Donovan grinned, hiding the disappointment he felt at Echo’s appraisal of the situation.
The DJ tapped the microphone, which seemed superfluous considering the size of the gathering. He could’ve held his hands to his mouth and yelled, and everyone would’ve heard him. “If I can get everyone’s attention, it’s time to cut the cake and then we’ll put on some music and start dancing.”
Echo popped up and yelled, “Woot! Cake!” She grabbed Lucius’s hand and dragged him over to the table where the three-tier marvel stood. They held the knife together, posing for a few photos before drawing it through the layers and feeding pieces to each other, not being careful at all. Everyone laughed and clapped, as did Donovan, although part of his enthusiasm was for the fact that the cake was chocolate. As one of the caterers stepped in and began slicing for guests, the DJ started the music.
Only a few notes of the song—Sparksby Coldplay, and Donovan froze.
This was one of his favorite songs from one of his favorite bands in recent history. Echo and Lucius stepped on to the dance floor, wrapped their arms around each other and got lost in a gaze that looked exactly like true love. And Donovan was stuck between the past and the present, jettisoned back to the first time he’d heard this album. His most immediate reaction beyond falling head over heels for the music, was an intense desire to share it with one person—Lela. He was married to Tess at the time, who only liked the poppiest of mainstream music. Still, he’d tried to bond with her over it, and she’d declared it “depressing”. It left him longing for his friend Lela, who understood what it was like to have a visceral connection to music. It had made their friendship special. He lost that when they parted ways.
Hehadto ask her to dance to this song. It was a compulsion gripping him with both hands. He turned, only to get stuck again. Austin was leading Lela out on to the floor. Donovan’s happy heart deflated like a day-old balloon. What was he was left with? Some brilliant lyrics, a winding bass line, a sparse piano arrangement and Chris Martin’s haunting falsetto. Why was he being so sappy about Lela? Was it just because of the day?
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see his mom. “Care to take your old mother out for a spin? Your brother is already out there.”
“You don’t want to dance with Stuart?”
She gestured across the patio with a backward toss of her head. “He’s busy eating cake.”
Indeed, Stuart was at their table, squarely focused on dessert.
“I’d love to.” Donovan took his mother’s hand, noticing how small it felt in his, and walked her on to the dance floor. Aside from the year in middle school when she’d gotten a wild hair and made him participate in cotillion classes, the culmination of which was a mother-son and father-daughter dance, he’d never cut a rug with his mom. His wedding with Genevieve had been small and not particularly celebratory, his second was on some Caribbean island his mom had refused to travel to, and the third had been hastily arranged in Vegas. Swaying back and forth with her was a nice moment to share, especially when the DJ segued toCrazy Loveby Van Morrison, a song he adored but was far less torn up about.
“Mom, Stuart really loves you. We had a whole chat about it during the hike. He told Austin and I that he wants to marry you. Why are you giving him such a hard time about it?”
“I’m seventy-four years old. Why do I want to get married? You know what they say. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
Donovan chuckled, even though he was inwardly cringing. He didn’t want to think about his mother and Stuart and sex. “I’m pretty sure that was an excuse idiotic bachelors used in the 1950s. Nobody says that anymore.”
“I say it. Then again, I’m old school.” She turned her attention across the patio to Stuart, who was still eating cake. “What if it doesn’t work out? Then I have to pay some lawyer to get me out of it. And it’ll just make it that much harder to split the estate when I die.”
“Is everything okay, Mom? Because it seems like you’ve lost some weight. When was the last time you went to the doctor?”
A very plain frown crossed her face. “Of course I’ve lost weight. Your ex-wife has been all over me about the wedding. It’s been stressful.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I finally learned to give in and do everything she said to do.”
“Speaking from experience, that’s the only way to do it.”
“As for the doctor, I go every year. Believe me, they hound you like crazy until you come in. They want their copay.”
“And everything is okay?” He didn’t want to press the subject too hard, but he had to know.
“I have the heart of a forty-year-old. I’ll probably outlive you and your brother.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Out of the corner of his eye, Donovan spotted Stuart as he beelined toward them. “Mom. I think Stuart wants to dance with you.”
“I suppose he’s entitled.” She took a single step back. “This was nice, darling. It’s always good to have you here.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s good to be here.” Despite his trepidation about a weekend on the estate, he genuinely felt that way. Again, he felt like he was turning into a marshmallow on the inside. Thank goodness he only had one child to marry off. He didn’t think he could take this a second time.
Stuart was standing, waiting.
“She’s all yours.” Donovan started to make his exit, but then he saw Lela and Austin still dancing. The song was changing toShe’s Goneby Hall & Oates. This was his chance. “May I cut in?”
Austin looked annoyed, but he gave up easy enough. “Fine. See you later, Lela.” He let go of her, then sauntered away.
“Bye, Austin…” she said, but he was already gone. “Is this part of your sibling rivalry?”
