“You think Superman was never a newspaper comic?” Rodney challenged, raising his eyebrows.
“I still think the majority of superheroes have them,” J.J. said stubbornly, clearly trying to get us back on track.
There was a beeping sound coming from Bill’s tablet, and he glanced down at it. “I should get going,” he said. “Need to go over some last-minute checks with my uncle.” I nodded, giving silent thanks that Pland had sent Bill and Will to us. I didn’t even want to imagine what things might have looked like without them. “I’ll be at the house first thing tomorrow to help get everything ready for the big day.”
“Great,” Rodney said, standing up and reaching out to shake Bill’s hand. “Thanks for everything. We really appreciate it.” Bill nodded and lifted his hand in a wave before continuing out the front door of the Inn.
I turned to my brothers, ready to jump back into the discussion, when I felt my purse start to buzz. I immediately slid off my barstool—I was pretty sure this was Siobhan calling, reminding me that I’d meant to call her back. But this was perfect timing, because things had wound down enough that we could finally talk. “Just going to take this,” I said, then hurried across the lobby. I pulled out my phone as I walked, and then nearly dropped it when I saw that it was Jesse calling me.
“Hi,” I said, answering the phone as I looked around. I glanced at my brothers and brother-to-be, but they were all still at the bar, arguing about superheroes and paying no attention to me.
“Hey, you,” he said easily, and just the sound of his voice was enough to make me feel like my insides were slowly turning to liquid. “Where are you?”
“I’m still at the Inn,” I said. As I spoke, I realized that maybe this was the first time Jesse and I had ever talked on the phone—beyond him calling the landline for Mike when we were in elementary and early middle school, before we got our own phones. And even then, those conversations had never been more than Sure, hold on a second. Let me get him.
“I meant where in the building,” Jesse said, a laugh in his voice, and I realized that he was still here—he hadn’t left yet. And he wanted to see me.
“Oh,” I said, spinning in a circle, my heart starting to beat hard, trying to figure out how best to describe where I was. “I’m kind of like off to the side of the main lobby, over by the check-in counter? And—”
A hand snaked around my waist and I jumped, then turned and saw Jesse, phone to his ear, giving me a half smile. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hi,” I said. I smiled wide, then tried to tone it down a little as I lowered my phone and pressed the button to end the call. “I didn’t see you—or Mike—so I wasn’t sure if you’d left.”
“Without seeing you?” he asked, taking a step closer and giving me an easy smile. “Never.” He glanced around. “I’m not sure where Mike went to. I saw him talking to your dad earlier, and it looked like kind of an intense conversation, so I thought I’d give him some space.”
“Ah,” I said, glancing around the lobby, like Mike might suddenly reappear. But this didn’t sound great—if Mike had been arguing with our dad too, that meant he’d fought with both our parents in a very short time, which meant he was doing just what I’d thought he would do—bring drama into Linnie’s wedding. I could feel my frustration with him start to bubble up again.
“So,” Jesse said, moving a step closer to me. “Want to get out of here?” I’d taken a breath to respond, when I noticed, across the lobby, my parents and Rodney’s sitting together in a cluster of armchairs, talking and laughing.
Jesse seemed to notice this as well and took a step away, tipping his head to the right. I glanced around, making sure nobody was watching—nobody seemed to be—and followed a few steps behind him, down the hallway. Jesse headed into a room I hadn’t ever noticed before, and I followed him in. He shut the door behind me and I looked around.
“Wow,” I said. It was a games room, with a pool table in the center, pool cues in holders all along one wall, and a series of dartboards along another. There were whiskey-colored leather sofas—the kind that had round feet and looked almost tufted—and what looked like a very stocked bar cart in the corner. “How did you know about this?”
“I went to a lot of bar and bat mitzvahs here.”
“I did too,” I said immediately. “Do you remember Ariel Franken’s? She had the early-Hollywood theme?” Jesse and I hadn’t gone to many social events together, but I remembered every one in blinding detail.
Jesse frowned, looking up slightly, like he was trying to bring something to mind. “I think I went to that one. . . .”
“You did,” I said immediately. “You, me, and Mike ended up in the photo booth together. Don’t you remember? You were—”
“Wow,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “You’ve got a good memory.”
I smiled. I didn’t want to tell him that, when it came to him, I had a perfect memory. “I just remember that you—”
“Charlie.” Jesse took a step closer to me. “We don’t need to talk about kid stuff.”
“Right,” I said quickly, suddenly feeling the gap in our ages. He was in college, after all. Why was I trying to talk about things that happened years ago? But it was right there in my mind, so vivid I couldn’t believe he hadn’t remembered. He’d worn a black tie with white stripes, and during the last song, we’d danced together. It was one of the Jesse memories I had turned over and over in my mind so often that the edges had all been worn smooth, like sea glass. We’d been dancing in a group, but for one perfect moment, he’d reached out, taken my hand, and spun me around twice before letting me go, leaving me dizzy from more than the dancing.
“And after all,” he said, bringing me back into the present as he came even closer. “We’ve got more important things to talk about.” But Jesse didn’t say anything else. He just he took my head in his hands, leaned in, and kissed me.
