Was she going to make another phone call to her “love”?
Turning to Millie, Roni added, “Millie, I leave him in your capable hands. Make sure you take good care of him for me!” Blowing an airy kiss to Avery, she sashayed toward the dance floor, gliding across the lawn like a pink snake. She passed near Claire. Claire hesitated a moment and then turned to follow her. Reaching out, she grabbed Roni’s shoulder and whirled her around. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their body language spoke volumes. Claire’s back was to me, but from her stiff posture and jerky movements, it was clear she was angry. Roni, however, was not. She listened to Claire with a mocking smile and laughed at something Claire said. Claire raised her hand and I had a sudden thought that she meant to strike Roni. A couple danced between us, obscuring my line of vision. When they moved out of the way, Claire and Roni were gone.
Next to me, I noticed Avery and Millie staring out at the spot where the two women had been. Avery’s face was pained; Millie’s was etched with disgust. Wondering if it could have been Millie’s footsteps I’d heard earlier today in the hallway, I snuck a quick look at her shoes: white with rubber soles. I doubted they had made the loud footsteps.
Giving me little more than a mechanical good night, Avery signaled to Millie that he was ready to leave. I sat at the empty table for another five minutes before pushing my chair back and going in search of Peter. Heading toward the closest drink tent, I craned my neck over the thick crowd. I soon found him. He was standing away from the tent, partially hidden by the loping branches of a large magnolia tree. Chloe stood next to him. To steal a quote from Groucho Marx, if she were standing any closer, she’d be behind him. Peter said something and Chloe let out a peal of laughter. Gently placing a slender hand on his chest, she leaned in to whisper something in his ear and he laughed in response.
My mind reeled. The summer I was twelve, my parents enrolled me in a soccer camp, ostensibly because studies had shown that girls who participated in sports did better in school. The real reason, however, was I was overweight due to the recent acquisition of an Easy-Bake Oven, which I liberally used to sooth myself about two other recent acquisitions: thick glasses and a mouthful of braces. During one of the camp’s torture sessions, also known as scrimmages, I fell and was kicked in the stomach. Painful as a pair of cleats smashing into your gut can be, it was nothing to how I felt seeing Chloe lean in toward Peter, her hand on his broad chest.
Suddenly aware that I was gawking like a wounded schoolgirl, I quickly turned and headed back for the table before they saw me. I know I should have calmly joined Peter and Chloe, but I simply couldn’t. There was no way I could trust my emotions. I had a long, painful history with cheating boyfriends. The last guy I’d dated had been seeing at least two other women behind my back. I had been made a fool of too many times before to be calm now.
Thankfully, Harry grabbed me just then for a dance, saving me from having to sit at the table alone and brood. But as much as I enjoyed both Harry’s conversation and dancing, it did not escape my notice that we had danced three songs before Peter finally reappeared.
The last guest left just before one A.M. Exhausted and yet radiant, Bridget and Colin disappeared soon after to their room downtown at the Jefferson Hotel. Colin’s parents left a few minutes later. They were staying at the same hotel but wanted to give Colin and Bridget their privacy.
Inside the house, I sank into one of the couches in the living room and pried my shoes off my swollen feet. Claire and David were also in the room. From the looks of it, Claire was trying—without much success—to get David to go to bed. She shot me a distracted smile before turning her attention back to David.
Peter came in and sat down next to me. “Has something happened? You seem upset,” he said in a low voice.
I turned to face him, firmly reminding myself of my resolve to remain composed. “Upset? Me? What a funny question. Why should I be upset? Is there any reason I should be upset?” I abruptly snapped my mouth closed. I can be really smooth sometimes.
He opened his mouth, looked at me closely, and then shut it. Glancing over at Claire and David, he said, “I don’t know. You just seem upset.”
I didn’t want to talk anymore. I wanted to crawl into bed and try to block out what I’d seen. “I’m just tired, I guess,” I said, making an excuse for disappearing upstairs. “It’s been a long day. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble sleeping tonight,” I added with a forced yawn.
“Really?” said Peter. “I’m having the opposite problem. I’m completely wired. I must have had too much coffee.”
Harry stumbled into the room. From the bottle of beer clutched in his hand, it was clear why his balance was off. From the mud stains on his pants, it was also clear that this wasn’t his first stumble of the night. “Whoopsie,” he said with a sheepish grin. Spying us on the couch, he flopped down next to Peter. “That was a fun party,” he said. At least, that’s what I think he said. It might have been, “Hats are sun hardy.” Harry’s balance wasn’t the only thing that was off.
“Have a nice time?” Peter asked mildly.
“Yep,” Harry said, draining the rest of his beer. He stared sadly at the empty bottle. “Time for a beer run. Pete, you wan’ one?”
Peter shook his head and reached out his hand to stop Harry from getting up. “You’d better switch to water, Harry.”
“Don’ be silly. I’m fine.” Harry pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. For a second it looked as if he was going to come back down in a hurry. Once he stopped swaying, he grinned proudly at us. “See? Fine.”
The doors from the terrace opened again and in walked Roni. So much for getting back to Avery early, I thought. Looking at us, she said, “Have any of you seen Megan? I can’t find her anywhere.”
Peter and I shook our heads, as did Claire and David. Megan had spent most of the night watching the band, but once they stopped playing, I hadn’t seen her. Harry glared at Roni and took an unsteady step toward her. “If anything happens to her, it’s your fault,” he said with slow deliberation.
Roni narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Harry leaned in close to her and jabbed her shoulder with his forefinger. “It means you’re a terrible mother, Roni. It means you ran your daughter off.”
Roni took a step back, her expression disdainful. She sniffed. “You’re drunk.”
Harry nodded his head vigorously, sending his blond hair falling into his eyes. “That I am,” he agreed. “But in the morning, I’ll be sober. You’ll still be a bitch.”
Without a word, Roni’s tanned arm swung up and she slapped him across the face. Claire let out a gasp. David sat still and stared bug-eyed. Peter and I jumped to our feet. Harry pulled his hand back to retaliate, but Peter grabbed it and pushed it back down. “Whoa!” Peter said. “Let’s everyone calm down.” But Harry wasn’t listening. “You’re a bitch,” he repeated. “You ruin everything you touch: Megan, my dad, everything. Someday you’ll get yours. And I hope I’m the one who gives it to you.” He pulled against Peter’s arm, but Peter held firm.
Roni’s face was white under her tan, but she held her ground. “You think I ruin things? Well, in your case you just might be right. After this, I’m going to make sure that your father cuts you off completely. You are done, Harry. Do you hear me?” Her voice rose an octave. “Done! You can bet on that.” She whirled around and marched back out to the terrace, slamming the door behind her. In the darkness outside, I saw a flash of red as the ember of a cigarette was lit.
Peter released his hold, and Harry fell back onto the couch. Peter and I stared down at him. “Are you okay, Harry?” I asked.
He nodded, rubbing the red mark on his cheek. “Yep. Except... ”
“Except, what?”
“Except, I think I’m going to be sick.”
Peter and I quickly yanked Harry to his feet. Propelling him up the stairs to the bathroom with lightning speed, we deposited him in front of the toilet and quickly backed out into the hall. “Thanks, guys,” he said thickly, before kicking the door shut. Through the door, I heard him begin to retch. After a minute, he called out, “Guys?”
“Still here, Harry,” I said. “Can I get you anything?”
“Better judgment would be nice. Think I’m going to take a quick shower.”
Peter, who was sharing a room with Harry, called out, “Good idea. We’ll wait for you.”
Hearing the shower turn on, Peter and I sat down on the top steps of the staircase. He wrapped his arm
