The Unhoneymooners

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Fortwoswornenemies,anythingcanhappenduringtheHawaiiantripofalifetime—maybeevenlove—inthisromanticcomedyfromtheNewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorsofRoomies
OliveTorresisusedtobeingtheunluckytwin:frominexplicablemishapstoarecentlayoff,herlifeseemstobealmostcomicallyjinxed.Bycontrast,hersisterAmiisaneternalchampion.sheevenmanagedtofinanceherentireweddingbywinningaslewofcontests.UnfortunatelyforOlive,theonlythingworsethanconstantbadluckishavingtospendtheweddingdaywiththebestman(andhernemesis),EthanThomas.Olivebracesherselfforweddinghell,determinedtoputonabraveface,butwhentheentireweddingpartygetsfoodpoisoning,theonlypeoplewhoaren’taffectedareOliveandEthan.Suddenlythere’safreehoneymoonupforgrabs,andOlivewillbedamnedifEthangetstoenjoyparadisesolo.Agreeingtoatemporarytruce,thepairheadforMaui.Afterall,tendaysofblissisworthhavingtoassumetheroleoflovingnewlyweds,right?Buttheweirdthingis.Olivedoesn’tmindplayingpretend.Infact,themoreshepretendstobetheluckiestwomanalive,themoreitfeelslikeshemightbe.WithChristinaLauren’s“uniquelyhilariousandtouchingvoice”(EntertainmentWeekly),TheUnhoneymoonersisaromanceforanyonewhohaseverfeltunluckyinlove.
ChristinaLaurenisthecombinedpennameoflongtimewritingpartners/besties/soulmatesandbrain-twinsChristinaHobbsandLaurenBillings,theNewYorkTimes,USAToday,and#1internationalbestsellingauthorsoftheBeautifulandtheWildSeasonsseries,MyFavoriteHalf-NightStand,LoveandOtherWords,JoshandHazel’sGuidetoNotDating,MyFavoriteHalf-NightStand,DatingYou/HatingYou,Roomies,Sublime,TheHouse,andAutoboyographyYoucanfindthemonlineatchristinalaurenbooks.com,Facebook.com/ChristinaLaurenBooks,or@ChristinaLaurenonTwitter.DearReader,
Howdoyouknowifyou’reluckyorunlucky?Theanswermightdependonyourlevelofsuperstitionorhowmanymirrorsyou’vebroken.InTheUnhoneymooners,OliveTorresperceivesherselfasoneoftheunlucky.Shehasplentyofunluckinessallonherown.Fromgettingstuckinatoy-prizeclawmachineasakidtolosingherjob,shejustcan’tseemtocatchabreak,especiallywhencomparedtoher#alwayswinningsister,Ami.SowhenAmihastoskipherownhoneymoonduetohorrificfoodpoisoningfromtheweddingbuffetandsendsOliveinherplace,alongwithOlive’sarchnemesis,Ethan,it’saperfectstormofgoodluckandbad.
Filledwithtropicalsunsets,exencounters,andanoncouplecouplesmassagethatyouwon’twanttomiss,ChristinaLauren’slatestromanticcomedyisperfectforfansofJasmineGuillory’sTheProposalandSallyThorne’sTheHatingGame.Sometimes,theworstdayofyourlifemightturnouttobethebestthingthateverhappenedtoyou—italldependsonthewayyoulookatit.
SograbyourmaitaiandpreparetovacationwithTheUnhoneymooners!Ihopeitleavesyoufeelinglucky.
KateDresser,Editor
Kate.Dresser@simonandschuster.com
212-698-7575PraisefortheNovelsof
CHRISTINALAUREN
“Afunny,sexypage-turnerthatwarns:Keepyourfriendscloseandtheiravatarscloser.”
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—PublishersWeeklyonMyFavoriteHalf-NightStand(starredreview)
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—KirkusReviewsonJoshandHazel’sGuidetoNotDating(starredreview)
“Thestoryskipsalong.propelledbyrom-commomentumandcharm.”
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—BooklistonJoshandHazel’sGuidetoNotDating
“FromLauren’swittoherloveofwordplayandliteraturetoswoonylovescenestoheroineswholearntosetasidetheirownself-doubts.Laurenwritesofthebittersweetpangsofloveandlosswithpiercingclarity.”
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“Laurenbringshercharacteristiccharmtothestory.Holland’staleismorethananunrequitedcrush;it’saboutself-expectations,problematicfriendships,unconventionalfamily,andthestrangepoweroflove.”
—BooklistonRoomies
“Delightful.”
—PeopleonRoomies
“Atturnshilariousandgut-wrenching,thisisatremendouslyfunslowburn.”
—WashingtonPostonDatingYou/HatingYou(ABestRomanceof2017selection)
“Trulyaromanceforthetwenty-firstcentury.Asmart,sexyromanceforreaderswhothriveongirlpower.”
—KirkusReviewsonDatingYou/HatingYou(starredreview)
“ChristinaLaurenhilariouslydepictsmoderndating.”
—UsWeeklyonDatingYou/HatingYou
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“Theperfectsummerread.”
—SelfonSweetFilthyBoyAlsobyChristinaLauren
DatingYou/HatingYou
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LoveandOtherWords
JoshandHazel’sGuidetoNotDating
MyFavoriteHalf-NightStand
TheBeautifulSeries
BeautifulBastard
BeautifulStranger
BeautifulBitch
BeautifulBombshell
BeautifulPlayer
BeautifulBeginning
BeautifulBeloved
BeautifulSecret
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SweetFilthyBoy
DirtyRowdyThing
DarkWildNight
WickedSexyLiar
YoungAdult
TheHouse
Sublime
AutoboyographyForHuguesdeSaintVincent.Worklikeacaptain,playlikeapiratechapterone
Inthecalmbeforethestorm—inthiscase,theblessedquietbeforethebridalsuiteisoverrunbytheweddingparty—mytwinsisterstarescriticallydownatafreshlypaintedshell-pinkfingernailandsays,“Ibetyou’rerelievedI’mnotabridezilla.”Sheglancesacrosstheroomatmeandsmilesgenerously.“Ibetyouexpectedmetobeimpossible.”
Itisastatementsoperfectlydroppedinthemoment,Iwanttotakeapictureandframeit.IshareaknowinglookwithourcousinJulieta,whoisrepaintingAmi’stoes(“Itshouldbemorepetalpinkthanbabypink,don’tyouthink?”),andgesturetothebodiceofAmi’sweddinggown—whichhangsfromasatinhangerandonwhichIampresentlyandpainstakinglyensuringthateverysequinislyingflat.“Define‘bridezilla.’”
Amimeetsmyeyesagain,thistimewithahalf-heartedglare.She’sinherfancywedding-bracontraptionandskimpyunderwearthatI’maware—withsomedegreeofsiblingnausea—herdudebrofiancéDanewillpositivelydestroylater.Hermakeupistastefullydoneandherfluffyveilispinnedinherupsweptdarkhair.It’sjarring.Imean,we’reusedtolookingidenticalwhileknowingwe’rewhollydifferentpeopleinside,butthisissomethingentirelyunfamiliar:Amiistheportraitofabride.Herlifesuddenlybearsnoresemblancetominewhatsoever.
“I’mnotabridezilla,”sheargues.“I’maperfectionist.”
Ifindmylistandholditaloft,wavingittocatchherattention.It’sapieceofheavy,scalloped-edgedpinkstationerythathasOlive’sTo-DoList—WeddingDayEditionwritteninmeticulouscalligraphyatthetop,andwhichincludesseventy-four(seventy-four)itemsrangingfromCheckforsymmetryofthesequinsonthebridalgowntoRemoveanywiltedpetalsfromthetablearrangements.
Eachbridesmaidhasherownlist,perhapsnotquiteaslongasmymaid-of-honoronebutequallyfancyandhandwritten.Amievendrewcheckboxessothatwecanrecordwheneachchoreiscompleted.
“Somepeoplemightcalltheselistsalittleoverboard,”Isay.
“Thosearethesame‘somepeople,’”shereplies,“who’llpayanarmandalegforaweddingthatishalfasnice.”
“Right.Theyhireaweddingplannerto—”Irefertomylist.“‘Wipecondensationoffthechairsahalfhourbeforetheceremony.’”
Amiblowsacrossherfingernailstodrythemandletsoutamovie-villainlaugh.“Fools.”
Youknowwhattheysayaboutself-fulfillingprophecies,I’msure.Winningmakesyoufeellikeawinner,andthensomehow.youkeepwinning.Ithastobetrue,becauseAmiwinseverything.Shetossedaticketintoarafflebowlatastreetfairandwalkedhomewithasetofcommunitytheatertickets.SheslidherbusinesscardintoacupatTheHappyGnomeandwonfreehappyhourbeersforayear.She’swonmakeovers,books,moviepremieretickets,alawnmower,endlessT-shirts,andevenacar.Ofcourse,shealsowonthestationeryandcalligraphysetsheusedtowritetheto-dolists.
Allthistosay,assoonasDaneThomasproposed,Amisawitasachallengetospareourparentsthecostofthewedding.Asithappens,MomandDadcouldaffordtocontribute—theyaremessyinmanyways,butfinanciallyisnotoneofthem—butforAmi,gettingoutofpayingforanythingisthebestkindofgame.Ifpre-engagementAmithoughtofcontestsasacompetitivesport,engagedAmiviewedthemastheOlympics.
Nooneinourenormousfamilywassurprised,then,whenshesuccessfullyplannedaposhweddingwithtwohundredguests,aseafoodbuffet,achocolatefountain,andmulticoloredrosesspillingoutofeveryjar,vase,andgoblet—andhasshelledout,atmost,athousanddollars.Mysisterworksherassofftofindthebestpromotionsandcontests.SherepostseveryTwitterandFacebookgiveawayshecanfind,andevenhasanemailaddressthatisaptlynamedAmeliaTorresWins@xmail.com.
Finallyconvincedtherearenomisbehavingsequins,Iliftthehangerfromwhereit’ssuspendedfromametalhookattachedtothewall,intendingtobringthegowntoher.
ButassoonasItouchit,mysisterandcousinscreaminunison,andAmiholdsupherhands,hermattepinklipsinahorrifiedO.
“Leaveitthere,Ollie,”shesays.“I’llcomeover.Withyourluck,you’lltripandtearit.”
Idon’targue:sheisn’twrong.
???
WHEREASAMIISAFOUR-LEAFclover,Ihavealwaysbeenunlucky.Idon’tsaythattobetheatricalorbecauseIonlyseemunluckyincomparison;itisanobjectivetruth.GoogleOliveTorres,Minnesota,andyou’llfinddozensofarticlesandcommentthreadsdedicatedtothetimeIclimbedintoonethoseclawcranearcadegamesandgotstuck.Iwassix,andwhenthestuffedanimalI’dcaptureddidn’tdropdirectlyintothechute,Idecidedtogoinandgetit.
Ispenttwohoursinsidethemachine,surroundedbyalotofhard,coarse-furred,chemical-smellingtoybears.Irememberlookingoutthroughthehandprint-smudgedplexiglassandseeinganarrayoffranticfacesshoutingmuffledorderstoeachother.Apparently,whentheownersofthearcadeexplainedtomyparentsthattheydidn’tactuallyownthegameandthereforedidn’thavethekeytogetinside,theEdinafiredepartmentwascalled,followedquicklybyalocalnewscrew,whodiligentlydocumentedmyextraction.
Fast-forwardtwenty-sixyearsand—thankyou,YouTube—there’sstillvideofloatingaround.Todate,nearlythreehundredthousandpeoplehavewatcheditanddiscoveredthatIwasstubbornenoughtoclimbin,andunluckyenoughtocatchmybeltlooponthewayout,leavingmypantsbehindwiththebears.
Thisisbutonestoryofmany.Soyes,AmiandIareidenticaltwins—wearebothfivefootfourwithdarkhairthatmisbehaveswhenthere’sevenahintofhumidity,deepbrowneyes,upturnednoses,andmatchingconstellationsoffreckles—butthat’swherethesimilaritiesend.Ourmotheralwaystriedtoembraceourdifferencessowe’dfeellikeindividualsratherthanamatchingset.Iknowherintentionsweregood,butforaslongasIcanremember,ourroleswereset:Amiisanoptimistwholooksforthesilverlining;Itendtoassumetheskyisfalling.Whenwewerethree,MomevendressedusasCareBearsforHalloween:AmiwasFunshineBear.IwasGrumpy.
Andit’scleartheself-fulfillingprophecyworksinbothdirections:FromthemomentIwatchedmyselfpickingmynosebehindapieceofgrimyplexiglassonthesixo’clocknews,myluckneverreallyimproved.I’veneverwonacoloringcontestoranofficepool;notevenalotteryticketoragameofPintheTailontheDonkey.Ihave,however,brokenalegwhensomeonefellbackwarddownthestairsandknockedmeover(theywalkedawayunscathed),consistentlydrewbathroomdutyduringeveryextendedfamilyvacationforafive-yearstretch,waspeedonbyadogwhilesunbathinginFlorida,havebeenpoopedonbyinnumerablebirdsovertheyears,andwhenIwassixteenIwasstruckbylightning—yes,really—andlivedtotellthetale(buthadtogotosummerschoolbecauseImissedtwoweeksofclassesattheendoftheyear).AmilikestosunnilyremindmethatIonceguessedthecorrectnumberofshotsleftinahalf-emptybottleoftequilaButafterdrinkingmostofthemincelebratorygleeandsubsequentlythrowingitallbackupagain,thatwindidn’tfeelparticularlyfortunate.
???
AMIREMOVESTHE(FREE)DRESSfromthehangerandstepsintoitjustasourmothercomesintotheroomfromher(alsofree)adjoiningsuite.ShegaspssodramaticallywhensheseesAmiinthegown,I’msurebothAmiandIsharethethought:Olivesomehowmanagedtostaintheweddingdress.
IinspectittomakesureIhaven’t
Allclear,Amiexhales,motioningformetocarefullyzipherup.“Mami,youscaredthecrapoutofus.”
WithaheadfullofenormousVelcrorollers,ahalf-finishedglassof(youguessedit:free)champagneinhand,andherlipsthickwithredgloss,MomismanaginganimpressiveimpersonationofJoanCrawford.IfJoanCrawfordhadbeenborninGuadalajara.“Oh,mijita,youlookbeautiful.”
Amiglancesupather,smiles,andthenseemstoremember—withimmediateseparationanxiety—thelistsheleftallthewayacrosstheroom.Hitchingherbillowingdressup,sheshufflestothetable.“Mom,yougavetheDJthethumbdrivewiththemusic?”
Ourmotherdrainsherglassbeforedaintilytakingaseatontheplushcouch.“Sí,Amelia.Igaveyourlittleplasticsticktothewhitemanwithcornrowsintheterriblesuit.”
Mom’smagentadressisimpeccable,hertanlegscrossedatthekneeassheacceptsanotherfluteofchampagnefromthebridalsuiteattendant.
“Hehasagoldtooth,”Momadds.“ButI’msurehe’sverygoodathisjob.”
Amiignoresthisandherconfidentcheckmarkscratchesthroughtheroom.Shedoesn’treallycareiftheDJisn’tuptoourmother’sstandards,orevenherown.He’snewintown,andshewonhisservicesinaraffleatthehospitalwheresheworksasahematologynurse.Freetrumpstalented,everytime.
“Ollie,”Amisays,eyesneverstrayingfromthelistinfrontofher,“youneedtogetdressed,too.It’shangingonthebackofthebathroomdoor.”
Iimmediatelydisappearintothebathroomwithamocksalute.“Yes,ma’am.”
Ifthere’sonequestionwe’reaskedmorethananyother,it’swhichoneofusistheoldest.Iwouldthinkit’sfairlyobvious,becausealthoughAmiisamerefourminutesolderthanme,sheiswithoutadoubttheleader.Growingup,weplayedwhatshewantedtoplay,wentwhereshewantedtogo,andwhileImayhavecomplained,forthemostpartIhappilyfollowed.Shecantalkmeintoalmostanything.
WhichisexactlyhowIendedupinthisdress.
“Ami.”Ithrowopenthebathroomdoor,horrifiedbywhatI’vejustseeninthesmallbathroommirror.Maybeit’sthelight,Ithink,hikinguptheshinygreenmonstrosityandmakingmywaytooneofthelargermirrorsinthesuite.
Wow.It’sdefinitelynotthelight.
“Olive,”sheanswersback.
“Ilooklikeagiantcanof7UP.”
“Yes,girl!”Julessings.“Maybesomeonewillfinallycrackthatthingopen.”
Momclearsherthroat.
Igloweratmysister.IwaswaryofbeingabridesmaidinaWinterWonderland–themedweddinginJanuary,somyonlyrequestasthemaidofhonorwasthatmydresswouldn’thaveascrapofredvelvetorwhitefur.IseenowthatIshouldhavebeenmorespecific.
“Didyouactuallychoosethisdress?”Ipointtomyabundanceofcleavage.“Thiswasintentional?”
Amitiltsherhead,studyingme.“Imean,intentionalinthesensethatIwontheraffleatValleyBaptist.Allthebridesmaidsdressesinonego—justthinkofthemoneyIsavedyou.”
“We’reCatholic,notBaptist,Ami.”Itugonthefabric.“IlooklikeahostessatO’Gara’sonSt.Paddy’sday.”
Irealizemyprimaryerror—notseeingthisdressuntiltoday—butmysisterhasalwayshadimpeccabletaste.Onthedayofthefittings,Iwasinmyboss’soffice,pleading,unsuccessfully,tonotbeoneofthefourhundredscientiststhecompanywaslettinggo.IknowIwasdistractedwhenshesentmeaphotoofthedressbutIdon’trememberitlookingthissatinyorthisgreen.
Iturntoseeitfromanotherangleand—dearGod,itlooksevenworsefromtheback.Itdoesn’thelpthatafewweeksofstress-bakinghavemademe,let’ssay.alittlefullerinthechestandhips.“Putmeinthebackofeverypicture,andIcouldbeyourgreenscreen.”
Julescomesupbehindme,tinyandtonedinherownshinygreenensemble.“Youlookhotinit.Trustme.”
“Mami,”Amicalls,“doesn’tthatnecklineshowoffOllie’scollarbones?”
