“On that note, buy me a drink,” she orders. “A strong one.”
His face is scarlet now and he heads to the bar, speechless.
—
JILL UNTANGLES HERSELFfrom the cowboy, leaving him stranded on the dance floor, and strides over to our table. She yanks her yellow purse off the floor.
“I’m going outside,” she says through clenched teeth. “I’ll text Alex to pick me up.” She clomps away. Margot watches her, cocking an eyebrow.
“What the hell?” I ask Tina.
“She hates it when Margot pulls this shit.”
“What shit?”
“Messing with underage boys,” Tina says. She licks her lips, drains the rest of her beer.
I nod as if she’s just told me about the weather, as if any of this is normal.
Tina turns to face me, lowers her voice. “Okay, so last fall we were all out at Margot’s land one Friday night for the Hunting Wives. And Margot and Jill had this idea that it might be fun to have a bonfire and invite the whole football team out.”
I finish the remains of my lukewarm beer, then push the bottle away from me.
“Jill’s son Brad is the quarterback,” Tina continues, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips; she’s clearly the type who loves to gossip. “Well, we were having a great time; the boys brought a keg out; it was all pretty innocent. Butthen Margot and Brad headed for the house, alone, to grab a bottle of whiskey. And when they came back, Margot’s shirt was inside out.” Tina’s eyes flash conspiratorially. She twists her palms upward, as if in a shrug.
“I have no idea what happened between them, but damn,” she says. “Jill was livid but didn’t even say anything that night. She waited until we were all out to dinner the next week, with our husbands, and out of nowhere, she tossed a glass of wine in Margot’s face.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it, but a shredded pile of napkins is building in front of me like a snowdrift; my hands have been tearing and twisting the paper into small wads.
“Margot wouldn’t speak to her for three months. Jill tried to apologize but Margot is ruthless. And, of course, Margot should’ve been the one apologizing but she’d never admit anything had happened. She basically gaslighted Jill into thinking she was the one who’d done something wrong.” Tina tilts her head back, snickers. “These women. They’re my friends but they’re also nuts. Jill doesn’t talk about it, but I don’t think she’s ever forgiven Margot.”
My head is fuzzy with cheap beer and this sordid gossip. I look up at Margot; Blond Boy has her pinned to the side of the pool table. Her legs are parted, and he’s pressed against her, saying something urgently in her ear. Her croaky laugh pierces the air again, and every head in Rusty’s is twisted in their direction, as if by force.
—
I RISE ANDwalk over to her.
“This has been so much fun but I gotta bolt,” I say. “My Jack’s an early riser.”
Margot peels Blond Boy off her. “What? You’re leaving already?” she asks, her voice climbing in pitch. “We’re just getting started!”
She’s pouting almost, and I realize that I’m part of her treasured audience. I’m about to add another apology when she hisses, “Whatever. Suit yourself.” Darkness flickers across her eyes, then she turns from me and folds herself back into Blond Boy’s arms. A curtain has fallen between us; she won’t even meet my eyes and it’s as though I don’t exist anymore.
16
Saturday, March 24, 2018
MY KNEES AREdamp from kneeling in the garden. I’m bent over, yanking clumps of grass out of the ground like fistfuls of hair, when my cell dings. Leaping up, I head over to the bench, swipe the screen. I was hoping it was Margot, texting me back, but it’s only a notification to pay our wireless bill. My heart sinks and I set the phone back down on the bench, a little harder than I should; I’m irrationally mad at it for not coughing up a reply from Margot.
—
THIS MORNING, Ihad texted the group.
Fun times last night, ladies!
But only Tina responded, with the heart emoji.
—
