I pour her a glass of scotch. “Here.” I set it on the table next to her chair. “Call your friend.”
I kiss Nan on the cheek and hoist my bag over my shoulder. I’m glad I offered to take photos. I need a camera in my hands tonight. I stride out the door with a confidence I don’t feel.
On the walk there, I focus on my breathing, on the crunch of pebbles beneath my feet, on the scent of pine that fills theevening air. But there’s a pit in my stomach I can’t get rid of. A house full of strangers. People who mean something to Charlie. And Charlie himself. We haven’t discussed how we’ll behave together. Am I supposed to pretend that I haven’t spent hours making out with him in the tree house?
I’m okay. It’s just a job.
I repeat it to myself, but it doesn’t feel true.
As I approach the house, I’m so nervous, I barely register my legs. I feel like a teenager in the worst way—self-conscious and terrified I’ll fade into the background. I pass cars parked along the side of the narrow road, and when I get to the Florek driveway, there are so many vehicles it’s like a parking lot.
The windows of the house are wide open, and music and laughter drifts out in greeting. Paper lanterns are strung everywhere. They crisscross over the path to the front door and drape the perimeter of the porch.
Percy answers before I knock.
“Oh my god, Alice!” She yanks me inside. “Hi! I almost didn’t recognize you. You look so different. In a good way, I mean. You lookhot.” Her eyes expand. “I’m sorry, that was weird. I’m a little overwhelmed with all this.” She waves her arm around. Music plays, but it’s the volume of the crowd that’s deafening. Even the entrance is shoulder to shoulder.
“The party?”
“Yeah. But it also just really hit me on me on the drive up here today.” She leans closer like she’s telling a secret. “I’m having a baby. I’m going to be amom.”
I laugh, feeling my anxiety ebb like it often does once I’m doing the thing instead of thinking about it. “That’s the rumor,” I say. “And thank you. You also look different. Also hot.”
Percy’s hair falls in tousled waves to her shoulders, parted in the center, with curtain bangs framing her lovely brown eyes.Her makeup is rosy and natural looking, but I bet it took ages to get right.
“I’m sweating like you wouldn’t believe,” she says.
“One of the perks of being pregnant is that we call itglowing.”
And she is. Her dress is a pretty periwinkle blue with a square neckline, a fitted bodice, and a skirt that’s draped over her waist, falling elegantly to the middle of her calves. She’s wearing sandals similar to my own, with a solid heel that won’t sink into grass, except they’re silver and even higher.
“Anything you can do to make sure I’m not excessivelyglowingin the photos would be much appreciated,” Percy says as I take my cameras out of my bag. I’ll shoot mostly digital, but I’ve also brought my Pentax and rolls of black and white, my preference for parties. You can strip away the noise of color and the busyness of the room and focus on the action and emotion. Hopefully there’ll be enough light to work with.
“Don’t worry about that,” I tell her. “Just have fun. Pretend like I’m not even here.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t think so. You and I haven’t spent nearly enough time together.” She walks toward the kitchen, gesturing for me to follow. “Come on. I think he’s been waiting for you. He keeps looking at the door.”
We squeeze our way through the kitchen to the deck. My eyes find Charlie immediately. He’s leaning against the railing, a bottle of beer in one hand, gesturing with the other, holding court with Sam in a large group. He’s clean-shaven, dressed in a crisp white shirt and a pair of black dress pants. His dimples are showing off. I fiddle with my Pentax because he looks incredible, and I need to find calm.
We’re a few feet away when he glances at me, and then does a double take. I raise my camera on instinct, before I can unpack the look he gives me.
Click.
Through my lens, I watch his mouth break into a dazzling smile, as bright as late July sun.
Click.
“I told you,” Percy says.
Sam wraps his arm around her when we reach them. He whispers something into her ear that makes her chortle. Charlie tugs on my ponytail by way of greeting.
“This is different. The glasses. The lipstick.”
“It’s my work uniform.”
“I’ve always loved a woman in uniform,” Charlie says, giving me a wink. I shake my head. The man can’t help himself.
He leans into my ear close enough that his lips brush my skin. “You look unbelievable. Like always.”
