Galoshes yelled a lot of instructions at this point, and then some tips for Doc Laurry, who was carting Baptiste from the floor after an unfortunate interaction with Rog’s sharp elbow.
“And is doing something for you such a crime?” I said, when everyone was back to dancing again.
“It literally is, actually, when it’s fraud.”
We parted at that, pairing up with different people, under Galoshes’s instruction. I let Aspen’s hand go reluctantly, then took Red’s, and did a double take, frowning. She was crying again.
I asked her if she was all right as we linked arms, trying to avoid Rog’s elbows.
“Happy tears,” she said. “I talked to Toby.”
It suddenly felt very appropriate to be skipping. I’ve been rooting for that kid from the start. The nice boys never win, especially when they’ve made bad hairstyling decisions, but Toby deserved to get the girl.
“I’m really glad,” I told her. “Well done, Red.”
“Tell Aspen thank you,” Red said with a tearful smile, as we disentangled. “She’ll know what for.”
“Red says thank you,” I told Aspen, as our hands connected again. “She talked to Toby.”
“Oh!” Aspen’s face lit up. “That is the best news! And Rog says he wants to know if you’re actually sober or if that was ‘part of the act.’ ”
“Rog is having the hardest time getting his head around all this, isn’t he?”
“I’m still not convinced he understands who Berty is.”
Aspen was out of breath now. I wondered fleetingly if she should be jumping around this much when pregnant, and then remembered that she’s a midwife, so she probably knew what she was doing. By this point I was longing to talk to her about thepregnancy—I mean, I’ve been longing to for days—but if she wasn’t ready to discuss it, Ihadto wait. This was her story to share.
“Are you jealous of Berty?” she asked.
The question surprised me. I thought for a moment.AmI? I mean, kind of, yeah.
“For having a whole year of you? Absolutely,” I told her.
She dug her teeth into her bottom lip to try to keep the smile from growing, and I knew I was right to feel hopeful.
“So you’re not…you know…still deeply in love with Charlie and pretending you’re over it? For instance?” she asked.
“Am I Berty Jones, you mean?”
She blushed, but didn’t correct me.
“No. I’m not, I promise, Aspen. Charlie and I are just good friends—we never made sense as a couple. After my friend Fearne died, the two of us just kind of…looked after each other. I’m not sure how healthy it was—we weren’t together, but we weren’t apart, either. But it got us through.”
“I’m so sorry about your friend. I wish you’d…”
“Told you?”
“Well. Yeah. But I get it—if anyone does, I do. You figured it would help, right? Starting over and leaving all the pain behind…”
We ducked under an archway of arms.
“There she goes,” I heard someone say. “That’s the one who lied to everyone.”
I glanced across at Aspen. Her jaw had tightened, and I could see she was fighting to hold back tears. It hadn’t escaped me that everyone was being a lot harder on Aspen than they were on me—just like the committee had been when we arrived.
“I’m sorry they’re—” I started saying, but she had begun to speak.
“What was it you said about overconfidence?”
