Dylan’s and Bryan’s are still flat on the table. They’re not here yet. This is good news.
Olive leads me over to the bar and orders me a cranberry fizz. I nearly wrestle her for her Cosmopolitan but she is firm. No alcohol. She won’t even let me eat the sushi appetizers. Instead I snack on crackers to keep the bile from rising in my stomach.
I’m a nervous wreck as I spot a blonde making a beeline for us at the bar.
It’s Charlie Charlotte, only she doesn’t look like a Spice Girl anymore. She has gained back about thirty of her hundred pounds, which rounds her out into a more matronly figure. She’s soft as I hug her. “Look at you!” she squeals. “You look amazing.”
“You too.”
She laughs. “Yeah, right. What I wouldn’t give to look like I looked ten years ago!” She sighs. “But I had twin boys three years ago, so you know how that goes.” She waves over a studious man she introduces as Lionel. He is tall and thin, with dark rimmed glasses and skin the color of caramel. “This is my husband.”
He takes my hand in his for a gentle kiss. “Charlie has told me so much about you,” he says.
I look down at her with an arched eyebrow. “Charlie?”
She shrugs. “You can’t run from who you are, can you? I’ll always be Charlie. It took meeting Li to see that there was nothing in the world wrong with that.”
Olive approaches and Charlie squeals. “Olive, is that you?!”
Olive nods and they embrace. “You look amazing, Mama,” she compliments and Charlie marvels at the changes in our mutual friend.
“So do you! I’ve followed your career online. Li even bought us a print for our anniversary. Hangs right in our living room.”
“No shit,” Olive says and we all laugh. “I think that deserves a spin around the dance floor.” She holds her hand out to Lionel. “I’ll let you lead.”
He chuckles and they disappear, so I turn back to Charlie, who has now turned serious. “I’m glad I got to see you again, Roni. I felt just awful about how things ended last time around.”
I scrunch my brow. “What do you mean?”
She takes another big sip of her champagne cocktail. “I lied to you,” she confesses in a tiny voice.
“About what?”
“About Dylan.”
That has my attention. “How so?”
“We didn’t sleep together, Roni. I mean, not for lack of trying but he just wasn’t interested in me. He flirted, but I think it was to make you jealous or piss of your husband… or… who knows? Anyway the minute we left the hotel, he took me straight home. I got nothing more than a kiss on the cheek goodbye.”
I am puzzled. “So why did you lie?”
She sighed again. “When I went to that first reunion, I had a lot to prove. I didn’t want to be Fat Charlie anymore. I wanted to be the belle of the ball, the star of the show. We spent so many years being picked on for being different, I just wanted to show ‘em all.”
“I get that. But why lie to me?”
“Why? Because you weren’t a phony like me. You had the husband, the job, the money, the kid. You’d done it all, Roni. I was so jealous of you I had to get the one thing you couldn’t. And it was clear Dylan was crazy about you. He couldn’t stop asking about you all the way to my apartment. He wanted to know if you were happy.”
“What’d you say?”
“I said that you married well and had a rich man to take care of you. Why wouldn’t you be?” Tears glisten in her eyes. “I was still Charlie deep down, accepting way less than I deserved because I thought I deserved it. The only rich men I could land were men who were already married, who wanted to keep me on the side like a toy.” She takes an even bigger breath. “I slept with Wade, Roni. I’m sorry.”
I blink in confusion. “What? When?”
“The same year as the reunion. He called me just before Labor Day, wanted to use me as a model for one of his accounts. And I know it was a shitty, shitty thing to do, but I was kind of messed up back then. I didn’t know who I was or where I wanted to go. It took meeting Li a few years later to really pull my head back out of my ass.”
I do the math in my head. September 1998 was when I slept with Dylan for the first time, and Wade kicked me out… right after fucking one of my best friends from high school. I can tell that Charlie is surprised by my reaction when I start to laugh. In fact, I can’t stop laughing. I pull her into a hug and squeeze her tight.
“You forgive me?” she asks.
“Forgive you?” I repeat. “I thank you! You just took the biggest weight right off of my shoulders and you don’t even know it.”
“I would have called you sooner but I was so embarrassed. How do you tell your best friend you slept with her husband?”
“You told me now,” I tell her. “And that’s all that counts.”
When Olive and Lionel return, he takes his wife in his arms to lead her to the dance floor. “Good talk?” Olive asks.
“The best,” I tell her. “Turns out Charlie is still a Leftover through and through.”
“Oh yeah?” she says. “That makes two of us.”
I’m stunned by her admission. “What do you mean?”
