JP smiles out of the corner of his mouth as he helps distribute teacups. Everyone fills their coffee or water glasses and I take my seat next to Emily on one of the cream-colored tufted sofas.
“Maybe one day you’ll find someone as nice as he is,” my mother adds, and JP chokes on a laugh as he sits on the second sofa across from me, and Audrey places a hand on his arm.
I would laugh, too, if it didn’t make my chest hurt.
“Truly, he saved the day with the pink champagne.” Mom places a delicate hand to her chest. “Right after Julia messed up the cake—green icing everywhere! It was quite the Julia-ism. Always a mix-up. Thank God for your soon-to-be hubby.” Mom throws her head back and roars with a cackle that puts the Wicked Witch to shame.
Audrey forces a smile, but I can see her mind slowly piecing the story of JP and me together. She’s weaving the small details she knows of us, and something isn’t sitting right with her, I can tell. I want to tell her, I agree. It isn’t sitting right with me either. It all feels strange, having a secret like this. I feel slimy and gross and embarrassed.
Logic tells me I’m an adult and JP and I had a fling. A one-night stand we didn’t want to wake up from until we had to. I’m also fully aware we charmed each other and said all the right, sweet things when we parted. We texted for months like we were the best of friends. I met his entire family. His father said he thought we’d get married.
Then he flew back to Greece and it faded to black. No hard feelings. No one’s heart was breaking. Strangers that becamelovers. Lovers that became friends. Friends that became lovers then turned back into strangers again.
And the only two people that know about it in this room are him and me. That is what feels absurdly wrong. I wonder who texted who last, and as the thought dances through my mind, my phone begins to burn a hole in my pocket.
I’ll check the thread later.
“Yes, I’m quite inept at times,” I respond to my mother.
“Like her grandma,” Mom remarks.
I stare at her then turn to Audrey. She’s studying me, and I force a smile.
Pity flashes over Audrey’s face and Austin rubs Emily’s shoulders. I can see Emily is growing embarrassed. JP is smirking as he sips his coffee.
The perfect timing of Alyson dumping her cereal from her cup onto the white carpet, then Anjali crying, breaks the awkward tension.
I’m thankful for the disruption until my mother opens her mouth again, “Oh, she needs her Granny. Give her to me.” She stands, arms outstretched.
I can feel JP’s gaze on me, and barbed wire twists in my gut.
“Actually I think I just need to feed her. Austin, can you bring the diaper bag upstairs for me?” Emily says, scooping her baby in her arms.
Austin jumps up, excited to be given a task that removes him from this tension-filled room. They disappear up the curved staircase, and I’m left with my mother, my lover from a year and a half ago, and his extremely uncomfortable-looking fiancée.
“Audrey, what is it you do for a living?” Mom asks.
“I’m a realtor,” she answers with her shoulders back, her cucumber water resting on her knee.
“Oh wow! That’s quite unpredictable,” Mom says, and I roll my eyes internally.
Audrey leans in, unfazed. “It is! And there’s so much that goes into it besides selling houses. It’s like running a business. Marketing. Paperwork. Paying for your own health insurance.”
Mom gasps so dramatically I laugh a little and meet eyes with JP.
“That’s expensive! You must be doing well, I presume?”
I ignore the blatant rudeness coming off the lips of someone pretentious enough to use the wordpresumein regular conversation.
“I do well.” Audrey smiles. “But I’m definitely marrying this guy for his insurance.”
The joke lands and Mom laughs. I force a smile and avoid eye contact with JP.
“Speaking of nuptials. Have you found a venue for the wedding?” Mom is edging closer to the end of her seat. I wonder if she’s about to crawl into Audrey’s lap.
Audrey brightens and shifts her attention to her. “Not yet, but I want to do it big. All the traditions. The whole nine yards.”
“Pomp and circumstance?” Mom asks.