And just like that, it was as though no time had passed. It was like we were pressing play again on a song that had been paused right before the beat drop—that easily, we were back in it. In the months that had passed, I would sometimes wonder if I’d remembered it correctly, or if time and far too much going over the events of that night had clouded my memory. That maybe Jesse really hadn’t been that good a kisser. That I’d let my imagination run away with me.
But all it took was one kiss for me to remember that I hadn’t gotten it wrong. If anything, I hadn’t remembered just how good it was. We were falling into a rhythm together right away. In a matter of seconds, I was breathless, my heart beating hard and my hands twining in Jesse’s hair.
He walked me backward toward one of the leather couches, then somehow managed to ease me down onto it, all without stopping kissing me. “Did I mention,” he said, in between kisses, “just how nice it is to see you again?”
I laughed at that and kissed him back as he ran his hand along the side of my silk dress. “So,” he said, just as there was a loud, electronic-sounding beep. It wasn’t my phone, and Jesse paused for a moment before leaning in again—just as it beeped four more times, in quick succession.
“I’ll turn that off,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and then frowning down at the screen.
“Everything okay?”
“You tell me,” he said, handing me the phone. “They’re all from Mike.”
I took it from him, feeling my eyes widen as I read through them.
Mike
Hey man. Where’d you go?
I’m hiding in the back of the lobby trying to avoid my parents
Family drama—what’s new
My mom thinks that this is a great time to like go inot everything
Like in the middle of the rehearsal dinner
And my dad’s mad at me too
He would have yelled at me if you were there too I know
They seem to think me being g here means I want to have a wholething about it
Annnnyyyyywayyyyyyyy
Where did you
go? Text me text me
text me
I looked up from the phone and handed it back to Jesse. “It kind of sounds like he’s drunk.”
Jesse nodded. “That’s what I thought too. I recognize a Mike drunk text. Usually there’s more autocorrect mistakes, though.”
“But . . .” I tried to figure out how this could even be possible. I’d seen Danny get him a drink from the bar, but then it looked like Mike had just been slowly sipping it all night. Unless . . . I suddenly realized the much more probable answer was that he’d been getting refills from the waiters, which meant he might be something like four or five drinks in. And I wasn’t sure I wanted Mike, full of liquid courage, to suddenly start telling my parents what he thought about them. “I think we should go find him.”
Jesse nodded and gave me a steady look. “We’ll sort Mike out,” he said, reaching to take my hand, sending shivers throughout my body, “and then . . .”
I had been waiting for him to finish the sentence, but a moment later I realized what he was implying. For just a second, a headline flashed across my mind—Clueless Virgin Very Slow on Uptake.
We headed back into the lobby, and I saw that my brothers, Rodney, and Bill were no longer at the bar—I didn’t see them anywhere. “He said he was in the lobby—” I stopped short when I saw Mike was standing near the restaurant entrance, swaying on his feet like he was actually on a boat that nobody else could see. He was frowning down at his phone and jabbing at it with one finger, which I had a feeling explained the number of typos in the texts he’d sent. “There he is,” I said, lowering my voice slightly as I nodded toward him.
“Oh jeez,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “This is looking like senior prom all over again.”
“What happened at senior prom?”
“Another time,” Jesse said, flashing me a quick smile.
“Right,” I said, focusing on the task at hand. “Of course.” We were halfway across the lobby, walking toward Mike, when he looked up from his phone and squinted at us.
“Jesse!” he said, too loudly, throwing his arms up and sending his phone flying. “Oops! Where—did you guys see—”
“I’ve got it,” I said quietly, bending down to pick up his phone, like if I talked more softly it would somehow balance out Mike talking too loud.
“Did you get my texts?” Mike asked. “Because I like just texted you. Look, I’ll show you the time . . . thingy. . . .” He looked at his empty hands, then patted his suit pockets, then shook his head. “I don’t know—I think I lost my phone?”
“Here,” I said, handing it to him, and Mike brightened.
“My phone,” he said, his volume getting loud enough that I glanced around. He frowned at me. “Why’d you take my phone, Charlie? Why are you always taking my stuff that’s mine away from me?”
“Um,” I said, trying to remember the last time I’d seen him like this. I got the sense that Mike didn’t party as much as our older siblings—neither of us did—but I knew he had his fun.
“Dude,” Jesse said, seeming to give up on trying to get Mike to sit down and just steadying him instead. “How much did you drink?”
“Not much,” Mike insisted, jabbing at his phone again. “Just the same as the same amount as what I drink usually. Same same.”
“Did you eat anything first?” Jesse asked, and Mike shook his head carefully, just once to each side. “Do you think maybe you should have?”
“Ohhhh,” Mike said, trying to snap his fingers but then giving up after a few tries and just pointing at Jesse. “You know, maybe that actually does make me some sense. Didn’t think about that. Didn’t do the math. Didn’t crunch the numbers.”
“I think we should get him out of here,” I said, and Jesse nodded.
“Great idea!” Mike said, again too loudly. “I’ll drive.” He patted his pockets again. “No, I won’t.”