“Andherchichis.”Mom’sglasshasbeenrefilledoncemore,andshetakesanotherlong,slowdrink.
Therestofthebridesmaidstumbleintothesuite,andthereisaloud,collective,emotionaluproaroverhowbeautifulAmilooksinherdress.ThisreactionisstandardintheTorresfamily.Irealizethismaysoundliketheobservationofabittersibling,butIpromise,it’snot.Amihasalwayslovedattention,and—asevidencedbymyscreamingonthesixo’clocknews—Idonot.Mysisterpracticallyglowsunderthespotlight;Iammorethanhappytohelpdirectthespotlightherway.
Wehavetwelvefemalefirstcousins;allofusineachother’sbusiness24/7,butwithonlyseven(free)dressesincludedinAmi’sprize,harddecisionshadtobemade.AfewcousinsarestilllivingonMountPassive-Aggressiveoveritandwentinontheirownroomtogethertogetready,butit’sprobablyforthebest;thisroomiswaytoosmallforthatmanywomentosafelymaneuverthemselvesintoSpanxatthesametime,anyway.
Acloudofhairsprayhangsintheairaroundus,andthereareenoughcurlingandflatironsandvariousbottleslitteringthecountertokeepadecent-sizedsalongoing.Everysurfacegrowseithertackywithsomesortofstylingproductorhiddenbeneaththecontentsofsomeone’soverturnedmakeupbag.
There’saknockatthesuitedoor,andJulesopensittofindourcousinDiegostandingontheotherside.Twenty-eight,gay,andbettergroomedthanIcouldevermanage,DiegocriedsexismwhenAmitoldhimhecouldn’tbepartofthebridalpartyandwouldhavetohangwiththegroomsmen.Ifhisexpressionashetakesinmydressisanyindication,henowconsidershimselfblessed.
“Iknow,”Isay,givingupandsteppingawayfromthemirror.“It’salittle—”
“Tight?”heguesses.
“No—”
“Shiny?”
Iglareathim.“No.”
“Slutty?”
“Iwasgoingtosaygreen.”
Hetiltshisheadashestepsaroundme,absorbingitfromeveryangle.“Iwasgoingtooffertodoyourmakeup,butit’dbeawasteofmytime.”Hewavesahand.“Noonewillbelookingatyourfacetoday.”
“Noslut-shaming,Diego,”mymothersays,andInoticeshedidn’tdisagreewithhisassessment,shejusttoldhimnottoshamemeforit.
Igiveuponworryingaboutthedress—andhowmuchboobI’mgoingtohaveondisplayfortheentireweddingandreception—andturnbacktothechaosoftheroom.WhilecousinsStaticGuardeachotherandaskopinionsonshoes,adozenconversationsarehappeningatonce.Nataliadyedherbrownhairtoblondandisconvincedshehasruinedherface.Diegoagrees.TheunderwirepoppedoutofStephanie’sstraplessbra,andTíaMaríaisexplaininghowtojusttapeupherboobsinstead.CamiandXimenaarearguingoverwhoseSpanxarewhose,andMomispolishingoffherglassofchampagne.Butamidallthenoiseandchemicals,Ami’sattentionisbackonherlist.“Olive,haveyoucheckedinwithDad?Ishehereyet?”
“HewasinthereceptionhallwhenIgothere.”
“Good.”Anothercheck.
Itmightseemstrangethatthejobofcheckinginwithourdadfelltome,andnothiswife—ourmother—whoissittingrighthere,butthat’showitworksinourfamily.Theparentalsdon’tinteractdirectly,notsinceDadcheatedandMomkickedhimoutbutthenrefusedtodivorcehim.Ofcoursewewereonherside,butit’sbeentenyearsandthedramaisstilljustasfreshforbothofthemtodayasitwasthedayshecaughthim.Ican’tthinkofasingleconversationthey’vehadthathasn’tbeenthroughme,Ami,oroneoftheircombinedsevensiblingssinceDadleft.Werealizedearlyonthatit’seasierforeveryonethisway,butthelingeringsenseIhavefromallofitisthatloveisexhausting.
Amireachesformylist,andIscrambletogettoitbeforeshedoes;mylackofcheckmarkswouldsendherreelingintopanic.Scanningdown,Iamthrilledtoseethenextto-dorequiresmetoleavethisfoggydenofhairspray.
“I’llgocheckwiththekitchentomakesurethey’remakingaseparatemealforme.”Thefreeweddingbuffetcamewithashellfishspreadthatwouldsendmetothemorgue.
“HopefullyDanealsoorderedchickenforEthan.”Amifrowns.“God,Ihope.Canyouask?”
Allchatterintheroomcomestoadeafeninghalt,andelevenpairsofeyesswingmyway.AdarkcloudshiftsacrossmymoodatthementionofDane’solderbrother.
AlthoughDaneisfirmlyadequate,ifnotabitbro-yformytastes—thinkyellingatthetelevisionduringsports,vanityaboutmuscles,andarealefforttomatchallofhisworkoutgear—hemakesAmihappy.That’sgoodenoughforme.
Ethan,ontheotherhand,isaprickish,judgmentalasshole.
AwarethatIamthecenterofattention,Ifoldmyarms,alreadyannoyed.“Why?Isheallergic,too?”Forsomereason,theideaofhavingsomethingincommonwithEthanThomas,thesurliestmanalive,makesmefeelirrationallyviolent.
“No,”Amisays.“He’sjustfussyaboutbuffets.”
Thisjerksalaughfromme.“Aboutbuffets.Okay.”FromwhatI’veseen,Ethanisfussyaboutliterallyeverything.
Forexample,atDaneandAmi’sFourthofJulybarbecue,hewouldn’ttouchanyofthefoodIspenthalfthedaymaking.AtThanksgiving,heswitchedchairswithhisdad,Doug,justsohewouldn’thavetositnexttome.Andlastnightattherehearsaldinner,everytimeIhadabiteofcake,orJulesandDiegomademelaugh,EthanrubbedhistemplesinthemostdramaticshowofsufferingI’deverseen.FinallyIleftmycakebehindandgotuptosingkaraokewithDadandTíoOmar.MaybeI’mstillfuriousthatIgaveupthreebitesofreallygoodcakebecauseofEthanThomas.
Amifrowns.She’snotthebiggestfanofEthaneither,butshe’sgottobetiredofhavingthisconversation.“Olive.Youbarelyknowhim.”
“Iknowhimwellenough.”Ilookatherandsaytwosimplewords:“Cheesecurds.”
Mysistersighs,shakingherhead.“IsweartoGodyouwillneverletthatgo.”
“BecauseifIeat,laugh,orbreatheI’moffendinghisdelicatesensibilities.YouknowI’vebeenaroundhimatleastfiftytimes,andhestillmakesthisfacelikehe’stryingtoplacewhoIam?”Imotionbetweenus.“We’retwins.”
Nataliaspeaksupfromwhereshe’steasingthebackofherbleachedhair.Howisitfairthatherbigboobsmanagetofitinsideherdress?“Now’syourchancetomakefriendswithhim,Olive.Mmm,he’ssopretty.”
IgivehertheDispleasedTorresBrowArchinreply.
“You’llhavetogofindhimanyway,”Amisays,andmyattentionwhipsbacktoher.
“Wait.Why?”
Atmybaffledexpression,shepointstomylist.“Numbersev—”
PanicsetsinimmediatelyatthesuggestionthatIneedtotalktoEthan,andIholdupmyhandforhertostopspeaking.Sureenough,whenIlookatmylist,atspotseventy-three—becauseAmiknewIwouldn’tbotherreadingtheentirelistaheadoftime—istheworstassignmentever:GetEthantoshowyouhisbestman’sspeech.Don’tlethimsaysomethingterrible.
IfIcan’tblamethisburdenonluck,Icanabsolutelyblameitonmysister.chaptertwo
AssoonasI’moutinthehallway,thenoise,chaos,andfumesofthebridalsuiteseemtobevacuum-sealedaway;itisbeautifullysilentouthere.It’ssopeaceful,infact,thatIdon’twanttoleavethemomenttogofindthedoordownthehallwiththecutelittlegroomcaricaturehangingabovethepeephole.Thetranquilfigurinehideswhatisnodoubtaweed-and-beer-fueledpre-weddingragerhappeninginside.Evenparty-lovingDiegowaswillingtoriskhishearingandrespiratoryhealthtohangwiththebridalpartyinstead.
Igivemyselftendeepbreathstodelaytheinevitable.
It’smytwin’swedding,andIreallyamsohappyforherIcouldburst.Butit’sstillhardtobuoymyselffully,especiallyinthesesolo,quietmoments.Chronicbadluckaside,thelasttwomonthshavegenuinelysucked:myroommatemovedout,soIhadtofindanew,tinyapartment.Eventhen,IoverextendedwhatIthoughtIcouldaffordonmyownand—asmypatentedbadluckwouldhaveit—gotlaidofffromthepharmaceuticalcompanywhereI’dworkedforsixyears.Inthepastfewweeks,I’veinterviewedatnofewerthansevencompaniesandhaven’theardbackfromasingleoneofthem.AndnowhereIam,abouttocomeface-to-facewithmynemesis,EthanThomas,whilewearingtheshiny,flayedpeltofKermittheFrog.
It’shardtobelievetherewasatimewhenIcouldn’twaittomeetEthan.Thingsbetweenmysisterandherboyfriendwerestartingtogetserious,andAmiwantedtointroducemetoDane’sfamily.IntheparkinglotattheMinnesotaStateFairgrounds,Ethanclimbedoutofhiscar,withastonishinglylonglegsandeyessoblueIcouldseethemfromtwocar-lengthsaway.Upclosehehadmoreeyelashthananymanhasarightto.Hisblinkwasslowandcocky.Helookedmesquarelyintheeye,shookmyhand,andthensmiledadangerous,unevensmile.Sufficetosay,Ifeltanythingbutsisterlyinterest.
ButthenapparentlyImadethecardinalsinofbeingacurvygirlgettingabasketofcheesecurds.Wehadstoppedjustpasttheentrancetomakeagameplanforourday,andIslippedawaytogetasnack—thereisnothingmoregloriousthanthefoodattheMinnesotaStateFair.Icamebacktofindthegroupnearthelivestockdisplay.Ethanlookedatme,thendowntomydeliciousbasketoffriedcheesecurds,frowned,andimmediatelyturnedaway,mumblingsomeexcuseaboutneedingtogofindthehomebrewcompetition.Ididn’tthinkallthatmuchofitatthetime,butIdidn’tseehimfortherestoftheafternoon,either.
Fromthatdayon,he’sbeennothingbutdisdainfulandpricklywithme.WhatamItothink?Thathewentfromsmiletodisgustintenminutesforsomeotherreason?ObviouslymyopinionofEthanThomasis:hecanbiteme.Withtheexceptionoftoday(whollybecauseofthisdress),Ilikemybody.I’mnevergoingtoletsomeonemakemefeelbadaboutitoraboutcheesecurds.
Voicescarryfromtheothersideofthegroom’ssuite—somefrattycheeraboutmansweatorbeeroropeningabagofCheetoswiththeforceofahardstare;whoknows,it’sDane’sweddingpartywe’retalkingabout.Iraisemyfistandknock,andthedooropenssoimmediatelythatIstartleback,catchingmyheelonthehemofmydressandnearlyfalling.
It’sEthan;ofcourseitis.Hereachesout,hishandseasilycatchingmearoundthewaist.Ashesteadiesme,Ifeelmylipcurl,andwatchthesamemildrevulsionworkitswaythroughhimashepullshishandsawayandtucksthemintohispocketsIimaginehe’llripopenadisinfectantwipethemomenthehasthechance.
Themovementdrawsmyattentiontowhathe’swearing—atuxedo,obviously—andhowwellitfitshislong,wiryframe.Hisbrownhairisneatlycombedoffhisforehead;hiseyelashesareaspreposterouslylongastheyalwaysare.Itellmyselfthathisthick,darkbrowsareobnoxiousoverkill—settledown,MotherNature—buttheydolookundeniablygreatonhisface.
Ireallydon’tlikehim.
I’vealwaysknownEthanwashandsome—I’mnotblind—butseeinghimdressedinblacktieisabittoomuchclarificationformyliking.
Hegivesmethesameperusal.Hestartswithmyhair—maybehe’sjudgingmeforwearingitclippedbacksoplainly—andthenlooksatmysimplemakeup—heprobablydatesmakeup-tutorialInstagrammodels—beforeslowlyandmethodicallytakinginmydress.Itakeadeepbreathtoresistcrossingmyarmsovermymidsection.
Heliftshischin.“Thatwasfree,I’massuming.”
AndI’massumingdrivingmykneerightintohiscrotchwouldfeelfantastic.“Beautifulcolor,don’tyouthink?”
“YoulooklikeaSkittle.”
“Aw,Ethan.Stopwiththeseduction.”
Atinygrintwitchesthesideofhismouth.“Sofewpeoplecanpulloffthatcolor,Olivia.”
Fromhistone,IcantellIamnotincludedinthisfew.“It’sOlive.”
ItamusesmyextendedfamilytonoendthatmyparentsnamedmeOlive,nottheeternallymorelyricalOlivia.SinceIcanremember,allmyunclesonMom’ssidecallmeAceitunajusttorankleher.
ButIdoubtEthanknowsthat;he’sjustbeingadick.
Herocksbackonhisheels.“Right,right.”
Iamtiredofthegame.“Okay,thisisfun,butIneedtoseeyourspeech.”
“Mytoast?”
“Areyoucorrectingmywording?”Iwaveahandforward.“Letmesee.”
Heleansacasualshoulderagainstthedoorframe.“No.”
“Thisisreallyforyoursafety.Amiwillmurderyouwithherbarehandsifyousaysomethingdickish.Youknowthis.”
Ethantiltshishead,sizingmeup.He’ssixfootfour,andAmiandIarenot.Hispointismade,veryclearly,withnowords:I’dliketoseehertry.
Daneappearsoverhisshoulder,hisfacefallingassoonasheseesme.ApparentlyI’mnotthebeerwenchtheywerebothhopingfor.“Oh.”Herecoversquickly.“Hey,Ollie.Everythingokay?”
Ismilebrightly.“Fine.Ethanwasjustgettingreadytoshowmehisspeech.”
“Histoast?”
Whoknewthisfamilywassuchasticklerforlabels?
“Yeah.”
DanenodstoEthanandmotionsbackinsidetheroom.“It’syourturn.”Helooksatme,explaining,“We’replayingKings.Mybigbrotherisabouttogetowned.”
“Adrinkinggamebeforethewedding,”Isay,andletoutalittlechuckle“Soundslikeaprudentchoice.”
“Bethereinaminute.”Ethansmilesathisbrother’sretreatingformbeforeturningbacktome,andwebothdropthegrins,puttingourgamefacesbackon.
“Didyouatleastwritesomething?”Iask.“You’renotgoingtotrytowingit,areyou?Thatnevergoeswell.Nooneiseverasfunnyoffthecuffastheythinktheyare,especiallyyou.”
“Especiallyme?”AlthoughEthanistheportraitofcharismaaroundnearlyeveryotherhuman,withmehe’sarobot.Rightnowhisfaceissocontrolled,socomfortablyblank,thatIcan’ttellwhetherI’vegenuinelyoffendedhimorhe’sbaitingmeintosayingsomethingworse.
“I’mnotevensureifyoucouldbefunny..”Ifalter,butwebothknowI’mcommittedtothishorrificrimshot:“.onthecuff.”
Adarkeyebrowtwitches.Hehassuccessfullybaitedme.
“Okay,”Igrowl,“justmakesureyourtoastdoesn’tsuck.”Iglancedownthehall,andthenremembertheotherbitofbusinessIhadwithhim.“AndIassumeyoucheckedwiththekitchentomakesureyoudon’thavetoeatthebuffetfordinner?OtherwiseIcandoitwhenI’mdownthere.”
Hedropsthesarcasticgrinandreplacesitwithsomethingresemblingsurprise.“That’sprettyconsiderate.No,Ihadn’taskedforanalternative.”
“ItwasAmi’sidea,notmine,”Iclarify.“She’stheonewhocaresaboutyouraversiontosharingfood.”
“Idon’thaveaproblemsharingfood,”heexplains,“it’sthatbuffetsareliteralcesspoolsofbacteria.”
“Ireallyhopeyoubringthatlevelofpoetryandinsighttoyourspeech.”
Hestepsback,reachingforthedoor“TellAmimytoastishilarious,andnotatalldickish.”
Iwanttosaysomethingsassy,buttheonlycoherentthoughtthatcomestomindishowinsultingitisthateyelasheslikehiswerewastedonSatan’sErrandBoy,soIjustgiveaperfunctorynodandturndownthehall.
It’sallIcandotonotadjusttheskirtwhileIwalk.Icouldbeparanoid,butIthinkIfeelhiscriticaleyesonthetightsheenofmydresstheentirewaytotheelevators.
???
THEHOTELSTAFFHAVEREALLYtakenAmi’sChristmas-in-Januarythemeandrunwithit.Thankfully,insteadofredvelvetSantasandstuffedreindeer,thecenteraisleislinedwithfakesnow.Eventhoughit’seasilyseventy-fivedegreesinhere,thereminderofthewet,slushysnowoutsidemakestheentireroomfeelcoldanddrafty.Thealtarisdecoratedwithwhiteflowersandhollyberries,miniaturepinewreathsarehungfromthebackofeachchair,andtinywhitelightstwinklefrominsidethebranches.Intruth,it’sallverylovely,butevenfromthebackwherewe’velinedup,IcanseethelittleplacardsattachedtoeachchairencouraginggueststoTrustFinleyBridalforyourspecialday.
Theweddingpartyisrestless.Diegoispeekingintothebanquethallandreportingbackthelocationofhotmaleguests.Julesisvaliantlytryingtogetthephonenumberofoneofthegroomsmen,andMomisbusytellingCamitotellDadtomakesurehiszipperisn’tdown.Weareallwaitingforthecoordinatortogivethesignalandsendtheflowergirlsdowntheaisle.
Mydressseemstobegrowingtighterwitheachpassingsecond.
