"Which is where Daisy comes in," Vivi says, sandwiched between her brother and Duke. I look at her, nodding politely. Vivi's eyes are hard, aimed at me with speculation and suspicion.
"I'm very grateful to be able to continue my physical therapy while away from home." It sounds canned, a politician's response.
"I'll bet," Vivi says smoothly, shrewd eyes squinting with a mostly fake smile.
Duke brings us back to the topic of the military when he asks, "Which branch of the military were you in?"
"The Navy." I never brag about being a SEAL, even though I know it's pretty fuckin' cool.
"What was your job?"
"SEAL."
He nods and whistles. "Damn. I bet you have some stories."
Sure do. None of which I'll be sharing with this guy.
Vivi leans across Hugo, her forearm against his chest like she's pushing him out of the way. She asks Daisy a question Ican't hear, but as Daisy leans closer to answer her, it causes the outer edge of her leg to move the opposite direction, seeking balance. And that means it's pressed up against my leg. I'd really like some Plexiglass right about now to wedge between me and the woman beside me I'm trying desperately not to see, touch, or feel.
Duke follows up with another question about the SEALs, followed by several more. His thoughtfulness and knowledge takes me by surprise.
"I watch a lot of documentaries," he explains, when I ask him how he knows so much.
He comes off as earnest. Even, dare I say it,likable. I would really appreciate it if he could be a giant dick so I can continue assuming everything I used to think about him still holds true. People change, evolve, adapt, but that wasn't supposed to apply to Duke. He's supposed to remain that arrogant son of a bitch who called mecleaning boy.
Everyone finishes their drinks at roughly the same time, and since Hugo made it clear we had an early morning by brandishing the small bag holding his purchase from Lunker, they all decide to call it a night, too.
Daisy has been quiet since walking away from me at the bar. The conversation was mostly me answering Duke's questions, or Vivi peppering Hugo with questions about the podcaster who emailed him.
We walk out as a group, waving goodbye to the bartender who tells us to have a good night. Vivi teases Daisy about something in a friendly way while we wait for the wall to swing open, and Duke tells Hugo about a new boutique hotel concept his family's company is thinking of acquiring. I listen to the thrum of their voices, the baritone and soprano, the clink of glasses, the smell of sugar and alcohol. Is this what it would've been like if I'd stayed? Would I have grown up with this group offriends? Cheered for Hugo in-person as he won matches, instead of raising a fist in the air from afar? Watched Ambrose on the Olive Township High School football field, sat on the couch beside him at the draft party I'm sure they had?
Every time I think of this place, I think of Daisy first. How I left, thereby taking myself away from her. Ultimately, it was my mother who made the final decision, but I saw the wisdom in the offer, and encouraged her to agree. This is the first time I've stopped to consider what I took away from myself when I left.
It's an uncomfortable thought, one I need to spend more time on later, when I'm alone.
Hugo swings a friendly arm around my shoulders. "I like that you're the same height as me. There's no putting an arm around Ambrose's shoulder. The guy is a giant."
"Agentlegiant," Vivi adds.
The wall swings open, and we step through. Lunker is quiet and mostly dark, except for a light near the back where an employee sits on his phone.
"King's Ransom gives Lunker ten percent of its Friday and Saturday night earnings to stay open late and let people through," Duke says, like he's reading the question in my mind.
Daisy walks in front of me, hair cascading over her back. Duke reaches over her head, palm flattening against the exit door and pushing it open for her. Jealousy has me grating my teeth. I want to do that for her. I want to be the gallant, chivalrous man who gets her doors, washes her car, places blankets over her when she falls asleep on the couch.
The group pauses outside the store to say goodbye. Duke shakes hands with me first, then Hugo. Vivi wraps Daisy in a hug, her dark hair in extreme contrast with Daisy's burnished tresses. Daisy peeks at me over Vivi's shoulder, and my heart leaps of its own volition. She looks away quickly, but that brief glance has me floating. In an effort not to give away mythoughts, I look away from Daisy and find my gaze aimed at Duke. A perplexed expression has his eyes squinting as he takes me in. He lays a hand on Daisy's back, a territorial move if there ever was one. Has he picked up on my thoughts? Have I been that transparent?
"See you at your next appointment, Peter," Daisy says, flicking a final glance my way. I dip my chin, and she floats away with Duke.
I force my gaze to focus on anything but the golden couple walking down the street. We reach Hugo's car, and I climb into the vehicle that is so low to the ground I feel like I'm crouching. "This car is fit for toddlers," I complain into the plush leather and rarified air.
"Quit bitching," is Hugo's response. He's still standing outside the car, but I can't tell what he's doing. Looking at his phone, I think.
Down the street, Vivi splits off from Duke and Daisy.
Bile rises in my throat. Just because Duke might not be the worst person ever like I thought, doesn't mean I can stomach the sight of him kissing Daisy goodnight. But, like every rubbernecker passing a car accident, I look anyway.
He walks her to her car. Pauses at the trunk. She walks on to the driver's side, never breaking her stride. She tosses him a smile. It's genuine. She looks happy. Her wave is perfectly warm.