“Darling, I love you, but I gave up sausage years ago. Without you there, there was nothing Dylan could offer me I wanted. He took me home, we got high and watched a movie. That was it.”
“Why did you let me believe otherwise?
”
“I never said one way or the other. What you believe is your own business.”
I’m aghast. And then the moment I am dreading is upon me. I see Dylan walk in with Bryan at his side. They scan the room and I know they are looking for me. I push Olive in front of me to keep my hiding place a little longer. I peer over her shoulder and watch as they mingle with the crowd. Dylan wears a big smile and Bryan hangs triumphantly off of his arm. All of Dylan’s jock friends from high school don’t know what to make of it, especially when the two handsome men hit the dance floor. Our jaws collectively drop as they start dancing together to “Let’s Hear it for the Boy.”
“What the fuck?” I breathe.
“What can I tell you?” Olive quips. “We have a powerfully seductive conversion program.” She sticks her tongue out to touch her nose and I swat her playfully.
After both Charlie’s and Olive’s revelations, I’m not quite prepared to believe what I see, even if Dylan is getting into the spirit of things a little too well. By the time they head to the bar, I forget that I’m not speaking to him. I need to know what the fuck is going on.
Charlie sleeping with Wade, she has my condolences. Bryan sleeping with Dylan? The earrings are coming off and I’m going to cut a bitch.
Dylan stops in front of me where I sit perched on barstool. “Roni,” he greets softly, and I curse the effect he still has on me after all this time.
“Dylan,” I manage. “Anything you want to share?”
“Maybe,” he says as he grabs a glass of punch. “Ladies first.”
“That’s ambiguous. Maybe we should decide tops or bottoms.”
He laughs. “I’m a top, baby. You know that.”
I shiver all over. God, I have missed him. “Seriously. I only came because I was offered a front row seat to the event of the season. What do you and Bry have up your sleeves?”
“There’s just no telling. You may have to take me upstairs to a private room and look for yourself.”
“God, Dylan,” I snap. “Why do you feel the need to tease me?”
“Who’s teasing? That’s a bona fide offer.” His hand touches my hair. “I’ve missed you, Roni.”
I look away before he sees the truth… that I miss him, too, so bad sometimes I can barely breathe. How did anyone ever get over Dylan Fenn?
“How’s Emma?” I ask.
He leans against the railing of the bar. “She’s great. Fabulous girl. Tremendous cook. And funny.”
I get madder by the second. “Thanks for the detailed analysis.”
He suppresses a smile. “And how’s everything with Bryan?”
“You should know. He is your date, after all.”
“Yeah, funny that,” Dylan says. “All these years and I had no idea he was gay until he showed up on my doorstep and kissed me.”
My eyes swing around to his face. “He kissed you?”
Dylan nods. “Tongue and all. I was so shocked I couldn’t move. He pulls away and announces that one of you ‘bitches,’ as he says, would land me at this reunion. If it wasn’t going to be you, it was going to be him.” His eyes meet mine. “So I guess I’m really hoping you’ll help a friend out here.”
I tilt my chin. “I just want you to be where you want to be.”
He leans forward. “I’m always where I want to be,” he says. “Scratch that. I’m always where I want to be except for the last six months.” His eyes soften. “I’ve been miserable without you, Roni. Every damned day. I want you. Past, present and future, no matter what that means.”
“Watch what you say,” I warn. “You may get more than what you bargain for.”
“More,” he repeats. “I’ve always been terrified of more.” I nod. I know. “But I know now that doesn’t even scratch the surface of how bad it hurts to have less.” He takes my hand in his. “I love you, Veronica Lawless. I always have. And I know now that I always will.”
Tears course down my face. I had been waiting a lifetime to hear those words. “Well, that’s a relief,” I say as I slip from the barstool and smooth my chiffon gown over my slightly protruding tummy.
His eyes widen as he stares down at me. “What? When?”
“Christmas,” I answer. “I had just found out the morning you left.”
“Oh, baby,” he croons as he pulls me into a tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were being a huge asshole,” I say, which makes him laugh.
“Yeah. That sounds like me.”
“But what about Emma?”
He chuckles as he cuddles me like a teddy bear. “I’m sure her girlfriend will console her.”
“She’s gay?”
“Yeah, I was her beard… or her lipstick… or her mascara. I really don’t know how these things work but suffice it to say, there’s only been one girl for me since she kissed me on a merry-go-round thirty years ago. And if I wasn’t such an idiot, I’d have married her when I had the chance.”