FinallyEthantakeshisspotnexttome,andwhenheholdsabreathandthenreleasesitinaslow,controlledstream,itsoundslikearesignedsigh.Withoutlookingatme,heoffershisarm.
AlthoughI’mtemptedtopretendIdon’tnotice,Itakeit,ignoringthesensationofhiscurvedbiceppassingundermyhand,ignoringthewayheflexesjustabit,grippingmyarmtohisside.
“Stillsellingdrugs?”
Iclenchmyteeth.EthanknowsdamnwellIworkedforapharmaceuticalcompany.“Youknowthat’snotwhatIdo.”
Heglancesbehindusandthenturnsbackaround,andIhearhimtakeabreathtospeak,butthenheholdsit,wordless.
Itcan’tbeaboutthesize,volume,orgeneralinsanityofourfamily—theybrokehiminlongago—butIknowsomethingisbugginghim.Iglanceupathim,waiting.“Whateveritis,justsayit.”
IswearIamnotaviolentwoman,butatthesightofhiswickedsmileaimeddownatme,theurgetodigmypointyheelintothetoeofhispolishedshoeisnearlyirresistible.
“It’ssomethingaboutthelineofSkittlebridesmaids,isn’tit?”Iask.EvenEthanhastoacknowledgethattherearesomeprettyamazingbodiesinthebridesmaidlineup,butstill,noneofuscanreallypulloffspearmint-greensatin.
“Mind-readingOliveTorres.”
Mysarcasticsmilematcheshis.“Markthemoment,people.EthanThomasrememberedmynamethreeyearsafterwefirstmet.”
Heturnshisfacebacktothefront,smoothinghisfeatures.It’salwayshardtoreconciletherestrained,bitingEthanIgetwiththecharmingoneI’vewatchedmakehiswaythrougharoom,andeventhewildoneI’veheardAmicomplainaboutforyears.IndependentofhowheseemsdeterminedtoneverrememberathingItellhim—likemyjob,ormyname—IhateknowingthatEthanisaterribleinfluenceonDane,pullinghimawayforeverythingfromwildweekendsinCaliforniatoadrenaline-soakedadventuresontheothersideoftheworld.Ofcourse,thesetripsconvenientlycoincidewitheventsdeeplycherishedbycontest-hunterssuchasmysister,hisfiancée:birthdays,anniversaries,Valentine’sDay.JustlastFebruary,forexample,whenEthanhadwhiskedDaneofftoVegasforaguys’weekend,Amiendeduptakingmetoaromantic(andfree)couple’sdinnerattheSt.PaulGrill.
I’vealwaysthoughtthebasisforEthan’scoldnesstowardmewasjustthatI’mcurvyandphysicallyrepulsiveandhe’sabigoted,garbagehuman—butitoccurstome,standinghere,holdingontohisbicep,thatmaybethat’swhyhe’ssuchanass:EthanresentsthatAmihastakensuchabigpartofhisbrother’slife,butcan’tshowthattoherfacewithoutalienatingDane.Sohetakesitoutonmeinstead.
Theepiphanywashescoolclaritythroughme.
“She’sreallygoodforhim,”Isaynow,hearingtheprotectivestrengthtomyvoice.
Ifeelhimturntolookdownatme.“What?”
“Ami,”Iclarify.“She’sreallygoodforDane.Irealizeyoufindmecompletelyoff-putting,butwhateveryourproblemiswithher,justknowthat,okay?She’sagoodsoul.”
BeforeEthancanrespond,the(free)weddingcoordinatorfinallystepsforward,wavestothe(free)musicians,andtheceremonybegins.
???
EVERYTHINGIEXPECTEDTOHAPPENhappens:Amiisgorgeous.Daneseemsmostlysoberandsincere.Ringsareexchanged,vowsarespoken,andthereisanuncomfortablyraunchykissattheend.Thatwasdefinitelynotchurchtongue,evenifthisisn’tachurch.Momcries,Dadpretendsnotto.Andthroughouttheceremony,whileIholdAmi’smassivebouquetof(free)roses,Ethanloomslikeasilentcardboardcutoutofhimself,movingonlywhenhehastoduckahandintohiscoatpockettoproducetherings.
Heoffershisarmtomeagainasweretreatdowntheaisle,andhe’sevenstifferthistime,likeI’mcoveredinslimeandhe’safraidit’sgoingtoruboffonhissuit.SoImakeapointofleaningintohimandthengivinghimamentalbird-flipwhenwe’reofftheaisle,allowedtobreakcontacttodisperseindifferentdirections.
Wehavetenminutesuntilweneedtomeetforweddingpartyphotos,andI’mgoingtousethattimetogoremovewiltedpetalsfromthedinnertableflowerarrangements.ThisSkittleisgoingtocrosssomethingsoffherlist.WhocareswhatEthanisgoingtodo?
Apparentlyhe’sgoingtofollowme.
“Whatwasallthatabout?”hesays.
Ilookovermyshoulder.
“Whatwaswhatabout?”Iask.
Henodstowardtheweddingaisle.“Backthere.Justnow.”
“Ah.”Turning,Igivehimacomfortingsmile.“I’mgladthatwhenyou’reconfused,youfeelcomfortableaskingforhelp.So:thatwasawedding—animportant,ifnotrequired,ceremonyinourculture.Yourbrotherandmy—”
“Beforetheceremony.”Hisdarkbrowsarepulleddownlow,handsshoveddeepintohistrouserpockets“WhenyousaidIfindyouoff-putting?ThatIhaveaproblemwithAmi?”
Igapeupathim.“Seriously?”
Helooksaroundus,confused.“Yeah.Seriously.”
Forabeat,Iamspeechless.ThelastthingIexpectedwasforEthantoneedsomesortofclarifyingfollow-uponourconstantwaveofsnarkycomments.
“Youknow.”Iwaveavaguehand.Underhisfocus,andawayfromtheceremonyandtheenergyinthefullroom,Iamsuddenlylessconfidentinmyearliertheory.“IthinkyouresentAmifortakingDaneawayfromyou.Butyoucan’t,like,takeitoutonherwithouthimgettingupset,soyou’reachronicdicktome.”
Whenhesimplyblinksatme,Ibarrelon:“You’veneverlikedme—andwebothknowitgoeswaypastthecheesecurds,Imeanyouwouldn’teveneatmyarrozconpolloontheFourthofJuly,whichisfine,yourloss—butjustsoyouknow,she’sgreatforhim.”Ileanin,goingforbroke.“Great.”
Ethanletsoutasingle,incredulouslaugh-breathandthensmothersitwithhishand.
“It’sjustatheory,”Ihedge.
“Atheory.”
“Aboutwhyyouclearlydon’tlikeme.”
Hisbrowcreases.“WhyIdon’tlikeyou?”
“AreyoujustgoingtorepeateverythingIsay?”IproducemylistfromwhereI’drolleditintomysmallbouquetandshakeitathim.“Becauseifyou’redone,Ihavethingstodo.”
IgetanotherfewsecondsofbewilderedsilencebeforeheseemstosurmisewhatIprobablycouldhavetoldhimagesago:“Olive.Yousoundlegitimatelyinsane.”
???
MOMPUTSAFLUTEOFchampagneinAmi’shand,anditappearstobeonsomeoneelse’sto-dolisttokeepitfilledtothebrimbecauseIseeherdrinking,butIneverseeitempty.Itmeansthatthereceptiongoesfromwhatwasarguablyaperfectlyscheduled,slightlyrigidaffair,toatruepartyNoiselevelsgofrompolitetofrathouse.Peopleswarmtheseafoodbuffetlikethey’veneverseensolidfoodbefore.Thedancinghasn’tevenstartedyet,andDanehasalreadythrownhisbowtieintoafountainandtakenhisshoesoffIt’satestamenttoAmi’sinebriationthatshedoesn’tevenseemtocare.
Bythetimethetoastsrollaround,gettingevenhalfoftheroomtoquietdownseemslikeamonumentaltask.Aftergentlytappingaforkagainstaglassafewtimesandaccomplishingnothingbywayofnoisecontrol,Ethanfinallyjustlaunchesintohistoast,whetherpeoplearelisteningornot.
“I’msuremostofyouwillhavetopeesoon,”hebegins,speakingintoagiantfuzzymicrophone,“soI’llkeepthisshort.”Eventually,thecrowdsettles,andhecontinues.“Idon’tactuallythinkDanewantsmetospeaktoday,butconsideringI’mnotonlyhisolderbrotherbutalsohisonlyfriend,hereweare.”
Shockingmyself,Iletoutadeafeningcackle.Ethanpausesandglancesoveratme,wearingasurprisedsmile.
“I’mEthan,”hecontinues,andwhenhepicksuparemotenearhisplate,aslideshowofphotosofEthanandDaneaskidsbeginsaslowscrollonascreenbehindus.“Bestbrother,bestson.Iamthrilledwecansharethisdaywithnotonlysomanyfriendsandfamily,butalsowithalcohol.Seriously,haveyoulookedatthatbar?SomeonekeepaneyeonAmi’ssisterbecausetoomanyglassesofchampagne,andthere’snowaythatdressisstayingon.”Hesmirksatme.“Youremembertheengagementparty,Olivia?Well,ifyoudon’t,Ido.”
NataliagripsmywristbeforeIcanreachforaknife.
Daneshoutsoutadrunk,“Dude!”andthenlaughsatthisanobnoxiousamount.NowIwishthattheKillingCursewereathing.(Ididn’tactuallytakemydressoffattheengagementparty,bytheway.Ijustusedthehemtowipemybrowonceortwice.Itwasahotnight,andtequilamakesmesweaty.)
“Ifyoulookatsomeofthesefamilyphotos,”Ethansays,gesturingbehindhimtowhereteenageEthanandDaneareskiing,surfing,andgenerallylookinglikegeneticallygiftedassholes,“you’llseethatIwasthequintessentialbigbrother.Iwenttocampfirst,drovefirst,lostmyvirginityfirst.Sorry,nophotosofthat.”Hewinkscharminglyatthecrowdandaflutterofgigglespassesinawavearoundtheroom.“ButDanefoundlovefirst.”Thereisaroarofcollectiveawwwsfromtheguests.“IhopeI’llbeluckyenoughtofindsomeonehalfasspectacularasAmisomeday.Don’tlethergo,Dane,becausenoneofushasanyideawhatshe’sthinking.”Hereachesforhisscotch,andnearlytwohundredotherarmsjoinhisinraisingtheirglassesinatoast.“Congrats,youtwo.Let’sdrink.”
Hesitsbackdownandglancesatme.“Wasthatsufficientlyonthecuffforyou?”
“Itwasquasi-charming.”Iglanceoverhisshoulder.“It’sstilllightout.Yourinnertrollmustbesleeping.”
“Comeon,”hesays,“youlaughed.”
“Surprisingbothofus.”
“Wellit’syourturntoshowmeup,”hesays,motioningthatIshouldstand.“It’saskingalot,buttrynottoembarrassyourself.”
Ireachformyphone,wheremyspeechissaved,andtrytohidethedefensivenessinmyvoicewhenIsay,“Shutup,Ethan,”beforestanding.
Goodone,Olive.
Helaughsasheleansintotakeabiteofhischicken.
AsmatteringofapplausecarriesacrossthebanquethallasIstandandfacetheguests.
“Hello,everyone,”Isay,andtheentireroomstartleswhenthemicrophonesquawksshrilly.Pullingthemicfartherawayfrommymouth,andwithashakysmile,Imotiontomysisterandnewbrother-in-law.“Theydidit!”
EveryonecheersasDaneandAmicometogetherforasweetkiss.IwatchedthemdanceearliertoAmi’sfavoritesong,PeterCetera’s“GloryofLove,”andmanagedtoignorethepressureofDiego’sintenseeffortstocatchmyeyeandnonverballycommiserateaboutAmi’sfamouslyterribletasteinmusic.Iwasgenuinelylostintheperfectionofthescenebeforeme:mytwininherbeautifulweddingdress,herhairsoftenedbythehoursandmovement,hersweet,happysmile.
TearsprickatmyeyesasItapthroughtomyNotesappandopenmyspeech.
“Forthoseofyouwhodon’tknowme,letmereassureyou:no,youaren’tthatdrunkyet,Iamthebride’stwinsister.MynameisOlive,notOlivia,”Isay,glancingpointedlydownatEthan.“Favoritesibling,favoritein-law.WhenAmimetDane—”IpausewhenamessagefromNataliapopsuponmyscreen,obscuringmyspeech.
FYIyourboobslookamazingupthere.
Fromtheaudience,shegivesmeathumbs-up,andIswipehermessageaway.
“—shespokeabouthiminawayIhadnever—”
Whatsizebraareyouwearingnow?
AlsofromNatalia.
Idismissitandquicklytrytofindmyplaceagain.Honestly,whosefamilytextsthemduringaspeechtheyareobviouslyreadingfromaphone?Myfamily,that’swho.
Iclearmythroat.“—Ihadneverheardbefore.Therewassomethinginhervoice—”
DoyouknowifDane’scousinissingle?Orcouldbe.??
IgiveDiegoawarninglookandaggressivelyswipebacktomyscreen.
“—somethinginhervoicethattoldmesheknewthiswasdifferent,thatshefeltdifferent.AndI—”
Stopmakingthatface.Youlookconstipated.
Mymother.Ofcourse.
Iswipeitawayandcontinue.Besideme,Ethansmuglylaceshishandstogetherbehindhishead,andIcanfeelhissatisfiedgrinwithoutevenhavingtolookathim.Ipushon—becausehecan’twinthisround—butI’monlytwowordsdeeperintomyspeechwhenI’minterruptedbythesoundofastartled,painedgroan.
TheattentionoftheentireroomswingstowhereDaneishuddledover,clutchinghisstomach.Amihasjustenoughtimetoplaceacomfortinghandonhisshoulderandturntohiminconcernbeforeheclapsahandoverhismouth,andthenproceedstoprojectile-vomitthroughhisfingers,allovermysisterandherbeautiful(free)dress.chapterthree
Dane’ssuddenillnesscan’tbefromhisalcoholintakebecauseoneofthebridesmaids’daughtersisonlyseven,andafterAmiretaliatesandthrowsupalloverDane,littleCatalinalosesherdinner,too.Fromthere,thesicknessstartstospreadlikewildfirethroughthebanquethall.
Ethanstandsanddriftsawaytohovernearoneofthewalls.Idothesame,thinkingit’sprobablybesttowatchthechaosfromhigherground.Ifthiswerehappeninginamovie,itwouldbecomicallygross.Hereinfrontofus,happeningtopeopleweknowandwhowe’veclinkedglasseswithandembracedandmaybeevenkissed?It’sterrifying.
Itgoesfromseven-year-oldCatalina,toAmi’shospitaladministratorandherwife,toJulesandCami,somepeopleinthebackattableforty-eight,thenMom,Dane’sgrandmother,theflowergirl,Dad,Diego.
Afterthat,Iamunabletotracktheoutbreak,becauseitsnowballs.Acrashofchinatearsthroughtheroomwhenaguestlosesitalloveranunluckywaiter.Afewpeopleattempttoflee,clutchingtheirstomachsandmoaningforatoilet.Whateverthisis,itappearstowanttoexitthebodythroughanyrouteavailable;I’mnotsurewhethertolaughorscream.Eventhosewhoaren’tthrowinguporsprintingfortherestroomsyetarelookinggreen.
“Yourspeechwasn’tthatbad,”Ethansays,andifIweren’tworriedhemightvomitonmeintheprocess,I’dshovehimoutofourlittlesafezone.
Withthesoundofretchingallaroundus,aheavyawarenesssettlesintoourquietspace,andweslowlyturntoeachother,eyeswide.Hecarefullyscansmyface,soIcarefullyscanhis,too.Heisnotablynormal-colored,notevenalittlegreen.
“Areyounauseated?”heasksmequietly.
“Beyondatthesightofthis?Oryou?No.”
“Impendingdiarrhea?”
Istareathim.“Howareyousingle?Frankly,it’samystery.”
Andinsteadofbeingrelievedhe’snotsick,herelaxeshisexpressionintothecockiestgrinI’veeverseen.“SoIwasrightaboutbuffetsandbacteria.”
“It’stoofasttobefoodpoisoning.”
“Notnecessarily.”Hepointstotheicetrayswheretheshrimp,clams,mackerel,grouper,andabouttenotherfancyvarietiesoffishusedtobe.“Ibetyou..”Heholdsupafingerasifhe’stestingtheair.“Ibetyouthisisciguateratoxin.”
“Ihavenoideawhatthatis.”
Hetakesadeepbreath,likehe’ssoakinginthesplendorofthemomentandcannotsmellhowripethebathroomhasgrownjustdownthehall.“Ihaveneverinmylifebeenmoresmugtobetheeternalbuffetbuzzkill.”
“Ithinkyoumean,‘Thankyouforprocuringmyplateofroastedchicken,Olive.’”
“Thankyouforprocuringmyplateofroastedchicken,Olive.”
AsrelievedasIamtonotbebarfing,Iamalsohorrified.ThiswasAmi’sdreamday.Shespentthebetterpartofthelastsixmonthsplanningthis,andthisistheweddingdayequivalentofaroadfullofadvancing,flamingzombies.
SoIdotheonlythingIcanthinktodo:Imarchovertoher,reachdowntolooponeofherarmsovermyshoulders,andhelpherup.Nooneneedstoseethebrideinastatelikethis:coveredinvomit—hersandDane’s—andclutchingherstomachlikeshemightloseitouttheotherend,too.
We’relurchingmorethanwalking—really,I’mhalfdraggingher—sowe’reonlyhalfwaytotheexitwhenIfeelthebackofmydressripwideopen.
???
ASMUCHASITPAINSmetoadmitit,Ethanwasright:theweddingpartyhasbeendemolishedbysomethingknownasciguatera,whichhappenswhenoneeatsfishcontaminatedwithcertaintoxins.Apparentlythecatererisoffthehookbecauseitisn’tafoodpreparationissue—evenifyoucookthelivingdaylightsoutofacontaminatedpieceoffish,itisstilltoxic.IcloseoutGooglewhenIreadthatthesymptomsnormallylastanywherefromweekstomonths.Thisisacatastrophe
Forobviousreasons,wecancelledthetornaboda—theenormousweddingafterpartythatwasgoingtobeheldatTiaSylvia’shouselateintothenight.Ialreadyseemyselfspendingtomorrowwrappingandfreezingtheungodlyamountoffoodwespentthelastthreedayscooking;nowaywillanyonewanttoeatforalongtimeafterthis.Afewguestsweretakentothehospital,butmosthavejustretreatedhomeortotheirhotelroomstosufferinisolation.Daneisinthegroom’ssuite;Momisnextdoorcurledoverthetoiletinthemother-in-lawsuite,andshebanishedDadtooneofthebathroomsinthelobbyShetextedmetoremindhimtotipthebathroomattendant.
