“Look at you and your new vocabulary!” Fenn marveled. “Today it’splease, tomorrow it might bethank you! The Rafe I know and tolerate is a bitter little ball of righteous indignation who wouldn’t be caught dead telling his dad ‘your wish, my command.’ So, tell me honestly as your favorite cousin: have you undergone a personality transplant, or did you finally get laid?”
Neither. I hadn’t been laid in… Jesus wept. A really fucking long time.
And I was absolutely not sharing that information with Fenn or anyone.
“I’ve adopted a new attitude toward life, Reardon,” I lied. “It’s called wisdom and maturity. You might try it.”
“Meh. Sounds lame.”
I smiled smugly. “Also,” I said, moving my lips as little as possible, “I planned for twenty trucks and told Dad ten, so he has two more trucks before I actually have to rethink my plan.”
“Delightful,” Toby breathed.
“Smart,” Mason said softly.
I nodded, accepting both compliments. “Now hush,allof you, so I can listen.”
But instead of taking my own advice, I stared out at the sliver of water I could see through the window and thought about what Fenn had said.
I wasnotbitter. I wasn’t. Bitter people were people who weren’t reconciled to their lives, and I was. I accepted the way things were.
I accepted that my dad was impulsive, and charming, overly enthusiastic about all the wrong things.
I accepted that my marriage to Aimee Rollins had been a mistake, even if I’d done it to help her out and my intentions had been good.
And I accepted thatcertain people, people I’d once considered a fixture in my life, had decided to remove themselves entirely from my orbit entirely once their career finally started taking off… even though I didn’t understandwhyany better than I had back when it happened.
“Jay! Jesus, it’s good to hear your voice! You’re fucking hard to get hold of these days! Where have you—?”
“Hey, um. Sorry to interrupt, but now’s not a great time. I’ve got rehearsals. Second tour’s starting up in a couple months, and—”
“Wait, a second tour? Wow. Didn’t you just finish your first tour? And when were you gonna share this info with your best friend?”
“Well…”
“I got why you couldn’t make it to the wedding, Jay, but I thought you were gonna try to come out to the Key over the summer—”
“Oh, right. I guess I did sorta spitball that for a minute early last spring, didn’t I? But it’s not gonna work out. Way too busy. Gotta strike while the iron is hot, Debbie says! Debbie’s my—”
“I know who Debbie is.”
“Ah. Right. Well. Um. First single’s out, and the rest of the album is dropping soon and… you know how it goes.”
“I don’t, actually… But maybe you can make it out for a visit next month, if it’s before the second tour starts? I was thinking of having a birthday party for Aimee, and you always said you wanted to see the island in the fall, remember? It’d really mean a lot to her and to—”
“No! Nope. I… I can’t. Sorry. I’ll send her something, though, for sure. Look, I—”
“What about Thanksgiving? Or Christmas? Or basically anytime, ever?”
A sigh. “I’ve got dates scheduled through the end of the year. And my producer’s throwing a Thanksgiving thingin the cityI kinda have to attend. I mean, I’ll try to get down there, but I just hate to promise and then cancel. I’ll let you know. I’ll get one of Debbie’s people to send you a copy of my schedule when it’s final.”
“You’ll have Debbie’speoplelet me know? Are you fucking serious?”
“What do you want from me, Rafael?” Impatient now.
“Did I do something to piss you off? You don’t call. You don’t text. You don’t come out here. Aimee says you don’t communicate with her either. And I just don’t get it. I love you. You’re my best friend. My… my… brother-in-law—”
“Look, Rafe, I have to go. I…” A hesitation. “Give my love to Aimee, okay? I’ll call when I can.”