“You are an idiot,” I say through tears. “You’re lucky I love you anyway.”
He pulls back to stare into my face. His eyes are full of tears of their own. He plants a kiss on my mouth that warms me right to my toes, and our unborn daughter dances in my womb. “Promise me one thing,” he says softly. “Never stop.”
I caress his face. “I haven’t yet, have I?”
As if on cue, Kenny Loggins’ “Forever” begins to play. I spot Bryan, Olive and Charlie near the DJ’s booth, all of them giving me a thumbs up. Dylan leads me to the dance floor and I fold into his arms. Finally I realize how well I fit, how well I’ve always fit… at any age, at any size, at any place in my life.
I lay my head on his strong shoulder, knowing I am at home at last.
THE END
About the Author
Ginger Voight is a screenwriter and bestselling author with over twenty published titles in fiction and nonfiction. She covers everything from travel to politics in nonfiction, as well as romance, paranormal, and dark, “ripped from the headlines” topics like Dirty Little Secrets.
Ginger discovered her love for writing in sixth grade, courtesy of a Halloween assignment. From then on, writing became a place of solace, reflection, and security. This was never more true than when she found herself homeless in L.A. at the age of nineteen. There, she wrote her first novel, longhand on notebook paper, while living out of her car.
In 1995, after she lost her nine-day-old son, she worked through her grief by writing the story that would eventually becomeThe Fullerton Family Saga.
In 2011, she embarked on a new journey—to publish romance novels starring heroines who look more like the average American woman. These "Rubenesque" romances have developed a following thanks to her bestselling Groupieseries. Other titles, such as the highly-rated New Adult series, Fierce, tap into the "reality-TV" preoccupation in American entertainment, which gives her contemporary stories a current, pop culture edge.
Known for writing gut-twisting angst, Ginger isn’t afraid to push the envelope with characters who are perfectly imperfect. Whether rich, poor, sweet, selfish, gay, straight, plus-size or svelte, her characters are beautifully flawed and three-dimensional. They populate her lavish fictional landscapes and teach us more about the real world in which we live simply through their interactions with each other. Ginger’s goal with every book is to give the reader a little bit more than they were expecting, told through stories they'll never forget.
For more, please visit gingervoight.com.
Please follow Ginger on Twitter @GingerVoight and “like” her author page on Facebook for all the latest news on public appearances and new releases.
Writing Playlist
“99 Luftballoons” - Nena
“1999” – Prince
“After All” – Cher and Peter Cetera
“Alive and Kicking” – Simply Red
“All Cried Out” – Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam
“All Night Long (All Night)” – Lionel Richie
“The
All Nighter” – Glenn Frey
“All She Wants to Do is Dance” – Don Henley
“Alphabet Street” - Prince
“Another Brick in the Wall” – Pink Floyd
“Another One Bites the Dust” - Queen
“Armageddon It” – Def Leppard
“Atomic” – Blondie
“Authority Song” John Mellencamp
“Axel F” – Harold Faltermeyer
“Back to Life” – Soul II Soul
“Bad Reputation” – Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
“Bang, Bang” – Cher
“Beat It” – Michael Jackson
“Beds are Burning” – Midnight Oil
“Better Be Good to Me” – Tina Turner
“Billie Jean” – Michael Jackson
“Bitch” – Meredith Brooks
“The Boys of Summer” – Don Henley
“Bringing on the Heartbreak” – Def Leppard
“Burning Down the House” – Talking Heads
“Candy” - Cameo
“Cars” – Gary Numan
“Centerfold” – J Geils Band
“Come On Eileen” – Dexy’s Midnight Runners
“Come to My Window” – Melissa Etheridge
“Crazy Train” – Ozzy Osbourne
“Cream” - Prince
“Creep” - Radiohead
“Crumblin' Down” – John Mellencamp
“Cum On Feel the Noize” – Quiet Riot
“Cuts Like a Knife” – Bryan Adams
“Dancing in the Dark” – Bruce Springsteen
“Dancing in the Street” – Van Halen
“Dead Man's Party” – Oingo Boingo
“Delirious” – Prince
“The Devil Went Down to Georgia” – Charlie Daniels Band
“Diamonds and Pearls” – Prince
“Don't Bring Me Down” – ELO
“Don't Come Around Here No More” – Tom Petty
“Don't Fight It” – Kenny Loggins & Steve Perry
“Don't Stop Believin'” – Journey
“Don't Stop Till You Get Enough” – Michael Jackson
“Dr. Feelgood” – Motley Crue
“Epic” – Faith No More
The Leftover Club Page 30