Thebridalsuitehasbecomeatriageunitofsorts.Diegoisonthefloorinthelivingroom,clutchingagarbagecantohischest.NataliaandJuleseachhaveabucket—complimentsofthehotel—andarebothinthefetalpositiononoppositeendsofthelivingroomcouch.Amiwhimpersinagonyandtriestowiggleherwayoutofhercompletelysaturateddress.Ihelpherandimmediatelydecideshe’sfineinherunderwear,forawhileanyway.Atleastshe’soutofthebathroom;I’llbehonest,thenoisescomingfrominsidehadnoplaceinaweddingnight.
CarefultowatchmystepasImovearoundthesuite,Iwetwashclothsforforeheadsandattempttorubbacks,emptyingbucketsasneededandthankingtheuniverseformyconstitutionallysolidstomach.
AsIstepoutofthebathroomwithrubberglovespulleduptomyelbows,mysisterzombie-moansintoanicebucket“Youhavetotakemytrip.”
“Whattrip?”
“Thehoneymoon.”
ThesuggestionissoexceedinglyrandomthatIignoreherandgrabapillowtoputunderherheadinstead.Itisatleasttwominutesbeforeshespeaksagain.
“Takeit,Olive.”
“Ami,noway.”Herhoneymoonisanall-inclusiveten-daytriptoMauithatshewonbyfillingoutoverathousandentryforms.IknowbecauseIhelpedherputthestampsonatleasthalfofthem.
“It’snonrefundable.We’resupposedtoleavetomorrowand..”Shehastotakeabreaktodry-heave.“There’snoway.”
“I’llcallthem.I’msurethey’llworkaroundthissituation,comeon.”
SheshakesherheadandthenhurlsupthewaterImadehersip.Whenshespeaks,shesoundsfroggy,likeshe’sthevictimofademonpossession.“Theywon’t.”
Mypoorsisterhasturnedintoaswampcreature;I’veneverseenanyonethisshadeofgraybefore.
“Theydon’tcareaboutillnessorinjury,it’sinthecontract.”Shefallsbackontothefloorandstaresupattheceiling.
“Whyareyouevenworriedaboutthisrightnow?”Iask,thoughinrealityIknowtheanswer.Iadoremysister,butevenviolentillnesswon’tgetbetweenherandredeemingaprizefairlywon.
“YoucanusemyIDtocheckin,”shesays.“Justpretendyou’reme.”
“AmiTorres,that’sillegal!”
Rollingherheadsoshecanseeme,shegivesmealooksocomicallyblank,Ihavetostiflealaugh.
“Okay,Irealizeitisn’tyourpriorityrightnow,”Isay.
“Itis,though.”Shestrugglestositup.“Iwillbesostressedoutaboutthisifyoudon’ttakeit.”
Istareather,andconflictmakesmywordscomeouttangledandthick.“Idon’twanttoleaveyou.AndIalsodon’twanttobearrestedforfraud.”Icantellsheisn’tgoingtoletthisgo.Finally,Igivein.“Okay.JustletmecallthemandseewhatIcando.”
Twentyminuteslater,andIknowshe’sright:thecustomerservicerepresentativeforAlineVoyageVacationsgiveszerodamnsaboutmysister’sbowelsoresophagus.AccordingtoGoogleandaphysicianthehotelcalledinwhoisslowlymakingtheroundstoeachguestroom,Amiisunlikelytorecoverbynextweek,letalonetomorrow.
Ifsheorherdesignatedguestdoesn’ttakethetrip,it’sgone.
“I’msorry,Ami.Thisfeelsmonumentallyunfair,”Isay
“Look,”shebegins,andthendry-heavesafewtimes,“considerthisthemomentyourluckchanges.”
“TwohundredpeoplethrewupduringOlive’sspeech,”Diegoremindsusallfromthefloor.
Amimanagestopushherselfup,supportingherselfagainstthecouch.“I’mserious.Youshouldgo,Ollie.Youdidn’tgetsick.Youneedtocelebratethat.”
Somethinginsideme,atinykernelofsunshine,peeksoutfrombehindacloud,andthendisappearsagain.
“Iliketheideaofgoodluckbetterwhenitisn’tatsomeoneelse’sexpense,”Itellher.
“Unfortunately,”Amisays,“youdon’tgettochoosethecircumstances.That’sthepointofluck:ithappenswhenandwhereithappens.”
Ifetchheranewcupofwaterandafreshwashclothandthencrouchdownbesideher.“I’llthinkaboutit,”Isay.
Butintruth,whenIlookatherlikethis—green,clammy,helpless—IknowthatnotonlyamInottakingherdreamvacation,I’mnotleavingherside.
???
ISTEPOUTINTOTHEhallbeforerememberingthatmydresshasanenormoustearalldowntheback.Myassisliterallyhangingout.Ontheplusside,it’ssuddenlylooseenoughthatIcancovermyboobs.Turningbacktothesuite,Iswipethekeycardagainstthedoor,butthelockflashesred.
IgototryagainandthevoiceofSatanringsoutfrombehindme.“Youhaveto—”Animpatienthuff.“No,letmeshowyou.”
ThereisnothingintheworldIwantedlessinthismomentthanforEthantoshowup,readytomansplainhowtoswipeahotelkey.
HetakesthecardfrommeandholdsitagainsttheblackcircleonthedoorIstareathimindisbelief,hearthelockdisengage,andbegintosarcasticallythankhim,buthe’salreadypreoccupiedwiththeviewofmytanSpanx.
“Yourdressripped,”hesayshelpfully.
“Youhavespinachinyourteeth.”
Hedoesn’t,butatleastitdistractshimenoughthatIcanescapebackintotheroomandclosethedoorinhisface.
Unfortunately,heknocks.
“Justasecond,Ineedtogetsomeclotheson.”
Hisreplyisalazydrawlthroughthedoor:“Whystartnow?”
Awarethatnooneelseinthesuiteisremotelyinterestedinwatchingmechange,ItossmydressandSpanxontothecouchandreachformyunderwearandapairofjeansinmybag,hoppingintothem.TuggingonaT-shirt,Imovetothedoorandopenitonlyacracksohecan’tseeAmiinside,curledintoaballinherlacyweddingunderwear.
“Whatdoyouwant?”
Hefrowns.“IneedtotalktoAmirealquick.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Well,I’mgoingtohavetodo,becausemysisterisbarelyconscious.”
“Thenwhyareyouleavingher?”
“Foryourinformation,IwasheadeddownstairstolookforGatorade,”Isay.“Whyaren’tyouwithDane?”
“Becausehehasn’tleftthetoiletintwohours.”
Gross.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“Ineedtheinfoforthehoneymoon.Danetoldmetocallandseeiftheycangetitmoved.”
“Theycan’t,”Itellhim.“Ialreadycalled.”
“Okay.”Heexhaleslongandslow,clawingahandthroughhairthatisthickandlusciousfornogoodreason.“Inthatcase,ItoldhimI’dgo.”
Iactuallybarkoutalaugh.“Wow,thatissogenerousofyou.”
“What?Heofferedittome.”
Istraightentomyfullheight.“Unfortunately,you’renotherdesignatedguest.”
“SheonlyhadtogivehislastnameIncidentally,it’sthesameasmine.”
Damnit.“Well.Amiofferedittome,too.”I’mnotplanningontakingthetrip,butI’llbedamnedifEthanisgettingit.
Heblinkstothesideandthenbacktome.I’veseenEthanThomasblinkthoselashesandusethatdangerouslyunevensmiletosweet-talkTíaMaríaintobringinghimfreshlymadetamales.Iknowhecancharmwhenhewants.Clearlyhedoesn’twantrightnow,becausehistonecomesoutflat:“Olive,IhavevacationtimeIneedtotake.”
Andnowthefireisrisinginme.Whydoeshethinkhedeservesthis?Didhehaveaseventy-four-itemweddingto-dolistonfancystationery?No,hedidnot.Andcometothinkofit,thatspeechofhiswaslukewarm.BethewroteitinthegroomsuitewhilehewaschuggingbackaplasticpitcherofwarmBudweiser.
“Well,”Isay,“I’munemployedagainstmywill,soIthinkIprobablyneedthevacationmorethanyoudo.”
Thefrowndeepens.“Thatmakesnosense.”Hepauses.“Wait.YouwerelaidofffromBukkake?”
Iscowlathim.“It’sButake,dumb-ass,andyes.Iwaslaidofftwomonthsago.I’msurethatgivesyouimmeasurablethrill.”
“Alittle.”
“YouareVoldemort.”
Ethanshrugsandthenreachesup,scratchinghisjaw.“Isupposewecouldbothgo.”
InarrowmyeyesandhopeIdon’tlooklikeIammentallydiagramminghissentence,eventhoughIam.Itsoundedlikehesuggestedwego.
“Ontheirhoneymoon?”Iaskincredulously.
Henods.
“Together?”
Henodsagain.
“Areyouhigh?”
“Notpresently.”
“Ethan,wecanbarelystandtositnexttoeachotheratanhourlongmeal.”
“FromwhatIgather,”hesays,“theywonasuite.It’llbehuge.Wewon’tevenreallyhavetoseeeachother.Thisvacationispacked:zip-lining,snorkeling,hikes,surfing.Comeon.Wecanorbitaroundeachotherfortendayswithoutcommittingaviolentfelony.”
Frominsidethebridalsuite,Amigroansoutalow,gravelly“Gooooo,Olive.”
Iturntoher.“But—it’sEthan.”
“Shit,”Diegomumbles,“ifIcantakethisgarbagecanwithme,I’llgo.”
Inmyperipheralvision,Amiliftsasallowarm,wavingit.“Ethan’snotthatbad.”
Isn’the,though?Ilookbackathim,sizinghimup.Tootall,toofit,tooclassicallypretty.Neverfriendly,nevertrustworthy,neveranyfun.Heputsonaninnocentsmile—innocentonthesurface:aflashofteeth,adimple,butinhiseyes,it’sallblack-souled.
ButthenIthinkofMaui:crashingsurf,pineapple,cocktails,andsunshine.Oh,sunshine.Aglanceoutthewindowshowsonlyblackness,butIknowthecoldthatliesoutthere.Iknowthecar-grime-yellowedsnowliningthestreets.IknowthedaysthataresocoldmywethairwouldfreezeifIdidn’tcompletelydryitbeforeleavingtheapartmentIknowthatbythetimeAprilcomesanditstillisn’tconsistentlywarm,Iwillbehunchedoverandresigned,Skeksis-like.
“Whetheryou’recomingornot,”hesays,cuttingintomyrapidspiraldownthementaldrainpipe,“I’mgoingtoMaui.”Heleansin.“AndI’mgoingtohavethebestfuckingtimeofmylife.”
IlookbackovermyshoulderatAmi,whonodsencouragingly—albeitslowly—andafireignitesinmychestatthethoughtofbeinghere,surroundedbysnow,andthesmellofvomit,andthebleaklandscapeofunemploymentwhileEthanislyingpoolsidewithacocktailinhishand.
“Fine,”Itellhim,andthenleanforwardtopressafingerintohischest.“I’mtakingAmi’sspot.Butyoukeeptoyourspace,andI’llkeeptomine.”
Hesalutesme.“Iwouldn’thaveitanyotherway.”chapterfour
TurnsoutI’mwillingtotakemysick-sister’sdreamhoneymoon,butIhavetodrawalineatairlinefraud.BecauseIamessentiallybroke,findingalast-minuteflightfromthefreezingtundratoMauiinJanuary—atleastonethatIcanafford—requiressomecreativity.Ethanisnohelpatall,probablybecausehe’soneofthosehighlyevolvedthirtysomethingguyswhohasanactualsavingsaccountandneverhastodiginhiscar’sashtrayforchangeatthedrive-through.Mustbenice.
Butwedoagreethatweneedtotraveltogether.AsmuchasI’dliketoditchhimassoonaspossible,thetravelcompanydidmakeitabundantlyclearthatifthereisanyfraudafoot,wewillbechargedthefullbalanceofthevacationpackage.It’seithertheproximityofprobablevomitortheproximityofmethatsendshimhalfwaydownthehalltowardhisownroomwithamuttered“JustletmeknowwhatIoweyou,”beforeIcanwarnhimexactlyhowlittlethatmightbe.
Fortunately,mysistertaughtmewell,andintheendIhavetwo(socheapthey’repracticallyfree)ticketstoHawaii.I’mnotsurewhythey’resocheap,butItrynottothinktoomuchaboutit.Aplaneisaplane,andgettingtoMauiisallthatreallymatters,right?
It’llbefine.
???
SOMAYBETHRIFTYJETISN’Ttheflashiestairline,butit’snotthatbadandcertainlydoesn’twarranttheconstantfidgetingandbarrageofheavysighsfromthemansittingnexttome.
“YouknowIcanhearyou,right?”
Ethanisquietforamomentbeforeheturnsanotherpageinhismagazine.HeslideshiseyestomeinasilentIcan’tbelieveIputyouinchargeofthis.
I’mnotsureI’veeverseenanyoneaggressivelyflipthroughacopyofKnittingWorldbeforenow.It’sanicetouchtokeepmagazinesintheterminallikewe’reatthegynecologist’soffice,butit’salittledisconcertingthatthisoneisfrom2007.
Itampdowntheever-presenturgetoreachoverandflickhisear.We’resupposedtopassasnewlywedsonthistrip;mightaswellstarttryingtofakeitnow.“So,justtoclosethelooponthisstupidsquabble,”Isay,“ifyouweregoingtohavesuchastrongopinionaboutourflights,youshouldn’thavetoldmetotakecareofit.”
“IfIknewyouweregoingtobookusonaGreyhoundwithwings,Iwouldn’thave.”Helooksup,andglancesaroundinhorrifiedwonder.“Ididn’tevenknowthispartoftheairportexisted.”
Irollmyeyesandthenmeetthegazeofthewomansittingacrossfromus,whoisclearlyeavesdropping.Loweringmyvoice,Ileaninwithasaccharinesmile.“IfIknewyouweregoingtobesuchanitpicker,Iwouldhavehappilytoldyoutoshoveitandgetyourowndamnticket.”
“Nitpick?”EthanpointstowheretheplaneisparkedoutsidewhatIthinkisaplexiglasswindow.“Haveyouseenouraircraft?I’llbeamazediftheydon’taskustopitchinforfuel.”
ItakethemagazinefromhishandandscananarticleonSummerSherbetTopsandCoolCottonCablePullovers!“NobodyisforcingyoutotakeafreedreamtriptoMaui,”Isay.“Andfortherecord,notallofuscanbuyexpensivesame-dayairplanetickets.ItoldyouIwasonabudget.”
Hesnorts.“IfI’dknownwhatkindofbudgetyoumeant,Iwouldhaveloanedyouthecost.”
“Andtakemoneyfromyoursexualcompanionfund?”Ipressahorrifiedhandtomychest.“Iwouldn’tdare.”
Ethantakesthemagazineback.“Look,Olivia.I’mjustsittingherereading.Ifyouwanttobicker,goupthereandaskthegateagentstomoveustofirstclass.”
Imoveintoaskhowit’spossiblethathe’sheadedtoMauiandyetsomehowevenmoreunpleasantthanusualwhenmyphonevibratesinmypocket.It’smostlikelyoneofthefollowing:A)Amiwithavomitupdate,B)AmicallingtoremindmeaboutsomethingI’veforgottenanddon’thavetimetogetnowanyway,C)oneofmycousinswithgossip,orD)MomwantingmetoaskDadsomething,ortellDadsomething,orcallDadsomething.Asunpleasantasallofthesepossibilitiessound,I’dstillratherlistentoanyofthemthanhaveaconversationwithEthanThomas.
Holdingupmyphone,Istandwitha“Letmeknowifweboard,”andgetnothingbutanoncommittalgruntinreturn.
Thephoneringsagainbutit’snotmysisteronthescreen,it’sanunfamiliarnumberwithaSt.Paulareacode.“Hello?”
“I’mcallingforOliveTorres?”
“ThisisOlive.”
“ThisisKaseyHugh,humanresourcesatHamiltonBiosciences.Howareyou?”
MyheartburstsintoagallopasImentallyflipthroughthedozensofinterviewsI’vehadinthepasttwomonthsTheywereallformedical-scienceliaisonpositions(afancytermforthescientistswhomeetwithphysicianstospeakmoretechnicallythansalesfolkcanaboutvariousdrugsonthemarket),buttheoneatHamiltonwasatthetopofmylistbecauseofthecompany’sfluvaccinefocus.Mybackgroundisvirology,andnothavingtolearnanentirelynewbiologicalsysteminamatterofweeksisalwaysabonus.
Buttobefrank,atthispointIwasreadytoapplytoHootersifthat’swhatitwouldtaketocoverrent.
Withthephonepressedtomyear,IcrosstoaquietersideoftheterminalandtrynottosoundasdesperateasI’mfeeling.Afterthebridesmaiddressfiasco,IamfarmorerealisticaboutmyabilitytopullofftheorangeHootersshortsandshimmerypantyhose.
“I’mdoingwell,”Isay.“Thanksforasking.”
“I’mcallingbecauseafterconsideringalltheapplicantsfortheposition,Mr.Hamiltonwouldliketoofferyouthemedicalscientistliaisonposition.Areyoustillinterested?”
Iturnonmyheel,lookingbacktowardEthanasifthesheerawesomenessofthesewordsisenoughtosetoffaflaregunofjoyovermyhead.He’sstillfrowningdownathisknittingmagazine.
“OhmyGod,”Isay,freehandflappinginfrontofmyface.“Yes!Absolutely!”
Apaycheck!Steadyincome!Beingabletosleepatnightwithoutfearofimpendinghomelessness!
