For a moment, I am utterly content.
Then I remember the email I just read.
The back door thuds shut, followed by the pleasantcrackof a beer being opened. Alex lowers himself to the edge of the stoop beside me and hands me the can of beer he went inside for. He always offers me the first foamy, ice-cold sip.
“Well?” he says.
I take a long gulp of beer. And then I take another.
“Easy, tiger.” He plucks the beer gently from my hand.
“I read the email,” I tell him.
“I inferred,” he says, “from the chugging.” His eyes search mine. “Talk to me, Ted. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking this is not the kind of vacation I had in mind when I pictured finally taking a vacation.” I take the beer from him and this time have a measured, throat-wetting sip. Then I hand it back. “And I’m thinking our chickens have come home to roost.”
Alex peers at the beer, brow furrowed, then brings the can to his mouth and takes a drink. I watch it wet his lips, his Adam’s apple rolling in his throat as he swallows.
“Sometimes,” he says, “I think about how wild it is that they believed the story we cooked up.”
I take the beer from him and have another drink. “They didn’t just believe it. They took it andran.”
A montage of moments since that first night on his stoop flits through my mind. All the things we’ve done together, been through together, that Ethan and Jen inevitably witnessed. I can admit we’ve given them plenty of material—in person, on social media—but all of it was in the context of friendship. They just seem incapable of seeing it that way.
“Ididsay we were first loves,” he admits.
“And then we told them that was in thepast,” I remind him, “when we were teens.” I swig the beer again, then hand it back to Alex and pick up my phone, so I can reread the email.
Thea and Alex,
We would like to invite you to join us for a two-family beach vacation starting the last week of July into the first week of August.
“?‘Two-familyvacation,’?” I mutter. “We’ve been telling them we’re just friends for two years. Why don’t they believe us?”
“I think…” Alex clears his throat. “It’s because they don’t find us very convincing as ‘just friends.’?”
“What,” I say to him, “about our behavior is so unconvincing? We’ve never done anything that had a whiff of romance.”
Alex stares at me. I squint-grimace as I rethink that statement. The truth is, there have been slipups, moments between Alex and me in the past two years that very much had a whiff of romance. What mattered then—what matters now—is that they were unintentional, incidental moments that were bound to happen between two people going through a hard season of life together, being each other’s safe person, comfort person, steady person. Being each other’s best friend.
“At least,” I amend, “not in front of them.”
Alex frowns down at the beer in his hands. “Ted, we’ve done more with each other—foreach other—than a lot of romantic couples. No matter what we call it, we’re good to each other in a way they’d only expect people to be if… they loved each other.”
I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “We do love each other.” My throat’s turned tight and dry, but I push out the words because they’re the life raft I cling to, my insurance, my guarantee that we’re safe: “As friends.”
Alex is silent, still frowning down at the beer. I watch him take a sip, then a longer sip that turns into a chug.
“Now who’s the tiger that needs to go easy.” I reach for the beer, and Alex lets me take it, dropping his elbows to his knees, his hands clasped together.
I cup the cold can, tracing the condensation with my fingertips. Then I go back to rereading the email.
Of course, we know things haven’t always been easy between the four of us, and we recognize that might make this idea less than appealing, but all of us being there would mean so much to Mia. As we anticipate a significant development in her family life (which we would like to share withyou during this vacation), we think she would benefit from the comfort and consistency of time at her favorite place with her favorite people and dog (Argos is included in this invitation!!!). Ethan’s family has offered us the use of their beachfront property in Bethany, DE. We also recognize this is short notice, so even if you can’t come the full two weeks (though that would be wonderful, for Mia!!), you’re invited to come for however much time you can get off. Please consider and let me know if you’re willing to join and how long you are able to stay as soon as possible. I truly hope you can make it. Your presence would make Mia so happy.
Warmly,
Jen and Ethan
