“Sadie had a lot of fun,” I comment, sitting on the shallow part of the steps in the water.
“She’s been looking forward to this for a month,” she tells me. “And Everett has been planning every detail.”
We both look over at Everett, diligently picking up some of the trash leftover by the giddy teenage girls now fiddling with the karaoke machine after giving it a short break. “He’s taking that stepdad role seriously.”
She nods, a peacefully radiant smile on her face. “He’s been talking about getting her a car for Christmas.”
“A car?” I exclaim. “That’s a big deal.”
“I know,” she admits. She flicks at the water, the ripples distracting her as she muses over a topic she and Everett have seriously considered. “I told him to press the brakes on the extravagant gifts for now. Plus, I should talk to Leo about these things before jumping the gun on something like a car.”
I nod, proud of her consideration for her ex-husband’s involvement in navigating this new co-parenting role. Still, I can’t help but notice how much she glows. She’s been married barely a year. Yet, with how at ease she is in this big, beautiful house, it seems they’ve been at it their entire lives.
I remember when my life felt that hopeful. When I thought I had a future with someone I planned to spend the rest of my life with. The sudden pang I feel looking back at a fresh thirty-year-old Grace hits my chest like an arrow aimed right at my heart. All the nights I come home to my two-bedroom condo and a meal for one with hours of binge-watching reality television has an empty weight to it. While it’s hollow, it’s also heavy as it hangs over my head. At least Buster helps keep some of the loneliness at bay when I need someone to share a bowl of popcorn with.
Just then, I get a glimpse of Andrew wading through the pool. He’s got his brother James’s adorable four-year-old daughter, Sophia, in his arms. He’s lifting her above the water, her feet kicking the water into his face, and the two giggle in delight. The sight makes me smile too. My grin turns into a full laugh when she asks for “more uppies” with a whine he can’t seem to resist.
Andrew peers over at me at the sound of my animated laugh, and I realize I’m staring. He throws a little wink in my direction, and I feel like I’ve been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. It’s been happening all afternoon. I’d look up while perusing the snack table for a slice of watermelon or some chips to go along with my ranch dip only to find Andrew observing me. Like he’s guessing what I’m going to add to my plate. Or when we huddled around Sadie as the candles on her cake lit up her face. I’d meet Andrew’s eyes as we both smiled and clapped, his smile aimed at me instead of the birthday girl. I want to say I wish he’d stop, but do I? Without his perceptive eyes and knowing smile that seems to hide so much between its curved corners, I wouldn’t feel this heat simmering along my skin. A low, stirring fervor that has nothing to do with the weather.
I keep telling myself it’s because I hadn’t gotten laid in so long and that night with Andrew left behind a hunger pang that I don’t know how to get rid of, but this gnawing feeling keeps telling me there’s more. Even if I decide to have another raucous night—this time with someone inconsequential—it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t alleviate that pesky, maddening hunger. It would spur it. It’s something abouthimthat’s making it hard to move on.
Andrew’s laughter starts to tug at me. Like a hook looped over my ribcage, yanking me toward him in this provoking, insurgent way I have trouble saying no to. I need to get away from him. Far away from him.
“Hey,” I call to Teeny, who has her sunglass-shielded face pointed toward the sky. “I’m going to grab a drink. You want anything?”
She shakes her head. “I’m good.”
I turn to hurry out, already feeling a wave of relief from the added steps of space from Andrew, when Teeny calls for my attention.
“I have the grapefruit Perrier in the fridge inside,” she informs me. “I got some for you, and I forgot to add them to the coolers.”
“You know me so well,” I call over my shoulder.
I pad out of the water, a rush of water following my exit. My emerald-green bikini clings to my sopping skin, and I reach for a towel quickly as goose bumps start to scatter over my arms and legs. I let some of the chlorinated water drip onto the concrete, watching it immediately disappear in the stifling heat. I tiptoe inside, the bottoms of my feet burning against the scalding ground. As soon as I close the large sliding doors, I’m surrounded by cool air and silence. I walk to the fridge and grab a Perrier, cracking it open, enjoying the AC while sipping on my drink. It’s with my hip perched against one of the heavy wooden barstools pushed under the kitchen island that I notice a worn photo album sitting on her kitchen island. A few strips from the photo booth are tucked inside, adding to the collection already slipped inside the clear slots. I start flipping through it. I’m surprised and pleased to find the older pictures inside are all of Teeny when she was a kid. Family vacations, school recitals, birthday parties, summer trips to the beach. I see her at various stages of her childhood.
I come across a picture of her in high school, and when I see Everett in one of them, it throws me off for a second before I remember they first met when Teeny was a junior. It looks like it was taken on a driveway in front of her house with all of her brothers too. They’d met in high school before they grew apart due to circumstances that pulled Everett out of her life, and this glimpse of them feels like a window through a time machine that’s giving me a perfect snapshot of twenty years ago. This iswhat it must mean to find a soulmate. To have destiny bring them together again.
I turn the page to find another picture that brings a smile to my face. It’s Andrew. He has a toothy grin, a few gaps in his teeth that make his mouth look like an uneven bar chart, and his haircut looks awful. Like it was cut by someone who was holding a pair of scissors for the first time. He has a large LEGO set in his hands, and it looks freshly built as he presents his masterpiece proudly.
“Aren’t you a cutie,” I whisper through a giggle.
“Who’s a cutie?”
I feel my stomach jolt up to my throat. I turn around, my towel slipping down my body, to find Andrew hovering over my back. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes narrow, though a crooked smile curves his lips into an adorable angle. “Enjoying my party?” He omits the clear “duh” at the end of his question, making me sound silly for even asking.
“I mean, when did you come inside?” I demand, fumbling through my words. My eyes snag on his damp chest and wet hair dripping in silent splats around him. “I didn’t hear the door open.” My towel slips off completely, exposing my bikini-clad body, and I clumsily attempt to secure it around me again. All while Andrew watches, keeping a calm composure that I don’t know how to decipher.
“I came in through the side door,” he explains. “By the garage.”
“Okay. And why are you skulking around like some secret agent spy?” I turn away from him and reach for my drink. In a moment of complete embarrassment and frustration, I knock it over, spilling its contents a millimeter too close to the pictures I was just admiring. “Shit!”
Andrew beats me to the paper towel roll, ripping off a few sheets in haste and quickly mopping up my mess. Andrew shoves the photo album away from the wet zone, and I join him after reaching for the lone sponge sitting by the sink. The tense, awkward silence that was sitting between us is filled with purpose and resolve by hiding the evidence of my clumsiness and attempting to leave behind a spotless kitchen counter.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I wring the sponge out in the sink.
Andrew nods, transferring the slop of wet paper towels to the trash. “No problem.”