“Doyouknowwhenyoucanstart?”sheasks.“IhaveamemoherefromMr.Hamiltonthatreads,‘Thesooner,thebetter.’”
“Start?”Iwince,lookingaroundmeatallthecheapotravelerswearingplasticleisandHawaiianprintshirts.“Soon!Now.Exceptnotnownow.Notforaweek.Tendays,actually.Icanstartintendays.Ihave..”Anannouncementplaysoverhead,andIlooktoseeEthanstand.Withafrown,hegesturestowherepeoplearestartingtolineup.Mybraingoesintoexcitement-chaosoverdrive.“Wejusthadafamilythingand—also,Ineedtoseeasickrelative,and—”
“That’sfine,Olive,”shesayscalmly,mercifullycuttingmeoff.Isqueezemyforehead,wincingatmystupidlyingbabble.“It’sjustaftertheholidaysandeveryoneisstillcrazy.I’llputyoudownforatentativestartdateofMonday,Januarytwenty-first?Doesthatworkforyou?”
IexhaleforwhatfeelslikethefirsttimesinceIansweredthephone.“Thatwouldbeperfect.”
“Great,”Kaseysays.“Expectanemailsoonwithanofferletter,alongwithsomepaperworkwe’llneedyoutosignASAPifyouchoosetoofficiallyaccept.Adigitalorscannedsignatureisfine.WelcometoHamiltonBiosciences.Congratulations,Olive.”
IwalkbacktoEthaninadaze.
“Finally,”hesays,withhiscarry-onslungoveroneshoulderandmineovertheother.“We’rethelastgrouptoboard.IthoughtIwasgoingto—”Hestops,eyesnarrowingastheymakeacircuitofmyface.“Areyouokay?Youlook.smiling.”
Myphonecallisstillplayingonaloopinmyears.IwanttocheckmycallhistoryandhitredialjusttomakesureKaseyhadtherightOliveTorres.Iwassavedfromterriblefoodpoisoning,managedtosnagafreevacation,andwasofferedajobinasingletwenty-four-hourspan?Thissortofstringofluckdoesn’thappentome.Whatisgoingon?
EthansnapshisfingersandIstartletofindhimleaningin,lookinglikehewisheshehadasticktopokemewith.“Everythingokaythere?Changeofplans,or—?”
“Igotajob.”
Itseemstotakeamomentformywordstosinkin.“Justnow?”
“Iinterviewedacoupleweeksago.IstartafterHawaii.”
IexpecthimtolookvisiblydisappointedthatI’mnotbackingoutofthistrip.Insteadheliftshisbrowsandoffersaquiet“That’sgreat,Olive.Congratulations,”beforeherdingmetowardthelineofpeopleboarding.
I’msurprisedhedidn’taskmewhetherIwouldbejoiningtheirjanitorialteam,oratleastsayhehopesmynewjobsellingherointoat-riskchildrentreatsmewell.Ididnotexpectsincere.I’mneveronthereceivingendofhischarm,evenifthecharmjustnowwasdiluted;IknowhowtohandleSincereEthanaboutaswellasIwouldknowhowtohandleahungrybear.
“Uh,thanks.”
IquicklytextDiego,Ami,andmyparents—separately,ofcourse—toletthemknowthegoodnews,andthenwe’restandingatthethresholdtotheJetway,handingoverourboardingpasses.Realitysinksinandblendswithjoy:Withthejobstressalleviated,IcanreallyleavetheTwinCitiesfortendays.Icantreatthistriplikeanactualvacationonatropicalisland.
Yes,it’swithmynemesis,butstill,I’lltakeit.
???
THEJETWAYISLITTLEMOREthanaricketybridgethatleadsfromourdinkyterminaltotheevendinkierplane.Thelinemovesslowlyasthepeopleaheadofustrytoshovetheiroversizebagsintotheminiatureoverheadcompartments.WithAmi,Iwouldturnandaskwhypeopledon’tsimplychecktheirbagssowecangetinandoutontime,butEthanhasmanagedtogoafullfiveminuteswithoutfindingsomethingtocomplainabout.I’mnotgoingtogivehimanybait.
Weclimbintoourseats;theplaneissonarrowthat,ineachrow,thereareonlytwoseatsoneachsideoftheaisle.They’resoclosetogether,though,they’reessentiallyonebenchwithaflimsyarmrestbetweenthem.Ethanisplasteredagainstmyside.IhavetoaskhimtoleanupontoonebuttcheeksoIcanlocatetheotherhalfofmyseatbelt.Afterthedisconcertinglygravellyclickofmetalintometal,hestraightensandweregisterinunisonthatwe’retouchingfromshouldertothigh,separatedonlybyahard,immobilearmrestmidwaydown.
Helooksovertheheadsofthepeopleinfrontofus.“Idon’ttrustthisplane.”Helooksbackdowntheaisle.“Orthecrew.Wasthepilotwearingaparachute?”
Ethanisalways—annoyingly—theepitomeofcool,calm,andcollected,butnowthatI’mpayingattentionIseethathisshouldersaretense,andhisfacehasgonepale.Ithinkhe’ssweating.He’sscared,Irealize,andsuddenlyhismoodattheairportmakesalotmoresense.
AsIwatch,hepullsapennyfromhispocketandsmoothsathumboverit.
“What’sthat?”
“Apenny.”
Mygoodness,thisisdelightful.“Youmeanlikeagoodluckpenny?”
Withascowl,heslipsitbackintohispocket.
“IneverthoughtIhadgoodluck,”Itellhim,feelingmagnanimous,“butlook.Myallergykeptmefromeatingthebuffet,I’mgoingtoMaui,andIgotajobWouldn’titbehilarious”—Ilaughandrollmyheadinhisdirection—“tohaveastreakofgoodluckforthefirsttimeinmylife,onlytogodowninafieryplanecrash?”
Judgingbyhisexpression,Ethandoesnotseethehumoratall.Whenamemberoftheflightcrewwalksby,heshootsanarmoutinfrontofme,stoppingher.
“Excuseme,canyoutellmehowmanymilesareonthisplane?”
Theflightattendantsmiles.“Aircraftdon’thavemiles.Theyhaveflighthours.”
IcanseeEthanswallowingdownhisimpatience.“Okay,thenhowmanyflighthoursareonthisplane?”
Shetiltsherhead,understandablypuzzledbyhisquestion.“I’dhavetoaskthecaptain,sir.”
EthanleansacrossmetogetcloserandIpushbackintomyseat,scrunchingmynoseagainsttheobnoxiouslypleasantsmellofhissoap.
“Andwhatdowethinkofthecaptain?Competent?Trustworthy?”Ethanwinks,andIrealizehe’snolessanxiousthanhewasaminuteago,buthe’scopingviaflirtation.“Well-rested?”
“CaptainBlakeisagreatpilot,”shesays,tiltingherheadandsmiling.
IlookbackandforthbetweenthetwoofthemanddramaticallyfidgetwiththegoldweddingbandIborrowedfromTiaSylvia.Noonenotices.
Ethangivesherasmile—andwow,hecouldprobablyaskherforhersocialsecuritynumber,amajorcreditcard,andtobearhischildren,andshe’dsayyes.“Ofcourse,”hesays.“Imeanit’snotlikehe’severcrashedaplaneoranything.Right?”
“Justtheonce,”shesays,beforestraighteningwithawinkofherownandcontinuingondowntheaisle.
???
FORTHENEXTHOUR,ETHANbarelymoves,doesn’tspeak,andholdshimselfasifbreathingtoohardorsomehowjostlingtheplanewillmakeitfalloutofthesky.IreachformyiPadbeforerealizingthatofcoursewedon’thaveWi-Fi.Iopenabook,hopingtogetlostinsomedeliciousparanormalfun,butcan’tseemtofocus.
“Aneight-hourflight,andthere’snomovie,”Isaytomyself,glaringatthescreenlessseatbackinfrontofme.
“Maybethey’rehopingyourlifeflashinginfrontofyoureyeswillbedistractionenough.”
“Itlives.”Iturnandlookathim.“Won’tspeakingupsetthebarometricpressureinthecabinorsomething?”
Reachingintohispocket,hepullsoutthepennyagain.“Ihaven’truleditout.”
Wehaven’tspentmuchtimetogether,butfromstoriesI’veheardfrombothDaneandAmi,IfeellikeI’vebuiltaprettyaccuratepictureofEthaninmyhead.Daredevil,adventurehound,ambitious,cutthroat.
Themanclingingtothearmrestasifhisverylifedependsonitis.notthatguy.
Withadeepbreath,herollshisshoulders,grimacing.I’mfivefootfourandmildlyuncomfortable.Ethan’slegshavetobeatleasttenfeetlong;Ican’timaginewhatit’slikeforhim.Afterhespeaks,it’slikethestillnessspellhasbroken:hiskneebounceswithnervousenergy,hisfingerstapagainstthedrinktrayuntileventhesweetoldladywearingaDay-Glomuumuuinfrontofusisgivinghimadirtylook.Hesmilesinapology.
“Tellmeaboutthatluckypennyofyours,”Isay,motioningtothecoinstillclutchedinhisfist.“Whydoyouthinkit’slucky?”
Heseemstointernallyweightheriskofinteractingwithmeagainstthepotentialreliefofdistraction.
“Idon’treallywanttoencourageconversation,”hesays,“butwhatdoyousee?”Heopenshispalm.
“It’sfrom1955,”Inote.
“Whatelse?”
Ilookcloser.“Oh.youmeanhowtheletteringisdoubled?”
Heleansin,pointing.“Youcanreallyseeitrighthere,aboveLincoln’shead.”Sureenough,thelettersthatreadINGODWETRUSThavebeenstampedtwice.
“I’veneverseenanythinglikethatbefore,”Iadmit.
“There’sonlyafewofthemoutthere.”Herubshisthumboverthesurfaceandslipsitbackintohispocket.
“Isitvaluable?”Iask.
“Worthaboutathousanddollars.”
“Holyshit!”Igasp.
Wehitsomemildturbulence,andEthan’seyesmovewildlyaroundtheplaneasiftheoxygenmasksmightdeployatanymoment.
Hopingtodistracthimagain,Iask,“Wheredidyougetit?”
“Iboughtabananajustbeforeajobinterview,anditwaspartofmychange.”
“And?”
“AndnotonlydidIgetthejob,butwhenIwenttohavesomecoinsrolledthemachinespitthepennyoutbecauseitthoughtitwasafake.I’vecarrieditaroundeversince.”
“Don’tyouworryyou’regoingtodropit?”
“That’sthewholepointofluck,isn’tit?”hesaysthroughgrittedteeth.“Youhavetotrustthatit’snotfleeting.”
“Areyoutrustingthatrightnow?”
Hetriestorelax,shakingouthishands.IfI’mreadinghisexpressioncorrectly,he’sregrettingtellingmeanythingButtheturbulenceintensifies,andallsix-plusfeetofhimstiffenagain.
“Youknow,”Isay,“youdon’tstrikemeassomeonewho’dbeafraidofflying.”
Hetakesaseriesofdeepbreaths.“I’mnot.”
Thisdoesn’treallyrequireanysortofrebuttal.ThewayIhavetopryhisfingersfrommysideofthearmrestcommunicatesitplainly.
Ethanrelents.“It’snotmyfavorite.”
IthinkoftheweekendsIspentwithAmibecauseDanewasoffonsomewildadventurewithhisbrother,alltheargumentsthosetripscaused.“Aren’tyousupposedtobelike,BearGryllsorsomething?”
Helooksatme,frowning.“Who?”
“ThetriptoNewZealand.Theriverrafting,death-defyingbrotrip?SurfinginNicaragua?Youflyforfunallthetime.”
Herestshisheadbackagainsttheseatandcloseshiseyesagain,ignoringme.
Asthesqueakywheelsofthebeveragecartmaketheirwaydowntheaisle,Ethancrowdsintomyspaceagain,flaggingdowntheflightattendant.“CanIgetascotchandsoda?”Heglancesatmeandamendshisorder.“Two,actually.”
Iwavehimoff.“Idon’tlikescotch.”
Heblinks.“Iknow.”
“Actually,wedon’thavescotch,”shesays.
“Aginandtonic?”
Shewinces.
Hisshouldersslump.“Abeer?”
“That,Ihave.”Shereachesintoadrawerandhandshimtwocansofgeneric-lookingbeer.“That’stwenty-twodollars.”
“Twenty-twoAmericandollars?”
“WealsohaveCokeproducts.They’refree.”Hemovestohandbackthecans.“Butifyou’dlikeicethat’stwodollars.”
“Wait,”Isay,andreachintomybag.
“You’renotbuyingmybeer,Olive.”
“You’reright,I’mnot.”Ipullouttwocouponsandhandthemover.“Amiis.”
“Ofcoursesheis.”
Theflightattendantcontinuesondowntheaisle.
“Somerespect,please,”Isay.“Mysister’sobsessiveneedtogetthingsforfreeiswhywe’rehere.”
“Andwhytwohundredofourfriendsandfamilywereintheemergencyroom.”
Ifeelaprotectiveitchformysister.“Thepolicealreadysaidshewasn’tresponsible.”
Hecrackshisbeeropenwithasatisfyingpop.“Andthesixo’clocknews.”
Imeantoglare,butammomentarilydistractedbythewayhisAdam’sapplemovesashedrinks.
“Idon’tknowwhyI’msurprised,”hesays.“Itwasdoomedanyway.”
Theitchflarestoafull-onblaze.“Hello,Ethan,that’syourbrotherandsister-in—”
“Calmdown,Olive.Idon’tmeanthem.”HetakesanothergulpandIstare.“Imeantweddingsingeneral.”Heshuddersandanoteofrevulsioncoatsthenextword:“Romance.”
Oh,he’soneofthose.
Iadmitmyparentalmodelofromancehasbeenlacking,butTíoOmarandTíaSylviahavebeenmarriedforforty-fiveyears,TíoHugoandTíaMariahavebeenmarriedfornearlythirty.Ihaveexamplesoflastingrelationshipsallaroundme,soIknowtheyexist—evenifIsuspecttheymightnotexistforme.IwanttobelievethatAmihasn’tstartedsomethingdoomed,thatshecanbetrulyhappywithDane.
Ethandrainsatleasthalfofthefirstbeerinalongchug,andItrytopiecetogethertheextentofmyEthanknowledge.He’sthirty-four,twoyearsolderthanusandDane.Hedoessomesortof.maththingforaliving,whichexplainswhyhe’ssuchalaughaminute.Hecarriesatleastoneformofpersonaldisinfectantonhispersonatalltimes,andhewon’teatatbuffets.Ithinkhewassinglewhenwemet,butnotlongafterheenteredintoarelationshipthatseemedatleastsemiseriousIdon’tthinkhisbrotherlikedherbecauseIdistinctlyrecallDanerantingonenightabouthowmuchitwouldsuckifEthanproposedtoher.
OhmyGod,amIgoingtoMauiwithsomeone’sfiancé?
“You’renotdatinganyonenow,right?”Iask.“Whatwashername.SierraorSimbaorsomething?”
“Simba?”Healmostcracksasmile.Almost.
“Nodoubtitshocksyouwhensomeonedoesn’tkeepclosetrackofyourlovelife.”
Hisforeheadscrunchesupinafrown“Iwouldn’tgoonafakehoneymoonwithyouifIhadagirlfriend.”Sinkingbackinhisseat,hecloseshiseyesagain.“Nomoretalking.You’reright,itshakestheplane.”
???
WITHLEISAROUNDOURNECKSandtheheavyoceanairadheringourclothingtoourskin,wecatchacabjustoutsidetheairport.Ispendmostoftheridewithmyfacepressedtothewindow,takinginthebrightblueskyandtheglimpsesofoceanvisiblethroughthetrees.Icanalreadyfeelmyhairfrizzinginthehumidity,butit’sworthit.Mauiisstunning.Ethanisquietbesideme,watchingtheviewandoccasionallytappingsomethingintohisphone.Notwantingtodisturbthepeace,Isnapafewblurryphotosaswedrivedownthetwo-lanehighwayandsendthemtoAmi.Shereplieswithasimpleemoji.
Iknow.I’msorry.
Don’tbesorry.
Imean,IhaveMomwithmefortheforeseeablefuture.Who’stherealwinnerhere?
EnjoyyourselforI’llkickyourass.
Mypoorsister.It’struethatI’dratherbeherewithAmior.anyoneelse,forthatmatter,butwe’rehereandI’mdeterminedtomakethemostofit.Ihavetenbeautiful,sun-drencheddaysaheadofme.
Whenthetaxislowsandmakesafinalrightturn,thehotelgroundsseemtounfurlinfrontofus.Thebuildingismassive:atoweringtieredstructureofglass,balconies,andgreeneryspillingeverywhere.Theoceancrashesrightthere,soclosethatsomeonestandingononeofthehigherfloorscouldprobablythrowarockandmakeitintothesurf.
Wedrivedownawidelanelinedonbothsideswithfull-grownbanyantrees.Hundredsoflanternsswayinthebreeze,suspendedfrombranchesoverhead.Ifit’sthisgorgeousduringtheday,Ican’timaginethesightoncethesungoesdown.
Musicfiltersthroughspeakershiddeninthethickfoliage,andnexttomeevenEthanissittingforward,eyestrainedonthegroundsaswepass.
Wecometoastop,andtwovaletattendantsappearoutofnowhere.Weclimbout,stumblingabitaswelookaround,eyesmeetingovertheroofofthecar.Itsmellslikeplumeria,andthesoundofthewavescrashingnearlydrownsoutthesoundofenginesidlingatthevalet.I’mprettysureEthanandIhavereachedourfirst,enthusiasticconsensus:Holyshit.Thisplaceisamazing.
I’vebeensodistractedthatIstartlewhenthefirstvaletpullsoutahandfulofluggagetagsandasksformyname.
“Myname?”
Thevaletsmiles.“Fortheluggage.”
“Theluggage.Right.Myname.Myname,is—well,it’safunnystory—”
Ethanroundsthecarandimmediatelytakesmyhand.“Torres,”hesays.“AmiTorres-soon-to-be-Thomas,andhusband.”Heleansin,pressingastiffkisstothesideofmyheadforrealism.“She’sabitwipedfromthetrip.”
