The rest of them sit there for a moment, looking at each other as if trying to feel out whether they should know who this is, if he was one of my flings they can’t keep track of.
“Chris’s brother,” I elaborate. “He died a few years ago, but the obituary was abysmal. An insult to his memory, really. I wish I’d known him so I could’ve written a better one.”
Tara and Hal exchange a look that reeks of misplaced suspicion. “Does he still have that girlfriend?” Hal asks.
“Of course Luke doesn’t have a girlfriend,” I snap. “He’s six feet under.”
“Not Luke, obviously,” Hal says. “Chris.”
I tell her that yes, Chris and Olivia are still together, but I have a theory about that. “Olivia looks exactly like the woman Luke was engaged to before he died,” I tell them. “So it’s pretty clear that Chris isn’t actually in love with Olivia. He’s just trying to live out his brother’s dream life and call it his own. It’sprobably why he’s still working that boring accountant job, because he always looked up to his brother and followed in his footsteps. And now that he doesn’t have anyone to follow, he’s following a ghost.”
Hal and Tara appear skeptical and concerned, but Astrid is nodding along.
“I’ve seen that happen before,” Astrid says, and her accent draws me in more than I want it to, the way it carves and contours every word. “After my father died, my mother couldn’t make a single decision without asking if it was what my father would’ve done. It was sad to watch, because in a lot of ways she lost her own life, too, when we lost my father. That was a long time ago now. But still, it sometimes feels like she’s trying to live two people’s lives at once.”
I feel a deep fondness for Astrid in that moment. Part of me wants to initiate her into the Redstockings and fill Jenni’s place. But the dynamic with her dating Hal feels like it would disrupt the platonic values of the group. Still, I’m actually glad she’s here and hope she sticks around for a while.
“Did you ever tell your mom you felt like that?” Hal asks, leaning her head on Astrid’s shoulder.
“Not really,” Astrid says. “I tried to go along with everything she wanted so I wouldn’t make her life harder. Probably why I ultimately rebelled and moved to America.” Her tilted front teeth jut out, the kind of smile that’s prettier because it’s not perfect. “And fell in love with a woman,” she adds.
Hal does a double take. We all do.
“You love me?” Hal balks.
“Of course I do, Hally,” Astrid trills, looking into Hal’s eyes like she’s translating a book from Norwegian to English and back again. “And you love me too.”
Hal looks stunned and I think she’s going to dispute it. But after a moment, her edges fold inward like origami.
“Guess I do,” she admits, with the movements of a child who’s been caught stealing candy, then told she can keep it.
Tara and I look at each other. We’ve never seen Hal in love before, and my own fear is reflected back on Tara’s face like flares of a forest inferno we thought was only a campfire. Hal is too nonconformist to go the way of Jenni. It’s not marriage we’re worried about, but Astrid has still become a threat. Though chances are that once whatever start-up they’re working on goes bust, their relationship will follow suit. I’m not rooting for it, but I won’t be heartbroken when it happens, that’s all.
“Just be careful,” I say to Hal and Astrid, like I’m the subject matter expert here. “Love is the worst kind of vine. Sometimes it’s hard to realize you’re getting choked until it’s too late.”
Hal and Astrid divvy up a giggle that makes me feel like I’m the outsider here, not Astrid. “And sometimes it’s hard to realize when you’re getting un-choked too,” Hal says.
I don’t know what she means and I don’t really want to. I just want things to go back to how they were. “Who wants to go out tonight?” I ask. “House of Yes?”
“I would, but I’ve got a shift at the bar,” Tara says.
Hal’s out too. “We’ve got to get back to our business plan.”
“Next time, though,” Astrid chimes in. “Definitely next time.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do tonight?” I sulk, not bothering to keep the thought to myself.
“You could come hang out at Lone Wolf while I work,” Tara suggests. “Entertain the crowd with your jukebox dancing.”
“I’m tired of that,” I brood. “It’s the same people every night. I need variety.”
“Why don’t you go see Chris?” Hal says. “Ask him more about Luke.”
It appeals more than it should. “Bad idea,” I decline. “He doesn’t want to talk about Luke.”
“Sometimes the things we want don’t match up with the things we need,” Hal says in her guru voice.
“But sometimes they do match up,” Astrid whispers to Hal, inducing my gag reflex once more.
