“Hey, you two, need any help?”
Grady turned around, relief written in his eyes. I knew I was being a bit of a bastard and decided to tone down the pity party. “Sure, that’d be great. Want to make the salad?”
“I’m on it.” At the large island, I assembled the vegetables and chopped and sliced, putting everything into a big wooden bowl. I mixed up a salad dressing and poured it over the leaves. As I worked, I watched Bailey, who’d been enlisted to make twice-baked potatoes. He broke up some bacon, grabbed some grated cheese, and piled them on top of the split potatoes. He slid them in the oven, chattering with Lauren as if he’d known her for years. Carlos had possessed that same enviable quality of making friends quick and easy. I listened intently.
“I used to eat these all the time as a kid. When my father would work a night tour and I’d be too tired to make something, I’d microwave a potato and stuff it with cheese and bacon. My three favorite food groups—bacon, carbs, and cheese. Filled me up, and it was nice and cheap.”
“Where was your mother?” I blurted out, regretting it immediately, seeing him pale. He bowed his head.
“She didn’t live with us.” He walked off, and I shrugged when Grady met my eyes and raised his brows.
Past the wide kitchen island, I could see Bailey sitting with Weston and Brenner. I understood I’d touched a nerve, and though I wanted to know more, it would have to wait until later. No way was I venturing into that threesome.
For the rest of the evening, Bailey avoided me. During dinner, he sat with Weston and Brenner and talked about their law-school days, effectively shutting me out. Afterward, he, Faith, and Della decided to play a game of charades, and that was where I drew the line. I took another glass of wine, and as the rain had lessened, walked out onto the deck, sitting under the covered part, staring into the trees.
The door slammed, and I braced myself. Grady sat next to me.
“You okay?”
I lifted a shoulder and sipped my wine. “I needed a break.”
“Yeah. I get it. It’s hard being ‘on’ in a group.” He raised the bottle he held in his hand. “I brought reinforcements.”
“Good man.” He topped me off, and we clinked glasses. “I’m really happy for you. You’ve got it all.”
“It wasn’t easy. I made a lot of mistakes along the way.”
I snorted. “Yeah, but you managed to turn them into wins.”
“And you think you haven’t? You know you’re wrong.”
“Yeah? I’m in my midthirties, and the only reason I have what I do is because Carlos left it to me. Name one thing I accomplished on my own.”
“Staying alive.”
The reality of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Grady set his glass on the railing. “Listen. You make the life you choose to live. But you also have to open your eyes and see what’s in front of you. Not let opportunities slip by.” He rose to his feet. “How about coming back inside?”
Could he be any more obvious? “In a minute.” My smile was faint. “I promise.”
“Okay.” He rested a hand on my head. “I love you, Keston. I’m not pressuring you to get into another relationship. I just want you to see that there are still chances for you to be happy.”
I didn’t answer because I couldn’t. My throat closed up, and my eyes burned with tears. All I could do was nod, but that proved enough for Grady to leave me alone. It took several minutes and another glass of wine to get the damn emotions under control and return to the party.
I took a seat where I could observe the others. Faith and Della were sharing toasted marshmallows, and Weston and Brenner were still busy talking to Bailey, who sat with shoulders slumped and his head hung low.
Damn, I hadn’t realized I would hit a nerve by mentioning his mother. He must’ve had a bad relationship with her, but at least he knew who his parents were. Despite Grady’s words, I’d had enough of the warm and fuzzy atmosphere and decided to go to bed. Hopefully I’d fall asleep fast, and when I woke up, it would be Sunday and I could leave for my real life.
I prepared for my exit and half rose from my chair, but Bailey’s phone rang, and from his expression, it wasn’t good news. He crossed the room for privacy, and while everyone else continued their conversations, I zeroed in on him. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but his words came rapidly and he grew flushed. When he ended the call, he didn’t bother to say anything, instead running upstairs. I gave him a minute, then followed.
The door to our room was open, and I stopped outside the threshold, watching him. Unlike the neat piles he’d unpacked, Bailey threw his clothes randomly in his overnight bag and tossed his travel kit on top.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he answered as he continued to push everything inside.
“Oh yeah, sure. Now try the truth.”