Stunned,Iwatchasheturnsbacktothevaletandlookslikehe’sresistingtheurgetowipehislipswithhishand.
“Perfect,”theattendantsays,scribblingthenameonafewofthetagsandattachingthemtothehandlesofourluggage.“Check-inisthroughthosedoorsthere.”Hesmilesandpointstoanopen-airlobby.“Yourbagswillbebroughtuptoyourroom.”
“Thankyou.”Ethanpressesafewfoldedbillsintothevalet’spalmandsteersmetowardthehotel.“Smooth,”hesaysassoonaswe’reoutofearshot.
“Ethan,I’materribleliar.”
“Really?Youhiditsowell.”
“It’sneverbeenmystrength,okay?Thoseofuswhoaren’tsummonedbytheDarkMarkconsiderhonestytobeavirtue.”
Hecurlshisfingerstowardhispalm,beckoning.“GivemebothIDs—yoursandAmi’s—soyoudon’taccidentallyhandthemthewrongoneatthefrontdesk.I’llputmycreditcarddownforincidentals,andwe’llsquareituplater.”
Anargumentbubblesupinmychest,buthehasapoint.Evennow,withabitofmentalrehearsal,Iamsurethenexttimesomeoneasksmyname,Iwillshout,“IAMNAMEDAMI.”Betterthannearlyspillingourentirecoverstorytoavaletattendant,butnotbymuch.
IreachintomypurseformywalletandpulloutbothIDs.“Butputtheminthesafewhenwe’reintheroom.”
Heslipstheminhiswalletnexttohisown.“Letmedothetalkingatreception.FromwhatDanetoldme,therulesofthisvacationarereallystrict,andevenjustlookingatyou,Icantellyou’relyingaboutsomething.”
Iscrunchmyface,andthenfrownandsmileinquicksuccessiontotrytoclearit.
Ethanwatches,expressionmildlyhorrified.“Getittogether,Olive.I’msureitwasonmybucketlistatsomepoint,butIdon’treallywanttosleeponthebeachtonight.”
“MeleKalikimaka”playsquietlyoverheadasweenterthehotel.Holidayfestivitylingerspost–NewYears:massiveChristmastreesflanktheentrancetothelobby,theirbranchesdrippingwithtwinklinglightsandtheweightofhundredsofredandgoldornaments.Gauzygarlandsandmoreornamentshangfromtheceiling,wraparoundcolumns,andsitinbasketsandbowlsdecoratingeveryflatsurface.Waterfromagiantfountainsplashesintoapoolbelowandthescentsofplumeriaandchlorineintermingleinthehumidair.
We’regreetedalmostimmediately.MystomachtwistsandmysmileistoobrightasabeautifulPolynesianwomantakesAmi’sIDandEthan’screditcard
Sheentersthenameandsmiles.“Congratulationsonwinningthesweepstakes.”
“Ilovesweepstakes!”Isay,toobrightly,andEthanelbowsmeintheside.
Andthen,hereyeslingeronAmi’sphotoamomentbeforeslowlyblinkinguptome.
“I’veputonalittleweight,”Iblurt.
Becausethereisnogoodresponsetothis,shegivesmeapolitesmileandbeginsenteringtheinformation.
Idon’tknowwhyIfeelcompelledtocontinue,butIdo.“Ilostmyjobthisfall,andit’sbeenoneinterviewafteranother.”IcanfeelEthantensingatmyside,thecasualhandonmylowerbackclutchingatmyshirtuntilhisgripmustresembleabirdofpreytryingtoputastrugglingfieldmouseoutofitsmisery.“ItendtobakewhenI’mstressed,whichiswhyIlookalittledifferentinthephoto.Thephotoofme.ButIdidgetajob.Today,actually,ifyoucanbelieveit.Notthatit’sunbelievableoranythingThejoborthewedding.”
WhenIfinallycomeupforair,boththewomanandEthanarejuststaringatme.
Smilingtightly,sheslidesafolderfilledwithvariousmapsanditinerariesacrossthecounter.“Itlookslikewehaveyouinourhoneymoonsuite.”
MybraintripsonthephrasehoneymoonsuiteandfillswithimagesoftheroomLoisandClarkKentshareinSupermanII:thepinkfabrics,theheart-shapedtub,thegiantbed.
“Theromancepackageisall-inclusive,”shecontinues,“andyoucanchoosefromanumberofamenities,includingcandlelitdinnersintheMolokiniGarden,acouple’smassageonthespabalconyatsunset,turn-downservicewithrosepetalsandchampagne—”
EthanandIexchangeabrieflook.
“We’rereallymoretheoutdoorsytypes,”Icutin.“Arethereanyactivitiesavailablethatarealittlemoreruggedandalotless.naked?”
Cuetheawkwardpause.
Sheclearsherthroat.“Youcanfindamorecomprehensivelistinyourroom.Takealook,andwecanscheduleanythingyoulike.”
IthankherandchanceapeekoveratEthan,whoisnowgazingatmelovingly—whichmeanshe’splanningthenonbuffetmenuformyfuneralreception,afterhe’smurderedmeandhiddenmybody.
Withafinalswipeofourroomkeystoactivatethem,shehandsthemtoEthanandsmileswarmly.“You’reonthetopfloor.Elevatorsarearoundthatcornerthere.I’llhaveyourbagssentupimmediately.”
“Thankyou,”hemanageseasily,withoutspillingthedetailsofthepastyearofhislife.
ButI’mpleasedtoseehimfalterinhissmoothfootstepsasshecallsoutafterus:“Congratulations,Mr.andMrs.Thomas.Enjoyyourhoneymoon.”chapterfive
Thelockchimesandthedoubledoorsswingopen.Mybreathcatchesinmythroat.NeverinmylifehaveIstayedinasuite,letaloneonethisopulent.IpouroneoutforAmi’sdreamhoneymoonandtrynottofeelgratefulthatshe’sbackinSt.PaulsufferingsothatIcanbehere.Butit’shard;objectivelythishasturnedoutverywellforme.
Well,mostly.IlookupatEthan,whogesturesformetoleadusinside.Aheadofusisanabsurdlyspaciouslivingroom,withacouch,loveseat,twochairs,andlowglasscoffeetableonafluffywhiterug.Thetableistoppedwithabeautifulvioletorchidinawovenbasket,acomplicatedremotethatlookslikeitprobablyoperatesabionichousekeeper,andabucketwithabottleofchampagneandtwoflutesthathaveMr.andMrs.etchedintheglass.
ImeetEthan’seyesonlylongenoughforbothofourinstinctivesneerstotakeroot.
Justtotheleftofthelivingroomisasmalldiningnook,withatable,twobrasscandlesticks,andatiki-themedbarcartcoveredinallmannerofornatecocktailglasses.ImentallygulpdownaboutfourmargaritasandgetananticipatorybuzzfromalltheupcomingfreeboozeI’mabouttoenjoy.
Butatthefarendisthetruebeautyoftheroom:awallofglassdoorsthatopentoabalconyoverlookingthecrashingMauisurf.Igasp,slidingthemtothesideandsteppingoutintothewarmJanuarybreezeThetemperature—sobalmy,sonotMinnesota—shocksmeintoasurrealawareness:I’minMaui,inadreamsuite,onanall-inclusivetrip.I’veneverbeentoHawaii.I’veneverdoneanythingdreamlike,period.IstarttodancebutonlyrealizeI’mdoingitwhenEthanstepsoutontothebalconyanddumpsanenormousbucketofwateronmyjoybyclearinghisthroatandsquintingoutacrossthewaves.
Helookslikehe’sthinking,Eh.I’veseenbetter.
“Thisviewisamazing,”Isay,almostconfrontationally.
Slowlyblinkingovertome,hesays,“Asisyourpropensitytoovershare.”
“IalreadytoldyouI’mnotagoodliar.IgotnervouswhenshewaslookingatAmi’sID,okay?”
Heholdshishandsupinsarcasticsurrender.Withascowl,IescapeMr.Buzzkillandheadbackinside.Justtotheimmediaterightoftheentry,thereisasmallkitchenIcompletelybypassedonmywaytothebalcony.Pastthekitchenisahallwaythatleadstoasmallbathroom,and,justpastit,theopulentmasterbedroom.Istepinsideandseethere’sanotherhugebathroomherewithagianttubbigenoughfortwo.Iturntofacethegiganticbed.Iwanttorollinit.Iwanttotakeoffmyclothesandslipintothesilky—
Ifeelthetirescometoascreechinghaltinsidemybrain.
But.how?Howhavewecomethisfarwithoutdiscussingthelogisticsofsleepingarrangements?Didwebothtrulyassumethatthehoneymoonsuitewouldhavetwobedrooms?Withoutadoubt,webothwouldhappilydieontheNotSharingaBedwithYouhill,buthowdowedecidewhogetstheonlybedroom?Obviously,IthinkIshould—butknowingEthan,heprobablythinkshe’lltakethebedandI’llhappilybuildmylittletrollfortunderthediningtable.
IstepoutofthebedroomjustasEthanisclosingthewidedoubledoors,andthenwearesealedintothisawkwardmomentofunpreparedcohabitation.Weturninunisontogazeatoursuitcases.
“Wow,”Isay.
“Yeah,”heagrees.
“It’sreallynice.”
Ethancoughs.Aclocktickssomewhereintheroom,tooloudintheawkwardsilence.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“Itis.”Hereachesup,scratchingthebackofhisneck.Oceanwavescrashinthebackground.“And,obviouslyyou’rethewoman.Youshouldtakethebedroom.”
SomeofthosewordsaretheonesIwanttohear,andsomeofthemarejustterrible.Itiltmyhead,scowling.“Idon’tgetthebedroombecauseI’mawoman.Igettheroombecausemysisterwonit.”
Hegivesadoucheylittlewince-shrugandsays,“Imean,ifwe’regoingbythosestandards,thenIshouldgettheroom,sinceAmigotitpartlyusingDane’sHiltonstatus.”
“Shestillmanagedtoorganizeitall,”Isay.“IfitwasuptoDane,they’dbestayingattheDoubletreeinMankatothisweek.”
“Yourealizeyou’rejustarguingwithmeforthesakeofarguing,right?Ialreadytoldyouyoucouldhavetheroom.”
Ipointathim.“Whatyou’redoingrightnowisn’targuing?”
HesighslikeIamthemostirritatingpersonalive.“Takethebedroom.I’llsleeponthecouch.”Hegazesatit.Itlooksplushandnice,sure,butitisstillacouchandwe’reherefortennights.“I’llbefine,”headdswithaheftyspoonfulofmartyrdomthrownin.
“Okay,ifyou’regoingtoactlikeI’mbeholdentoyou,thenIdon’twantit.”
Heexhalesslowly,andthenwalksovertohissuitcase,liftingitandcarryingittothebedroom.
“Wait!”Icall.“Itakethatback.Idowantthebedroom.”
Ethanstopswithoutturningtolookatme.“I’mjustgoingtoputsomethingsinthedrawerssoI’mnotlivingoutofmysuitcaseinthelivingroomfortendays.”Heglancesatmeoverhisshoulder.“Ipresumethat’sokay?”
Heissocarefullybalancingbeinggenerouswithbeingpassive-aggressivethatIamallmixedupabouthowbiganassholehereallyis.Itmakesitimpossibletomeasureoutthecorrectdoseofsnark.
“It’sfine,”Isay,andaddmagnanimously,“takeallthedresserspaceyouwant.”
Ihearhisbemusedsnortashedisappearsfromview.
Thebottomlineisthatwedon’tgetalong.Buttheotherbottomlineisthatwedon’treallyneedto!Hopefillsmelikehelium.EthanandIcanmovearoundeachotherwithouthavingtointeract,anddowhateverweliketomakethisourindividualdreamvacations.
Forme,thissliceofheavenwillincludethespa,zip-lining,snorkeling,andeverymannerofadventureIcanfind—includingadventuresofthealcoholicvariety.IfEthan’sideaofaperfectvacationisbrooding,complaining,andsighingexasperatedly,hecansurelydothatanywherehewants,butIdon’thavetoendureit.
IquicklycheckmyemailandseeanewonefromHamilton.Theofferis.well,sufficeittosayIdon’tneedtolookthroughanythingelsetoknowI’lltakeit.Theycouldtellmemydeskwasperchedonthelipofavolcano,andIwouldacceptinaheartbeatforthiskindofmoney.
PullingoutmyiPad,Idigitallysigneverythingandsenditoff.
Practicallyvibrating,Ithumbthroughthelistofhotelactivitiesanddecidethatthefirstorderofbusinessisacelebratoryfacialandbodyscrubdownatthespa.Solo.Idon’tthinkEthanismuchofapamperingtype,buttheworstthingwouldbetohavehimliftacoolingcucumbersliceoffmyeyelidandglaredownatmewhileI’mlounginginarobe.
“Ethan,”Icall,“whatareyouuptothisafternoon?”
Intheansweringsilence,IsensehispanicthatImightberequestinghiscompany.
“I’mnotaskingbecauseIwanttohang,”Iaddquickly.
Hehesitatesagain,andwhenhefinallyanswers,hisvoicecomesouttinny,likehe’sactuallyclimbedintothecloset.“ThankGod.”
Well.“I’mprobablygoingtoheaddowntothespa.”
“Dowhateveryouwant.Justdon’tuseallthemassagecredits,”hetackson.
Iscowl,eventhoughhecan’tseeme.“HowmanytimesdoyouthinkI’mgoingtogetrubbeddowninasingleafternoon?”
“I’drathernotcontemplate.”
Iflipthebirdinhisgeneraldirection,consultthedirectorytoconfirmthatthespahasshowersIcanuse,grabmykeycard,andleaveEthantohissurlyunpacking.
???
GUILTEDGESINATINYbitwhenIambeingpamperedandindulgedfornearlythreehoursusingAmi’sname.Myfaceisexfoliated,massaged,andmoisturized.Mybodyiscoveredinclay,scrubbeduntilI’mredandtinglyallover,andthencoveredwithwarmeucalyptustowels
ImakeasilentpromisetoputasidemoneyfromeachpaycheckforawhilesothatIcansendmysistertoalavishspabackhomewhenshenolongerfeels“likeafreshlyreanimatedcorpse.”ItmaynotbeMaui,butanylittlebitIcanpayherbackforthis,I’mcommittedtodo.AllIhavetodothisentireweekistipthestaff;itseemssopreposterous.Thistypeofblissful,transcendentspaexperienceisn’tforme.I’mtheonewhogetsafungalinfectionfromapedicureintheCitiesandabikiniwaxburnataspainDuluth.
Limpasajellyfishalloveranddrunkonendorphins,Ilookupatmytherapist.“Thatwas.amazing.IfIeverwinthelottery,I’mgoingtomovehereandpayyoutodothateveryday.”
Sheprobablyhearsthatdaily,butshelaughslikeIamexceedinglyclever.“I’mgladyouenjoyedyourself.”
Enjoyedmyselfisanunderstatement.Notonlywasitdreamy,butitwasafullthreehoursawayfromEthan.
I’mledbacktothelounge,whereI’mtoldtotakeasmuchtimeasIwantDivingintotheplushcouch,Ipullmyphonefromthepocketofmyrobe.I’munsurprisedtoseemessagesfrommymom(TellyourdadtobringussometoiletpaperandGatorade),mysister(Tellmomtogohooooome),Diego(IsthispunishmentformakingfunofNatalia’sterriblebleachjob?I’dsayI’msorrybutI’veseenmopswithfewersplitends),andJules(DoyoucareifIstayatyourplacewhileyou’regone?ThisthingisliketheplagueandImighthavetoburndownmyapartment).
Tootiredandblissedouttodealwithanyofitnow,Ipickupawell-lovedcopyofUsWeekly.ButnotevencelebritygossiporthelatestBachelordramacankeepmeawake,andIfeelmyeyelidsclosingundertheweightofhappyexhaustion.
“Ms.Torres?”
“Hmm?”Ihum,groggy.
“Ms.Torres,isthatyou?”Eyesboltingopen,InearlyoverturnthecucumberwaterI’vegotprecariouslyperchedonmychest.WhenIsit,IlookupandnearlyallIseeisanenormouswhitemustache.
Andoh.Iknowthismustache;Ifirstmetthismustacheatahighlyimportantinterview.Irememberatthetimethinking,Wow,aSamElliottdoppelg?ngeristheCEOhereatHamiltonBiosciences!Whoknew?
Myeyesmoveup.Yes,theSamElliottdoppelg?nger—CharlesHamilton,mynewboss’sboss—isrightinfrontofmeattheSpaGrandeinMaui.
Wait.what?
“Mr.Hamilton!Hi!”
“Ithoughtthatwasyou.”HelookstannerthanwhenIsawhimafewweeksago,hiswhitehairatouchlonger,andhedefinitelywasn’twearingafluffywhiterobeandslippers.
Hecrossestheroom,armsoutstretchedforahug.
Oh.Okay,we’regoingtodothis.Istand,andhecatchesmyexpressionofdiscomfort—becauseIdon’tusuallyhugmybosses,especiallynotwhennakedunderarobe—andthenIseewhenheregistersthathisbrainisonvacationandhedoesn’thughisemployees,either,butwe’recommittednowandcometogetherinanawkwardsidehugthatensuresourrobesdon’tgapeanywhere.
“Ifthisisn’tasmallworld,”hesaysoncehe’spulledaway.“RechargingthebatteriesbeforestartingyournewadventureatHamilton?That’sexactlywhatIliketosee.Can’ttakecareofothersifyoudon’ttakecareofyourselffirst.”
“Exactly.”Mynerveshavedumpedbucketsofadrenalineintomyveins;goingfromZentoNewBossAlertisjarring.Ipullthetieonmyrobealittletighter.“AndIwanttothankyouagainfortheopportunity.Iambeyondexcitedtobejoiningtheteam.”
Mr.Hamiltonwavesmeoff.“TheminutewespokeIknewyou’dbeagreatfit.YourdedicationtoButakewascommendable.IalwayssaythatHamiltonisnothingwithoutthegoodpeopleworkingthere.Honesty,integrity,loyalty—thoseareourhallmarks.”
