I didn’t know where the free-spirited girl I’d been had gone.
Angela's laugh brought me back around. She shook her head, “Oh God, remember that summer we all swore we would go to Europe together? That trip sounded like such fun. We should do it when the kids are older.” Her unintentionally cruel comment hit at just the wrong moment.
Helena twisted the already-painful knife in my gut, “I know. I miss us the way we were. We really should do a girls’ weekend before you and Phil get married and pregnant. You don’t want to go pregnant.”
I glanced at the bartender and wondered if I could make my joke with him not be a joke. He would make me young and reckless. He would be like the pill; make all the bad feelings go away. If Phil could do it, so could I. Couldn’t I?
No. I couldn’t. Probably not, anyway.
Diane nodded, “Yeah well, I’m down for whenever and whatever you all are. I need some time away from home. I’m going nuts.” She grabbed my hand and I saw desperation hiding in her gaze, “Don’t have kids. I swear, they’re such a pain in the ass and they suck every ounce of energy from you and your breasts.”
I laughed, letting it be a joke, “Your breasts are beautiful.”
She cocked an eyebrow, “Twenty thousand later.”
I snorted, spilling some of my wine. I wiped my lip with my fingers, “Oh God, I never would have guessed. You look beautiful. Do you guys have a napkin?”
They looked around amongst them. I blushed, “Be right back. I can’t believe it’s only four in the afternoon and I’ve got a hole in my lip already.” I rolled my eyes and sauntered over to the bar, “Can I get a napkin, please?” The pill was hitting.
He grinned and ran his hands through his sandy hair, “Sure thing.”
I shook my head, “Not that one. That one was a joke.”
He passed me a stack. His number was at the top, “Just in case you change your mind.”
I laughed, noticing Phil standing outside on the balcony with Eleanor. The sides of their bodies were pressed against each other, too close for a casual stance on a deck with a friend.
My heart slipped out of my chest and landed in my stomach with a thud. I nodded and folded it over, “Two hours?”
He winked, “You’re in trouble.”
I nodded, “I certainly hope so.” I wiped my lip and walked back to my group of friends, stuffing the napkin in my clutch.
Angela nodded, “That young, little, fresh piece of meat is looking at your ass.”
I glanced back, scowling at the young man. “He’s like ten years old.”
“He’s twenty. We're eight years older than him—tops. I’d do him in a heartbeat and you aren’t married yet.”
I looked at Helena and laughed, “He is a cutie. I would imagine not experienced enough.”
She gave me a look, “Who gives a shit? You should see if he needs help cleaning the bar up later? You know, volunteer work.”
I laughed, “I’m not like that.” She nodded, knowing what I meant. It was true, I wasn’t. I had never strayed from our engagement. Once I had agreed, the other way of life ended. I wasn’t ever unfaithful. I flirted and joked and played the game, but I had a thing about being touched by other people. It stemmed from childhood. I had never liked being touched by people I didn’t know.
“I know you’re not. But that is a fine young man, J.D.”
I grinned, “He’s jailbait. Anyway, what are your plans for the summer?”
She sighed, “Richard has a huge land deal going through, so I am taking the kids to the South of France and staying with my mother. She doesn’t want to do it alone, what with it being the first summer with Dad being gone.”
I sipped, starting to feel the pill taking away more of my inhibitions, “Of course. I still can’t believe he just left, after forty years together.”
She rolled her eyes, “He’d been gone the whole time.”
I nodded, wondering how long Phil had been gone. Maybe from the start. “The South of France sounds like fun.”
She scowled, “I’ll have all three kids. It sounds more like Richard’s going to have a summer similar to my Dad’s.”
I met her eyes, “Not Richard.”
Her eyes widened for a second and I saw it. She knew something, “You just never know people.” I didn’t have a response; we were never that open with each other.
Diane poked her head into the conversation that had turned to whispers, “Did you see Muriel Lawson? She’s tanked.”
I glanced over at the older woman. Her wrap dress had started to come apart a bit. I could see her black slip showing. I handed my wine to Helena, “Dear God.” I walked over quickly but not to draw attention.
Her face lit up, “J.D.! How are you?”
I wrapped my arms around the drunken woman and steered her to the bathroom, “Excellent, Muriel. How are you?”
