something new. Because he moved to London, where he writes for a magazine and is working on a book about London architecture, an interest he didn't acquire until he landed on British soil. But that's how Ethan is. He figures things out along the way, always ready to back up and start over, never bowing to pressure or expectations. I wish I could be more like him.
'So what did you do for your birthday?' Ethan asks.
I shut my office door and blurt it out. 'Darcy had a surprise party for me, I got wasted, and hooked up with Dex.'
I suppose this is what happens when you're not accustomed to having secrets. You don't learn the art of holding back. In fact, I am surprised I have lasted this long. I hear static in the line as the news travels across the Atlantic. I panic, wishing I could suck the admission back in.
'Get the fuck outta here. You're kidding me, right?'
My silence tells him that I'm serious.
'Ohhh, shhhit.' His voice is still smiling.
'What? What are you thinking?' I need to know if he's judging. I need to know what he thinks of me, if he is siding with Chanel Suit.
'Wait. Whaddaya mean, hooked up? You didn't sleep with him, did you?'
'Um. Yeah. Actually I did.'
I am relieved to hear him laugh, even though I tell him that it's not funny, that this is serious business.
'Oh, trust me. This is funny.'
I picture the dimple in his left cheek. 'And what exactly is so amusing?'
'Miss Goody Two-shoes screws her friend's fiance. This is raw comedy at its best.'
'Ethan!'
He stops laughing long enough to ask if I could be knocked up.
'No. We had that covered.'
'So to speak?'
'Yeah,' I say. Any pun I ever make is an accident.
'So no harm done, right? It was a mistake. Shit happens. People make mistakes, especially when they're wasted. Look at me and Brandi with an i.'
'I guess so. But still…'
Ethan whistles and then says the obvious-that Darcy would flip if she ever found out.
My other line rings. 'You need to get that?' Ethan asks.
'No. I'll let it roll to voice mail.'
'You sure? It could be your new boyfriend.'
'Ask yourself if you're being helpful,' I say, although I'm relieved that he is not preachy and serious. That's not Ethan's style, but you never know when someone is going to take the moral high ground. And there is definitely moral high ground all around here, particularly considering that Darcy is a friend of his too. Not as close as he and I are, but they still talk occasionally.
'Sorry. Sorry.' He snickers. 'Okay. Just one more substantive question.'
'What?'
'Was it good?'
'Ethan! I don't know. We were drunk!'
'So it was all sloppy?'
'C'mon, Ethan!' I say, as if I'm not thinking about the particulars. Meanwhile, a snapshot of the Incident flashes through my brain-my fingers pressed into Dexter's back. It is a perfect, airbrushed image. There is nothing sloppy about it.
'So you've spoken to him since?'
I tell him about the Hamptons weekend and the date with Marcus.
'Nice touch. Going for his friend. That way, if you marry Marcus, you guys can be swingers.'
I ignore him and continue with the rest-the ride to the jitney, last night, a summary of the e-mail.
'Wow. Shit. So… do you have feelings for him too?'
'I don't know,' I say, even though I know that the answer is yes.
'But the wedding's still on?'
'Yeah,' I say. 'As far as I know.'
'As far as you know?'
'Yes. It is.'
Silence. He is not laughing anymore, so my guilt returns in full force.
'What are you thinking now?'
'I was just wondering where you want this to go,' he says. 'What do you want from it? Is it a fling, or do you want him to call off the wedding?'
I flinch at the word 'fling.' That's not what it is at all, but at the same time, I don't think I want Dex to call off the wedding. I can't imagine doing that to Darcy. I tell Ethan that I don't know, I'm not sure.
'Hmm… Well, has he mentioned the engagement at all?'
'No. Not really.'
'Hmm.'
'What? What does 'hmm' mean?'
'It means I think he should call the shit off.'
'Because of me?' My stomach drops at the thought of being responsible for Darcy's canceled wedding. 'Maybe he just has cold feet?'
I hear my voice rising hopefully at the suggestion of mere cold feet. Why does part of me want it to be that simple? And how can I be so thrilled to be near Dex, so deeply moved by his e-mail, and still want, on some level, for him to marry Darcy?
'Rach-'
'Ethan, I know what you're going to say.'
I don't know exactly what he is going to say, but I have a hunch from his tone that it has something to do with where things are going to end up if I don't cease and desist. That it's going to blow up somehow. That someone-likely me-is going to get hurt. But I don't want to hear him say any of it.
'Okay. Just be careful. Don't get busted. Shit.'
I hear him laughing again.
'What?'
'Just thinking of Darcy… It's sort of satisfying.'
'Satisfying how?'
'Oh, come on. Don't even tell me that part of you doesn't like zinging her a little bit. There's some poetic justice here. Darcy's been riding roughshod over you for years.'
'What are you talking about?' I ask, genuinely surprised to hear him describe our friendship like that. I know I've been feeling more irritated by her recently and I know that she has not always been the most selfless of friends, but I've never thought of her as riding roughshod over me. 'No she hasn't.'
'Yeah, she has.'
'No. She hasn't' I say more firmly. I'm not sure who I am defending-me or Darcy. Yes, there was the matter of you, Ethan. But you don't know about that.
'Oh, please. Remember Notre Dame? The SATs?'
I think back to the day we all received our SAT scores, sealed in white envelopes from Guidance. We were all tight-lipped, but dying to know what everyone else got. Finally Darcy just said at lunch, 'Okay, who cares. Let's just tell our scores. Rachel?'
'Why do I have to go first?' I asked. I was satisfied with my score, but still didn't want to go first.
'Don't be a baby,' Darcy said. 'Just tell us.'
'Fine. Thirteen hundred,' I said.
'What was your verbal?' she asked.
I told her 680.
'Nice,' she said. 'Congratulations.'