Inod;IlikeMr.Hamilton—hehasanimpeccablereputationinthebiosciencesfieldandisknownforbeinganincrediblyinvolvedandhands-onCEO—butIcan’thelpbutnotethatthislineisanalmostexactreplicaoftheonehegavemeasweshookhandsattheendoftheinterview.NowthatI’veliedtoabouttwentypeopleonthehotel’sstaff,hearingitherefeelsmoreominousthaninspiring.
ThesoundofquickenedfootstepscanbeheardontheothersideofthedoorbeforeapanickedKellyburststhrough“Mrs.Thomas.”
Mystomachdrops.
“Oh,thankGodyou’restillhere.Youleftyourweddingringinthetreatmentroom.”Sheoffersanoutstretchedhandandplacesthesimplebandinmypalm.
IletoutaderangedsilentscreaminsidemycraniumwhileImanagetogiveheramutedthanks.
“‘Mrs.Thomas?’”Hamiltonprompts.
Thetherapistlooksbetweenus,obviouslyconfused.
“YoumeanTorres,”hesays.
“No..”Sheblinksdowntoaclipboardandthenbacktous.“ThisisMrs.Thomas.Unlessthere’sbeensomemistake?”
IrealizetherearetwothingsIcandohere:
1.IcouldadmitthatIhadtotakemysister’shoneymoonbecauseshegotsickandampretendingtobemarriedtoaguynamedEthanThomassowecansnagthissweethoneymoonpackage,or
2.IcouldliemyfaceoffandtellthemthatIjustgotmarriedand—sillyme—I’mnotusedtomynewnameyet.
Ineithercase,Iamaliar.Optiononeleavesmewithmyintegrity.However,withoptiontwoIwon’tdisappointmynewboss(especiallygiventhathalfmyinterviewwasfocusedonbuildingaworkforcewith“astrongmoralcompass”andpeoplewho“puthonestyandintegrityaboveeverythingelse”),andwon’tendupsleepingonthebeach,hungryandunemployed,withonlyagiantspaandhotelbilltouseasshelter.
Iknowthere’sanobviousrightchoicehere,butIdonotmakeit.
“Ohyeah.Justgotmarried.”
OhGod.Why?Whydoesmymouthdothis?Thatwashonestlytheworstchoice.Becausenow,whenwereturnhome,I’mgoingtohavetopretendtobemarriedwheneverIrunintoMr.Hamilton—whichcouldbedaily—orfessuptogettingfakedivorcedimmediatelyafterthefakewedding.
Gah.
Hissmileissobigitliftsthemustache.Thetherapistisrelievedtheweirdmomentoftensionisgoneandexcusesherselfwithasmile.Stillbeaming,Mr.Hamiltonreachesout,shakingmyhand.“Well,now,thatissomewonderfulnews.Wherewasthewedding?”
AtleasthereIcanbetruthful:“AttheHilton,downtownSt.Paul.”
“Mygosh,”hesays,shakinghishead,“juststartingout.Whatablessing.”Heleansinandwinks.“MyMollyandIareherecelebratingourthirtiethanniversary,canyoubelieveit?”
Imakemyeyesround,likeit’sjustwildthatthiswhite-hairedmanhasbeenmarriedforsolong,andfumblethroughsomenoisesaboutthatbeingamazingandexcitingandyoumustjustbe.sohappy.
Andthenhetakesoutametaphoricalanvilandknocksmeintothefloor:“Whydon’tyoutwojoinusfordinner?”
MeandEthan,sittingbesideeachotheratatable,havingto.touch,andsmile,andpretendtoloveeachother?Istifleachortle.
“Oh,wecouldn’timpose.Youtwoprobablynevergetawaytogether.”
“Ofcoursewedo!Thekidsareoutofthehouse—it’sjustustwoallthetime.Comeon.It’sourlastnight,andI’msureshe’ssickofme,tobehonest!”Heletsoutaheartylaugh.“Itwouldn’tbeanyimpositionatall.”
Ifthere’sawayoutofthissituation,I’mnotcomingupwithitfastenough.IthinkIhavetobitethebullet.
Smiling—andhopingIlookfarlessterrifiedthanIfeel—Igivein.Ineedthisjob,andamdyingtolandinMr.Hamilton’sgoodgraces.I’mgoingtohavetoaskEthanforahugefavor.I’mgoingtoowehimsobig,itmakesmewanttohurl.
“Sure,Mr.Hamilton.EthanandIwouldlovethat.”
Hereachesoutandsqueezesmyshoulder.“CallmeCharlie.”
???
THEHALLWAYWEAVESANDELONGATESinfrontofme.Iwishitweren’tjustanillusionbornfromdread,andthatitreallywerefivemilestooursuite.Butitisn’t,andsoonerthanI’dlike,I’mbackattheroom,halfprayingthatEthanisoutdoingsomethingamazinguntiltomorrow,andhalfprayingthathe’sheresowecanmakeittodinnerwithMr.Hamilton.
AssoonasIwalkin,Iseehimsittingonthebalcony.WhyisheinMaui,hangingoutinthehotelroom?Although,nowthatIthinkaboutit,itsoundslovely.Igrowinstinctivelyitchyattheprospectofsharingthehomebodygenewithhim.
Atleasthe’schangedintoshortsandaT-shirt,andhashisbarefeetproppedupontheledge.Thewindblowshisdarkhairalloverhishead,butIimaginehimsquintingjudgmentallyoutatthesurf,silentlytellingthewavestheycoulddobetter.
WhenImovecloser,Iseethathe’sholdingacocktailinahighballglassHisbarearmsaretannedandtoned;hislegsaresurprisinglymuscularandseemtogoonforever.ForsomereasonIexpectedthat,inshortsandaT-shirt,he’dlooklikeastringbeanwithawkwardlimbsbendingatoddangles.Maybeit’sbecausehe’ssotall.Ormaybeitwasjusteasiertotellmyselfthatonlyhisfacecouldbepretty,andhe’dbegnarledandganglybeneathhisclothes.
Quitefrankly,he’ssowell-roundedphysically,it’salittleunfair.
IslideopenthedoorasquietlyasIcan;helooksprettyrelaxed.I’msurehe’sthinkingaboutdrowningpuppies,butI’mnotheretojudge.Atleastnotuntilafterhe’shaddinnerwithmyboss.Thenit’son.
IrealizeI’llneedtobecharming,soIslapasmileonmyface.“Heythere.”
Heturns,andhisblueeyesnarrow.“Olivia.”
Wow,Iamgettingsickofhisstupidnamegame.“What’reyouupto,Elijah?”
“Justenjoyingtheview.”
Well,that’s.nice.“Ididn’tknowyoudidthat.”
Heblinksbackouttothewater.“Didwhat?”
“Enjoyedthings?”
Ethanlaughsincredulously,anditoccurstomethatIcouldstandtoupmysweet-talkinggameabit.“Howwasthemassage?”heasks.
“Great.”Isearchformorewordsthataren’tpanickyandgroveling.“Superrelaxing.”
Heglancesatmeagain.“Thisiswhatrelaxedlookslikeonyou?Wow.”WhenIdon’tsayanythingelse,heasks,“What’swithyou?You’rebeingweirderthanusual.”
“I’veneverseenyouinshortsbefore,”Iadmit.Hislegs,specificallythemusclesonthem,arearatherinterestingdevelopment.Quickly,Iworktoremovethehintofappreciationinmyvoice.“Awkward.”
“Imean,it’snotlikeputtingatrayofcleavageondisplay,”hesays,wavingacasualhand,“butI’mtoldshortsarestillislandappropriate.”
I’mprettysurethat’sanotherdigonmybridesmaiddress,butIhonestlycannotbebotheredtochasethisonedown.“So,funnything,”Isay,pullingupachairbesidehimandtakingaseat.“Youknowhow,attheairport,IwasofferedthejobatHamilton?”
Henods,alreadybored.
“Well,guesswho’shere?”Iattemptenthusiasmbywayofforcedjazzhands.“Mr.Hamiltonhimself!”
Ethan’sheadwhipsmyway.AndIabsolutelygetthefearinhiseyes:ourabilitytobecompletelyanonymoushasjustbeenhosed.“Herehere?Attheresort?”
“Iranintohiminthespa.”AndIaddunnecessarily,“Inarobe.Hehuggedme.Itwasweird.Anyway,sooooo,heinvitedustodinnertonight.Withhiswife.”
Helaughsonce.“Pass.”
IcurlmyfingersintofistssoIdon’treachoverandslaphim.Butapunchmightleaveamark,soIflattenmyhandsagainandsitonthem.“ThemassagetherapistcalledmeMrs.Thomas.InfrontofMr.Hamilton.”Ipauseabeattoseeifhegetsit.Whenhedoesn’treact,Iadd,“DoyougetwhatI’mtellingyou?MynewbossthinksIgotmarried.”
Veryslowly,Ethanblinks,andthenblinksagain.“Youcouldhavetoldhimwe’rejustpretending.”
“Infrontofthestaff?Noway.Plus,he’sallaboutintegrityandtrust!Inthemoment,itfeltlikecontinuingtheliewasthebetteroption,butnowwe’retotallyscrewedbecausehethinksIgotmarried.”
“Hethinksthatbecauseyouliterallytoldhimyougotmarried.”
“Shutup,Eric,letmethink.”Ileanin,chewingafingernail,musing“Itcouldbeokay,right?Imean,forallheknows,it’llturnoutthatyou’reabusiveandIgetaquickannulmentafterthistrip.He’llneverknowIwasbeingdishonest.”Isitup,hitwithanidea.“Ooh!Icouldtellhimyoudied!”
Ethanjuststaresatme.
“Wewentsnorkeling,”Isay,frowningnow.“Sadly,younevercamebacktotheboat.”
Heblinks.
“What?”Iask.“It’snotlikeyou’reevergoingtoseehimagainaftertonight.Youdon’tneedhimtolikeyou.Or,youknow,knowyoucontinuetoexist.”
“YouseemprettysureI’mcomingtodinner.”
Iputonmysweetestexpression.Icrossmylegsandthenuncrossthem.Ileanforward,batmylashesandsmile“Please,Ethan?Iknowthisisahugeask.”
Heleansaway.“Doyouhavesomethinginyoureye?”
Myshoulderssink,andIgroan.Ican’tbelieveI’mgoingtosaythis“I’llgiveupthebedroomifyoucometonightandplaythepart.”
Hechewshislip,thinking.“Sowehavetopretendtobemarried?Like,touchingand.warm?”
Ethanspitsoutthewordwarmlikemostpeoplewouldsaydismemberment.
“Itwouldmeaneverythingtome.”IthinkI’vegothim.Iscootmychairjustalittlecloser.“IpromiseI’llbethebestfakewifeyoueverhad.”
Heliftshisdrinkandfinishesit.Idefinitelydonotnoticehowlonganddefinedhisthroatlooksasheswallows.“Fine.I’llgo.”
Inearlymeltinrelief.“Thankyousomuch,ohmyGod.”
“ButIgetthebedroom.”chaptersix
SOS
AMI
MR.HAMILTONISHEREANDITOLDHIMI’MMARRIEDANDIDKWHY?NOWIHAVETOPRETENDTOBEMARRIEDTOETHANFORANENTIREDINNERANDI’LLPROBABLYBEFIREDANDHAVETOSLEEPINYOURBATHTUBBECAUSEI’MATERRIBLELIAR
AMITHISISATWINEMERGENCY
STOP
Idon’thaveanyfluidsleftinmybody
I’vebeenwithmomnonstopforover36hours
IfIdon’tdiefromthisImightneedsomeonetokillme.Orher.
SLOWDOWN
Sorry,Sorry
BUTI’MFREAKINGOUT
Yournewbossisattheresort?InMaui??
He’shereforhisanniversary.
SomeonecalledmeMrs.ThomasandIapparentlylostmymind.
PeoplearegoingtobecallingyouMrs.Thomasthewholetime.
Youbettergetusedtoit.Andcalmdown.Youcandothis.
Havewemet?Iabsolutelycannotdothis.
Justkeepyouranswerssimple.
Whenyougetnervousyoulookguilty
Omgthat’sexactlywhatEthansaid
WhoknewEthanwassosmart
Nowifyou’llexcuseme,Ihavetothrowupforthe50thtimetoday
Don’twastemytrip
Istaredownatmyphone,wishingmysisterwerehere.IknewthiswasalltoogoodtobetrueItypeoutanotherquickmessagetellinghertocallmetonightandletmeknowhowshe’sfeeling,andthenItextDiego.
Teachmehowtolie
Whoisthis
GDIDIEGO.
FINE.Whoarewelyingto?
Mynewboss.
InMaui???
Pleasedon’task.
Justtellmehowyoumanagedtodatethosetwinsw/oeitherofthemfindingout.
Teachme,Yoda.
First,onlyliewhenyouneedtoandkeepitsimple.
Youalwaysoverexplainandit’ssecondhandembarrassing.
MOVINGON
Knowyourstorygoingin
Don’ttrytomakeituponthefly.Godyou’resobadatthat
Don’tfidgetanddefdon’ttouchyourface.Youdothattoo.Justsitstill
Oh,andifyoucan,touchthem.
Itcreatesasenseofintimacyandmakesthemwanttotaketheirpantsoffinsteadofaskingyouquestions
Ewthisismyboss!
I’mjustsayingitcouldn’thurt
Diego.
You’reascientist.Dosomeresearch.
IglanceupfrommyGooglesearchatthesoundofaknock.
“Nottobeallclichéandhusbandyandhassleyouaboutbeinglate”—there’sapauseandIcanpracticallyseeEthanfrowningdownathiswatchfromtheothersideofthedoor—“butit’salmostsix.”
“Iknow.”Imanagetokeeptheshoutedversionofmyreplycontainedtotheinsideofmyhead.AfterEthanagreedtodinner,IsprintedtothebedroomtotryoneveryarticleofclothingIbroughtwithme,beforetextingmysisterandDiegoinapanicTheroomisadisaster,andI’mnotsureI’manymorereadytodothisnowthanIwasanhourago.Iamamess.
Ethan’svoicecarriesthroughthedooragain,closerthistime.“‘Iknow’asinI’malmostready,or‘Iknow’asinIknowhowtotelltime,kindlyfuckoff?”
Both,ifwe’rebeinghonest.“Thefirst.”
Ethanknocks.“OkayifIcomeinmyroom?”
Myroom.Iopenthedoorandlethimin,feelingdelightedbythemessI’mleavingbehindme.
Ethanstepsin.He’sabouttomeetmybossandspendthenextfewhourslyinghisfaceoff,andhe’sinblackjeansandaSurlyBreweryT-shirt.Helookslikehe’sgoingouttodinneratChili’s,nothavingdinnerwiththewife’snewboss.Hiscalmexterioronlyamplifiesmypanicbecauseofcoursehe’snotworried;hehasnothingtolose.Thedreadinmystomachblooms.Ethanhasthis,Iabsolutelydonot.
Helooksaroundtheroomandrunsanaggravatedhandthroughhishair.Ofcourseitmanagestofallperfectlybackintoplace.“Allofthiswasinonesuitcase?”
“Iamtotallyoutofmydepthhere.”
“That’sbeenmygeneralimpressionsofar.Bemorespecific.”
Idropontothebed,kickingasideahotpinkbraandgroaningwhenitsnagsontheheelofmyshoe.“WheneverItelllies,Igetcaught.IoncetoldmyprofessorIhadtomissclasstotakecareofmysickroommate,andhelookeduprightasmyroommatewalkedpastusinthehallway.HeknewherfromhisTuesday/Thursdaylecture.”
“Yourmistakewasingoingtoclassatall.Justsendanemaillikeanormalliar.”
“OrtherewastheonetimeinhighschoolIhadmycousinMiguelcallinsickformeandpretendtobemydad,buttheofficecalledmymomtoconfirmbecausemydadhadnevercalledinbefore.”
“Well,thatwasjustpoorplanningonyourpart.Howisanyofthisrelevantrightnow?”
“It’srelevantbecauseI’mtryingtolooklikeawife,andhavebeenresearchinghowtolie.”
Reachingformyleg,Ethanwrapsawarmpalmaroundmycalfandplucksthebrafrommyshoe.“Okay.Doesawifehaveaspecificlook?”
Isnatchthelingeriefromwhereitnowdanglesontheendofhisfinger.“Idon’tknow,likeAmi?”
Hisdeeplaughechoesthroughtheroom.“Yeah,that’snotgoingtohappen.”
“Hey.We’retwins.”
“Thisisn’taboutlooks,”hesays,andthemattresssinksunderhisweightashetakesaseatatmyside.“AmihasthisindescribableconfidenceIt’showshecarriesherself.Likenomatterwhathappens,she’sgothershittogetherenoughforthebothofyou.”
I’mconflictedbetweenbeingproudofmysister—because,yeah,shedoesmakepeoplefeelthatway—andvainlycuriousaboutwhathethinksofme.VanityandtheconfrontationalsideofmethatrearsitsheadaroundEthanwinout.“WhatimpressiondoIgive?”
Helooksatmyphone,andI’msureheseesthewordsHowtolieconvincinglyinthesearchbar.Withalaugh,heshakeshishead.“Likeyoushouldputyourheadbetweenyourlegsandpray.”
I’mabouttopushhimoffthebedwhenhestands,looksmeaningfullydownathiswatchandthenbackupatme.
Passive-aggressivehintnoted.Standing,Igiveafinallookinthemirrorandreachformypurse.“Let’sgetthisoverwith.”
???
ASWEMAKEOURWAYtotheelevator,I’mremindedofthesupremeimbalanceoftheuniverse;eveninunflatteringoverheadlight,Ethanstillmanagestolookgood.Somehowtheshadowssharpenhisfeaturesratherthanunattractivelyexaggeratingthem.Standinginfrontofthemirroreddoors,Inotetheresultisnotthesameforme.
Asifreadingmymind,Ethanbumpshishipintomine.“Stopit.Youlookfine.”
Fine,Ithink.LikeawomanwholoveshercheesecurdsLikeawomanwhoseboobspopoutofherbridesmaiddress.Likeawomanwhodeservesyourdisdainbecausesheisn’tperfect.
“IcanhearyouthinkingaboutthatonewordandreadingmoreintoitthanIintended.Youlookgreat.”Onceinside,hepressesthebuttonforthelobbyandadds,“Youalwaysdo.”
