“Truth or leave,” I announce, firmly and proudly.
His mouth is full of chicken. “Obviously, I choose the truth,” he mumbles.
“Who wanted the divorce?” I remember hearing he got married years ago, and then he made a comment about driving his daughter to her mother’s house in Connecticut during Dad’s funeral. I guess if he wants to play this game so badly, I’ll bring it on.
Brody swallows the last bite of the chicken, but it appears to have gone down like a lump of rocks. He chases the food with a sip of bourbon and releases a growl-filled sigh as he folds his arms behind his head. “There was cheating.”
I should have figured based on his past track record. Brody was the all-star quarterback in high school. He was a senior when I was a sophomore and every girl’s dream. But from what I heard, when you have a slew of girls to choose from, you treat them like a salad bar.
“Why would you do that to your wife?” I ask, shaking my head with shame.
“I figured you’d assume it was me,” he says, smirking. “I need that compliment, and I was fishing for it, but I’m a loyal man when I make a vow. It was our seventh wedding anniversary, and I showed up at work with a bouquet. She was missing from her office, but her assistant mentioned she had to make some copies.”
I already know where this story is going, and I’m squinting to prepare for the punchline. Brody stares through me as he blinks slowly. “I should have found it odd that her assistant said she was making photocopies since I think that’s what assistants are for, but who was I to judge, right? I shuffled down the hallway and walked into the copy room. She wasn’t in there.”
I know I have a look of shock because I assumed he was about to tell me he walked in on her behind getting photocopied.
“Oh,” I say. “So, what happened?”
“Her assistant was an idiot, and so was I. She left that morning to go on a business trip, and I just hadn’t had my coffee when I said goodbye, and when I remembered, I video-called her. Somehow she must have unintentionally answered my call because that’s when I learned how she was racking up so many hotel points on our credit card.” Brody’s nostrils flare. “Even if she wasn’t cheating on me with her boss, I saw a very unflattering angle of her having sex, and it kind of killed things for me, you know?”
Despite that being the worst story I’ve heard, I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for him. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to do that with their boss. Asking for a raise must be so awkward after.”
“Yeah,” he says. “So, there you have it. She wanted nothing to do with me or our daughter, so she moved to Connecticut to open up a new branch of the company with her new beau.”
I stand up from the table and pile up the dishes, preparing to take them to the sink. “I’m sorry you went through that,” I say.
“You’re trying to end the game, aren’t you?”
I make a move from the table over to the kitchen sink. “Just cleaning up.”
“Give me something, Journey. The night of the bake sale, you said you had been married at one point too, right?”
“I already gave you something,” I say, ignoring his question. “I gave you the extra chicken patty.
I’m scrubbing the first dish when I hear his chair scrape against the wooden floor. I close my eyes and wish away whatever question he asks next. I hear the footsteps, and I know he’s behind me when his hand pulls my elbow from the sink. “Look at me.”
He tugs a little more, forcing me to do as he asked. I might have complied a little. “You don’t smile.”
“I can’t,” I tell him.
“Why?”
“For too many reasons.”
“Did one of those reasons have anything to do with me?” Brody’s question is sincere, and though our banter has been anything but serious, I’m not sure I can lie about this.
“That night—the same night of the accident, it was because of me, not you.”
New Year’s Eve - Fifteen Years Ago
A stack of hot pink papers with details printed in black ink was the answer to every one of my friend’s pleas. I had space, I had privacy, and I had the nerve to host the New Year’s Eve party we had all been dreaming about.
I was handing out the last of the invites when I was yanked into the girl’s bathroom. “Journey, what are you doing? Dad is going to kill you.”
“It will be fine,” I told her. “I promise.”
“Journey, if anything happens to the shop, he’d never forgive us. This is a bad idea. You know this party is a bad idea.”