“No,” I said firmly, hoping that Jesse was keeping his keys far away from my brother. “You won’t.”
“I’ll drive him back to my place,” Jesse said to me after a slight pause, not sounding too happy about this idea. “And then . . .” He sighed. “I should probably keep an eye on him tonight.”
I nodded, knowing exactly what this meant—that whatever we’d been starting in the game room was not going to continue tonight, because Mike had gotten himself sloppy drunk.
I tried to think of some way to get around this, some other plan that we could think of where this wouldn’t have to be the way the night went. But I couldn’t seem to see any other avenues, and finally I nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Jesse and I looked at each other, and it was like there was a whole silent conversation between us. I could see regret and disappointment on Jesse’s face, and I knew that’s what I was feeling too.
“What?” Mike asked in a loud whisper, looking between us. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said, feeling like the sooner we got him out of here, the better. “Let’s go.”
We managed to get Mike out the back entrance, which was closer to where Jesse had parked his car anyway. And it turned out to be a good thing, since Mike seemed to be getting drunker with every step he took toward Jesse’s hatchback. We maneuvered Mike into the passenger seat, where he went boneless, sprawling out across the seat and closing his eyes.
“Hey,” Jesse said. He glanced at the car, then took my hand and pulled me a few steps away, so that we were by the next car over, one of those SUVs that’s so long they really seem like at some point they should be properly called buses.
“Hey,” I said, looking back quickly at his car. I could see through to the passenger seat—Jesse had parked adjacent to one of the parking lot’s lights—and it looked like Mike’s eyes were still closed.
“Sorry about this,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “Not exactly the evening I’d imagined.”
I smiled at that. “Me neither.” He started to bend his head toward me, and although most of me was screaming to just kiss him back, I couldn’t help glancing over at the car once again. “What about Mike?”
Jesse just shook his head. “He’s three sheets to the wind,” he said with confidence. “He won’t see.”
I nodded, even though there was a piece of me that suddenly realized I wanted him to say that it didn’t matter—that he didn’t mind if Mike saw, or if everyone saw, because he liked me and didn’t care who knew it. He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss, but unlike the kisses in the game room, I could feel that we were under the clock—without nearly enough time to lose myself in him like before.
“Okay,” he said as he broke away and took a step back, regret etched on his face. “I should get back to your brother. Who I want to murder, by the way.”
“Right,” I said as reality—which was so much less fun than kissing Jesse—intruded once again.
“So.” He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me toward him. “I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow?”
I nodded, starting to smile. Jesse would be at the wedding tomorrow—and we’d have the whole reception, and hopefully this time we would dance together longer than just a few seconds. And then after the reception . . .
“It’s a plan,” I said. Jesse leaned in to kiss me once more, and when we broke apart, I glanced over at the car. It looked like Mike’s eyes were still closed and he was still leaning against the window, but for just a second, I could have sworn he had been looking over at us.
CHAPTER 15
Or, Never Bet Against Anderson General Life Insurance
* * *
BY THE TIME I GOT back to the house, it was after midnight. I’d returned from the parking lot to find that everyone else had left. I didn’t take it personally that nobody had realized I was still at the Inn—we’d all caravanned over in a line of cars, and everyone had probably assumed I’d gotten a ride back with somebody else.
I was about to use a ride-sharing app—Danny had linked my account to his when I started high school—but t
here was a Stanwich Taxi idling in front of the Inn, and after making sure the driver was taking rides, and not just a nap, I got in. As I told him my address, he visibly winced, and I realized it was the same driver who’d brought both J.J. and Uncle Stu to the house. So I could get why he wasn’t thrilled—between the two of them, he clearly thought we were a family full of grifters.
I’d expected the house to be quiet and dark when I got home. It was late, after all, and we had a big day ahead of us tomorrow. But as I headed up the driveway, I could see lights shining through the front windows.
I crossed around the side of the house to let myself in through the kitchen door, holding my heels by their straps, wincing as I eased the door open inch by inch, until I was sure that the alarm wasn’t going to sound and wake up the whole house.
I shut the door gently and then turned to see that the kitchen was packed—J.J. and Rodney were sitting at the island, both with bottles of beer, Linnie was sitting on the counter, and Danny and Brooke were at the kitchen table, Waffles on Brooke’s lap, getting his ears scratched. There was a box of pizza on the counter, with one lone slice and a bevy of crusts left. I just took in the sight for a moment, wishing I could somehow preserve this moment, freeze it in amber. Because this—minus Brooke and the dog—this was what I’d been picturing when I’d imagined this weekend.
All of us, together again. At last.
“Hey,” I said as I came inside and dropped my shoes by the kitchen stairs. “I thought everyone would have gone to bed already.”
“Ha,” J.J. said, waving this away as he took a sip from his bottle. “The night is young.”
“It’s really not,” Rodney said as he rolled up his sleeve to look at his watch.
“Why are you back?” I asked Linnie, crossing barefoot to the fridge. “I thought you were going out with the girls.”
“I did,” she said. “But then Jenny K. met someone, and we decided to clear out and give her some space. And then when we got back here, Priya realized she was exhausted. . . .”
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