She swallowed, “I am well, thank you, dear. How is Philip?”
I hated him in that moment, “He is the same. How is Donald?”
She winced, “He is a shit, Jacqueline. A shit. I threw him out last week. I’m done being Mrs. Donald Lawson. It’s time to just be Muriel.”
I laughed and pushed the door to the bathroom open, “And how is that going for you?”
She shook her head, pointing at me with a swaying body as I retied her dress for her, “Don’t end up like me. If you ever think Phil is misbehaving, he is. Where there’s smoke there’s fire. The men here are all the same and I know you don't want to marry Phil. I know that.”
I laughed, “Yes well, Father got into the good country clubs, you know?”
She nodded, “I know. I approved their application solely based on the fact Henry Bernard told me to.”
I straightened her dress and nodded, “There, all better.” I didn’t want to talk about the fact my newly-rich family sold me into marriage to get into the most exclusive cliques on the East Coast. It was more common than people realized. Old money had the connections but the new money had the fortunes. My parents now had both.
She shook her head “I think I’m going to be sick.”
I frowned. I had never seen her that way. She was the lady of the old money. I shook my head, “Let’s get you home.”
I sat her in a stall and slipped from the bathroom. One of the caterers walked up with a tray of used glasses. I grabbed her arm, “Do you have a car here?”
She nodded.
“If I give you a thousand dollars, will you do something for me and tell no one?”
She looked confused, “I guess.”
I sighed, “That bathroom has a woman who is so drunk, she’s about to throw up. I need you to get her to her house without anyone seeing her leave. Is that possible?”
She smiled, “Oh man, I thought you were going to ask me to do something really nasty.”
I laughed, “It might get there.”
I went back into the bathroom and got her cleaned up. The girl took her out the back door.
I leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. Philip came around the corner, giving me an odd look, “What are you doing back here? I was looking for you.” I could see the look of too much whiskey on his face. It was relaxed and cocky. I used to find it attractive. That had always been the only consolation, he was attractive.
I raised my eyebrows, “Nothing.”
He stepped too close to me, “You ready to go home?”
I nodded, “Sure am.”
He ran his finger down my bare arm, “You look nicer than normal. Did you do something different with your hair?”
I nodded, “I did.” Of course I didn’t. Did he even know me anymore?
He pointed to the door into the party, “So we’ll go then?”
I nodded and let him put his hand on the small of my back, leading me back out into the party. I nodded at Angela and Helena. They both wore the same glass face, frozen in fake happiness. What a world we lived in. Philip walked me out. Our driver was there within seconds, getting the door for me.
I climbed in and looked at the back of the front seat, not making eye contact with Phil as he climbed into the car. He took my hand in his, kissing the back of it. I almost grimaced, imagining where his lips had been. Had he kissed her? Had he made an arrangement to? Or had he just fucked her in a broom closet somewhere?
There were two types of silence I didn’t like to be caught in. The first was the empty air between two people, where one was guilty and the other was aware.
The air tricked you into believing it was empty, and yet, its weight was too great for one person to bear. It was heavy with the guilt and the worry of one person and loaded with the suspicions and self-doubt of the other.
It was that type of air that filled the car that we were in. It stole my heartbeat from me. I had no control over the thoughts or feelings weighing me down. I was stuck in the suspicion and self-doubt.
There were several sentences that could break that silence, but each one would be its own admission of guilt and betrayal. If he did talk, the darting eyes and telephone voice that was overly friendly would be the first indicator. Whether together or separate, we were not overly friendly people. We were flawed in all the right ways but we were together, at least I thought we were. I thought we had the same cause. His family needed more fortune and mine needed more old-money connection. We were both attractive and devoted to our families. We were perfect in our flawed ways.
But in the car, I sensed that a great crime had been committed and the stains of the death of our relationship marked his hands.
I wanted to be innocent in it all.
I wanted that, more than anything.
I wanted to wallow in the classiness of a woman scorned and martyred within her own home.
But I would not be innocent. I would just not be caught doing the thing that I was now certain he was doing.
When we got home, I sat on my bed staring at the napkin. The number made me feel worse. I had taken someone's number with the intention of calling and screwing his brains out. I wanted to be the girl I was before I conformed to the life I was stuck in. I took a breath and dialed my mother's number.