“It’s a little early,” I said. “Gran, you need to be somewhat sober tonight. All these people are coming to see you.”
“Is that a yes?” She picked up a second glass and poured, handing me the brownish liquid with a smile that would have looked right on the face of a seven-year old sneaking candy. Gran’s spirit helped bring my mood up—it always had. Life wasn’t perfect for her, but she never failed to find the things in it that she could laugh about. I needed to practice that.
“Those magazine folks here to capture more of your sister’s silliness on film?”
I sipped the drink and pressed my lips together instead of spluttering. “Strong,” I managed, once I’d swallowed what felt like fire down my throat.
Gran sighed and put her ereader down. “Tess, I want you to be happy, you know that, right?”
I wasn’t sure where this was coming from. “Thanks, Gran. I want me to be happy too. And I am, mostly.”
“Mostly.” She cackled, her eyes clouding as she gazed out at the rolling lawn. “Hoping your life is mostly happy. There’s a greeting card sentiment for you.”
Just then Jack and Chessy strolled by, Chessy trotting contentedly at Jack’s side. They seemed to have come to some kind of understanding. I thought maybe Chessy was actually happier than I was at this point.
“I hope he’s not thinking of taking my attack chicken when he goes back to LA,” Gran said.
I was about to respond when a familiar—if not altogether welcome—voice came around the side of the back porch. “Hey, Tess, hey Gran.”
“Tony,” Gran said, her lack of enthusiasm for Tony Myers made more evident by the amount of rye she’d already had today.
“Hope it’s okay, me popping in early,” he said, pulling up a chair. “Thought maybe you could use a little help getting things set up.”
Something in me warmed at Tony’s nearness. He was like a sibling—one I’d always been able to trust, to rely on. But there had never been anything else between us, and I felt regret too, that I couldn’t be happy with the man right in front of me. I smiled at Tony, who’d been part of my life since Kindergarten. We’d been boyfriend and girlfriend once for about six minutes in seventh grade, and I didn’t think Tony had really ever gotten over the breakup. (Which involved me telling him that I wasn’t as much a fan of Angel as I was of Spike, and that our fundamental Buffy disagreement probably meant we weren’t a good match.)
He was a good-looking guy, really. He’d grown into his lanky build and had filled out, and his light brown eyes were so familiar I couldn’t help but feel a little bit at home every time I found my gaze on his.
Tony was a nice guy, he was practically family. And he had loved me and looked out for me my whole life. He was the one guy I’d ever known who didn’t prefer my sister to me, who didn’t wish I was her. He was the guy who’d come when my parents had died while we were in school, who’d been here every time I’d needed a friend.
And he’d only tried to kiss me seventeen or eighteen times since seventh grade. Tony had never given up on me.
As I heard Ryan’s voice roll from inside the house, laughter at something my beautiful sister had said filtering through the afternoon air to where I sat, I realized that maybe I needed to give Tony a real chance. Tony was safe, he was reliable and certain. Tony was the man I was most likely destined to be with—the fact he was a constant in my life seemed like a message from the universe. Trying to change it was like trying to change fate.
And that was pointless. No matter how much my insides jumped when I thought of Ryan. Or how completely still they were at thoughts of Tony.
“That’s so nice of you,” I told Tony, smiling at him and coaxing my heart to warm. “You’re always so thoughtful.”
Gran was squinting at me, her mouth twisting on one side in clear confusion. “Tess, really? That’s how you’re going to play this?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, picking up my drink and finishing it in one long burning swallow. Unfortunately, the Luxardo cherry at the bottom followed the liquid directly into my windpipe.
I tried to cough politely, to coax the cherry from my throat, but it wasn’t working and I couldn’t get enough air to pop the thing out. I tried to swallow, but that wasn’t working either. My lungs began to constrict, panic starting to fizz at the edges of my mind as I realized that I was choking. People died from this. Every day.
A wheezing gasp came from my mouth as I pointed at my throat and swung my gaze desperately between Tony and Gran.
Fear swelled in me as my vision began to waver and I motioned to my throat, a horrible sucking noise coming from my mouth.
Tony’s eyes widened at me in horror as I mimed the Heimlich maneuver.
He shook his head lightly, looking from me to Gran and back again. Tony was not going to save me. I was doomed.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Gran said, rising and coming behind me. “Tony, you putz, I’m not strong enough, come here.”
Terror was spiking through me. I was going to die. Choking on a cherry.
At least I’d gotten to sleep with Ryan McDonnell first.
My vision was starting to black out when I felt Tony’s arms come around me, Gran’s voice distant but still sharp, telling him what to do. He squeezed me hard, once and then again. And the cherry popped out of its spot and flew onto the porch, landing with a plop.
I sank into a chair, sucking breath and then immediately launching into a coughing fit as Tony let go and guided me by my arm. My mind raced