Thesethreefinalwordsboundaroundmycraniumbeforetheyabsorb.Ialwayslookgreat?Towho?Ethan?
Thefloorscountdownanditfeelsliketheelevatorisholdingitsbreathrightalongwithme.ImeettheeyesofmyreflectioninthemirroreddoorsandglanceoveratEthan.
Youalwaysdo.
Colorbloomshighonhischeekbones,andhelookslikehe’dbehappyifthecablessnappedanddeathswalloweduswhole.
Iclearmythroat.“Ina1990study,researchersshowedthatit’seasiertocatchsomeoneinaliethefirsttimetheytellit.Weshouldfigureoutwhatwe’regoingtosay.”
“YouneededGoogletotellyouthat?”
“IdobetterwhenI’mprepared.Youknow,practicemakesperfect.”
“Right.”Hepauses,thinking.“Wemetthroughfriends—technicallynotalie,soitwillbeharderforyoutoscrewitup—andgotmarriedlastweek.Iamtheluckiestmanalive,etcetera,etcetera.”
Inodinagreement.“Metthroughfriends,datedforawhileandohmyGod,Iwassosurprisedwhenyoubeggedmetomarryyou.”
Ethan’slipcurls.“IgotdownononekneewhilewewerecampingatMooseLake.ProposedwithaRingPop.”
“Detailsaregood!Wesmelledlikecampfiretheentirenextday,”Isay,“butdidn’tcarebecauseweweresohappyandhavinglotsofcelebratorytentsex.”
Theelevatorfallsdeathlysilent.IlookoverinastrangecombinationofhorrorandjoythatI’vemanagedtorenderhimspeechlesswiththeprospectofsexwithme.Finally,hemumbles,“Right.Wecanprobablyleaveoutthatdetailforyourboss.”
“Andremember,”Isay,lovinghisdiscomfort,“Ididn’tmentionyou,orbeingengaged,evenatthemorecasuallunchattheinterview,soweneedtolookalittlewindsweptbyitall.”
Theelevatordings,andthedoorsopenintothelobby.“Idon’tthinkwe’llhaveanytroublepullingthatoff.”
“Andbecharming,”Isay.“Butnotlike,likablecharming.Passablycharming.Theyshouldn’tleavewantingtospendanyactualtimewithyou.Becauseyou’reprobablygoingtodieorturnouttobeterribleintheend.”Icatchhissmall,irritatedscowlasheheadsintothelobbyandcan’thelpbutthrowinalittledig.“Basically,justbeyourself.”
“Man,Iamgoingtosleepsowelltonight.”Hestretches,likehe’spreppingtostarfishontheenormousbed.“FYI,watchtheleftsideofthesofa.Iwasreadingthereearliertodayandnoticedthere’saspringthatdigsalittle.”
Softmusicechoesthroughthelobbyaswemakeourwaytotheexit.Therestaurantisjustoffthebeach;it’sconvenientbecausewhenallthisblowsupinmyface,itwillonlybeashortwalktodrownmyselfintheocean.
Ethanopensthedoortotheexpansivecourtyardandmotionsformetoleadthewaydownalightedpath.“Whatisthiscompanyagain?”heasks.
“HamiltonBiosciences.They’reoneofthemostwell-knowncontractbiologicscompanyinthecountry,andonthediscoveryside,theyhaveanewfluvaccine.FromallofthepapersI’veread,itsoundsgroundbreaking.Ireallywantedthisjob,somaybementionhowhappywearethatIwashired,andthatit’sallI’vetalkedaboutsince.”
“We’resupposedtobeonourhoneymoon,andyouwantmetosayyou’vetalkednonstopabouttheirfluvaccine?”
“Yes.Ido.”
“What’syourjobagain?Janitor?”
Ah.Thereitis.“I’mamedical-scienceliaison,Eragon.BasicallyItalktophysiciansaboutourproductsfromamoretechnicalstandpointthandoesthesalesforce.”Iglanceoverathimaswewalk.Helookslikehe’stryingtocramforatest.“Heandhiswifeareherefortheirthirtiethanniversary.Ifwe’relucky,wecanjustaskthemabunchofstuffaboutthemselvesandnothavetotalkaboutusatall.”
“Forsomeonewhoclaimstobeunlucky,you’reputtinganawfullotoffaithintoyourluckystreak.”Hedoesasmalldoubletakewhenheregistersthatthishashitmelikeatruthslap.Westopinfrontofashimmeringfountain,andEthanpullsapenny—butnotthatpenny—fromhispocketandtossesitinside,“Seriously,calmdown.We’llbefine.”
Itry.WefollowthepathtoaPolynesian-stylethatched-roofbuildingandstepuptothehostessstand.“IbelievethereservationisunderHamilton,”Ethansays.
Dressedinallwhitesaveforalargegardeniapinnedinherhair,thehostessscansascreeninfrontofherandlooksupwithabrightsmile.“Rightthisway.”
Imovetosteparoundthepodium,andthat’swhenithappens.Ethanmovesintomyside,hispalmpressedagainstthesmallofmyback,andjustlikethat,ourcarefullypreservedbubbleofpersonalspaceisgone.
Helooksdownatmewithasweetsmileandsoft,adoringblueeyesandmotionsformetoleadthewaywiththehandnotcurrentlystrayingsouth.Thetransformationis.amazing.Debilitating.Mystomachisinknots,myheartislodgedinmywindpipe,andthere’ssomethingveryawarehappeningalongeveryinchofmyskin.
Therestaurantisonstiltsabovealagoon,andourtableisneararailingthatoverlooksthewater.Theinterioriselegantbutcozy,withleadedglasscandleholdersandwickerlanternsthatmakethespaceglow.
Mr.Hamiltonstandswhenheseesus,fluffywhiterobemercifullyreplacedwithafloral-printshirt.Thegiantmustacheisasrobustasever
“Theretheyare!”hecrows,noddingtomeandreachingouttoshakeEthan’shand.“Honey,thisisOlive,thenewteammemberItoldyouabout,andherhusband.”
“Ethan,”hesupplies,andhisdazzlingsmilepunchesmerightinthevagina.“EthanThomas.”
“Goodtomeetyou,Ethan.Thisismywife,Molly.”CharlesHamiltonmotionstothebrunetteathisside,rosycheeksandadeepdimplemakingherseemtooyoungforawomanwho’scelebratingthreedecadesofmarriage.
WeallshakehandsandEthanholdsoutmychair.IsmileandsitascarefullyasIcan.Therationalpartofmybrainknowshewon’tdoit,butthelizardbrainexpectsEthantopullitoutfromunderme.
“Thankyousomuchforinvitingus,”Ethansays,megawattsmileinplace.Hedrapesaneasyarmacrossthebackofmychair,leaningin.“Oliveissoexcitedtobeworkingwithyou.It’slikeshecan’tshutupaboutit.”
IlaughaHa-ha-haoh,thatrascallaughandcarefullysteponhisfootbeneaththetable.
“I’mjustgladshehadn’tbeensnatchedupyet,”Mr.Hamiltonsays.“We’reluckytohaveher.Andwhatasurprisetofindoutthatyoutwojustgotmarried!”
“Ithappenedsortoffast,”IsayandleanintoEthan,tryingtolooknatural.
“Snuckrightuponus.Likeanambush!”Hegruntswhenmyheeldigsfartherintothetopofhisfoot.“Andwhataboutyoutwo?Ihearcongratulationsareinorder?Thirtyyearsisjustamazing.”
Mollybeamsupatherhusband.“Thirtywonderfulyears,butevensotherearemomentsIcan’tbelievewehaven’tkilledeachotheryet.”
Ethanlaughsquietly,givingmeanadoringlook.“Aw,hon,canyouimaginethirtyyearsofthis?”
“Surecan’t!”Isay,andeveryonelaughs,thinkingofcourseI’mjoking.IreachuptobrushmyhairawayfrommyforeheadbeforerememberingI’mnotsupposedtofidget.ThenIfoldmyarmsacrossmychestandrecalltheinternetsayingnottodothateither.
Goddamnit.
“WhenCharlietoldmethatheranintoyou,”Mollysays,“well,Ijustcouldn’tbelieveit.Andonyourhoneymoon!”
Iclaplamely.“Yay!It’sso—fun.”
Thewaitressappears,andEthanpretendstoleaninandkissmyneck.Hisbreathishotbehindmyear.“Holyshit,”hewhispers.“Relax.”
Straighteningagain,hesmilesuptothewaitressasshereadsoffthespecials.Afterafewquestions,weorderabottleofpinotnoirforthetable,andourdinners.
AnyhopeIhadofnavigatingtheconversationawayfromusisshotdownassoonasthewaitressleaves.“Sohowdidyoutwomeet?”Mollyasks.
Apause.Keepitsimple,Olive.“Afriendintroducedus.”I’mmetwithpolitesmilesasMollyandCharleswaitfortheactualstorypartofthestory.Ishiftinmyseat,recrossmylegs.“And,um,heaskedmeout..”
“Wehadmutualfriendswhohadjuststarteddating,”Ethaninterjects,andtheirattention—thankfully—driftsovertohim.“Theyplannedalittlepartyhopingeveryonewouldgettoknoweachother.Inoticedherrightaway.”
Molly’shandsflutteraroundhercollarbones.“Loveatfirstsight.”
“Somethinglikethat.”Thecornerofhismouthtwitchesupward“ShewaswearingaT-shirtthatsaidParticleCollisionsGiveMeaHadron,andIthoughtanywomanwhounderstandsaphysicspunissomeoneIneedtoknow.”
Mr.Hamiltonbarksoutalaughandhitsthetable.Frankly,Icanbarelykeepmyjawfromhittingthefloor.ThestoryEthanistellingisn’ttherealfirsttimewemet,butmaybethethirdorfourth—infact,itwasthenightIdecidedIwasnotgoingtoputinasinglebitofeffortwithhimbecauseeverytimeItriedtobefriendly,he’dweaselawayandgointoanotherroom.Andhereheis,rattlingoffwhatIwaswearing.IcanbarelyrecallwhatIworeyesterday,nevermindwhatsomeoneelseworetwoandahalfyearsago.
“AndIguesstherestishistory?”Mr.Hamiltonsays.
“Sortof.Wedidn’treallygetalongatfirst.”Ethan’seyesmakeanadoringcircuitofmyface.“Buthereweare.”HeblinksbacktotheHamiltons.“Whataboutyoutwo?”
CharlesandMollytellusabouthowtheymetatasinglesdancethroughneighboringchurches,andwhenCharlesdidn’taskhertodance,shewalkedrightuptohimanddiditherself.Idomybesttopayattention,Ireallydo,butit’snearlyimpossiblewithEthansoclose.HisarmisstilldrapedacrossmychairandifIleanbackjustenough,hisfingersbrushthecurveofmyshoulder,thebackofmyneck.Itfeelsliketinylicksoffireeachtimehemakescontact.
Idefinitelydonotleanbackmorethantwice.
Onceourentréesarrive,wedigin.WiththewineflowingandEthancharmingthepantsoffofeveryone,itturnsintonotjustatolerablemealbutadelightfulone.Ican’tdecideifIwanttothankhimorstranglehim.
“DidyouknowwhenOlivewasakid,shegotstuckinoneofthoseclawarcademachines?”Ethansays,retellingmyleastfavorite—but,I’lladmit,funniest—story.“YoucanlookituponYouTubeandwatchtheextraction.It’scomedygold.”
MollyandCharlielookhorrifiedforLittleOlive,butIcanguaranteetheyaregoingtowatchtheshitoutofitlater.
“Howdidyoufindoutaboutthat?”Iaskhim,genuinelycurious.Icertainlynevertoldhim,butIalsocan’timaginehimengaginginaconversationaboutmewithanyoneelse,or—evenmoreunbelievable—Googlingme.Theideaactuallymakesmehavetopushalaughbackdownmythroat.
Ethanreachesformyhand,twistinghisfingerswithmine.They’rewarm,strong,andholdmetight.Ihatehowgreatitfeels.“Yoursistertoldme,”hesays.“Ibelieveherexactwordswere,‘Worstprizeever.’”
Theentiretableburstsintohysterics.Mr.Hamiltonislaughingsohardhisfaceisashockingshadeofred,madeworsebythesilverycontrastofhisgiantmustache.
“Remindmetothankherwhenwegethome,”Isay,pullingmyhandawayanddrainingthelastofmywine.
Stilllaughing,Mollycarefullydabsathereyeswithanapkin.“Howmanybrothersandsistersdoyouhave,Olive?”
ItakeEthan’searlieradviceandkeepitsimple.“Justtheone.”
“She’satwin,actually,”Ethanvolunteers.
Mollyisintrigued.“Areyouidentical?”
“Weare.”
“Theylookexactlyalike,”Ethantellsher,“buttheirpersonalitiesarepolaropposites.Likenightandday.Onehasitalltogether,andtheotherismywife.”
CharlieandMollyloseitagain,andIreachforEthan’shand,givinghimasweetAw,Iloveyou,yagoofsmilewhileIattempttobreakhisfingersinmyfist.Hecoughs,eyeswatering.
Mollymisinterpretshisglassed-overexpressionandlooksatusfondly.“Oh,thishasbeenthemostfun.Suchalovelywaytoendthistrip.”
Quiteclearly,shecouldnotbemoretakenwithmyfakehusbandandleansforward,dimpleinfullforce.“Ethan,didOlivementionthatwehaveaspousesgroupatHamilton?”
Spousesgroup?Continuedcontact?
“Shesuredidn’t,”hesays.
She’salreadyrubbingherhandstogether.“Wegettogetheronceamonth.It’smostlywiveswhomanagetomakeit,butEthan,youarejustdarling.Icanalreadytelleveryoneisgoingtoloveyou.”
“We’reaveryclose-knitgroup,”Mr.Hamiltonsays.“Andmorethancoworkers,weliketothinkofeveryoneasfamily.Youtwoaregoingtofitrightin.Olive,Ethan,I’mjustsothrilledtowelcomeyoubothtoHamilton.”
???
“ICAN’TBELIEVEYOUTOLDtheclawstory,”Isayaswewalkalongtheoutdoorpath,headedbacktotheroom.“Youknowthey’regoingtoGoogleit,whichmeansMr.Hamiltonwillseemeinmyunderwear.”
Thankfully,thepersonalspacebubbleisback.BeingaroundanEthanIdon’twanttopunchisdisorientingenough.Beingaroundanaffectionate,charmingEthanislikesuddenlybeingabletowalkontheceiling.
Thatsaid,dinnerwasanundeniablesuccess,andashappyasIamthatIdidn’tblowitandstillhaveajob,I’mirritatedthatEthanisconsistentlysogreatateverything.Ihavenoideahowhedoesit;he’scharm-free99percentofthetime,butthen,boom,heturnsintoMr.Congeniality.
“It’safunnystory,Olive,”hesays,walkingfasterandgettingafewpacesaheadofme.“ShouldIhavetoldthemaboutthetimeyougiftedmethatLastWillandTestamentsoftwareatthefamilyChristmasparty?Imean,honestly—”
“Iwasonlylookingoutforyourlovedones.”
“—Iwasmakingconversation—”EthanstopssosuddenlythatIcollidewiththebrickwallofhisback.
Icatchmybalance,horrifiedthatI’vejustsmashedmyentirefaceintothesplendorofhistrapezius.“Areyouhavingastroke?”
Hepresseshishandtohisforehead,headturningsohecanfranticallyscopeoutthepathbehindus,backthewaywecame.“Thiscan’tbehappening.”
Imovetofollowhisgaze,buthejerksmebehindanenormouspottedpalm,wherewehuddleclose.
“Ethan?”avoicecalls,followedbytheclickofhighheelsonthestonepath.Shefollowsupwithabreathy“IswearIjustsawEthan!”
Heturnshisfacetome.“Bigfavor:Ineedyoutogoalongwithme.”We’repressedsocloseIcanfeelhisbreathonmylips.Ismellthechocolatehehadfordessert,andapineyhintofhisdeodorant.
Itrytohateit.
“Youneedmyhelp?”Iask,andifitsoundsalittlebreathyI’msureit’sbecauseIatetoomuchatdinnerandamalittlewindedfromthewalk.
“Yes.”
Mysmileliterallyunfurls.Suddenly,IamtheGrinchwearingaSantahat.“It’sgonnacostyou.”
Helookspissedforabouttwosecondsbeforepanicwipesitaway.“Theroomisyours.”
Thefootstepsgetcloser,andthenablondheadisinvadingmyspace.“OhmyGod.Itisyou!”shesays,bypassingmecompletelytowrapEthaninahug.
“Sophie?”hesays,feigningsurprise.“I.whatareyoudoinghere?”
Detanglingfromtheembrace,Ethanglancesoveratme,eyeswide.
Sheturnstobeckontothemanstandingjustofftotheside,andItaketheopportunitytomouth—becauseohmyGod—ThisisSimba?!
Henods,clearlymiserable.
Holyawkward!Thisiswayworsethanrunningintoyournewbosswhilenakedunderarobe!
“Billy,”Sophiesaysproudly,pullingtheguyforward,andIgapebecausehelooksexactlylikeNormanReedus,butsomehowgreasier.“ThisisEthan.TheguyItoldyouabout.Ethan,thisisBilly.Myfiancé.”
EveninthedarkIseethewayEthanpales.“Fiancé,’”herepeats.Thewordlandswithaheavythud,andit’sinfinitelymoreawkwardwithEthandescribedonlyastheguyItoldyouabout.Weren’tEthanandSophietogetherforacoupleofyears?
Itdoesn’ttakeageniustoputthepiecestogether:Ethan’sreactionatseeingheracrossthepath,thewayheshutdownwhenIaskedaboutagirlfriendontheplane.Afreshbreakup,andshe’salreadyengaged?Ouch.
Butit’sasifsomeonehaspushedabuttonsomewhereonhisback,becauserobotEthanisbackandsuddenlyinmotion,steppingforwardtoofferBillyaconfidenthand.“Nicetomeetyou.”
Movingtohisside,Iloopacasualarmthroughhis.“Hi.I’mOlive.”
“Right,sorry,”hesays.“Olive,thisisSophieSharp.Sophie,thisisOliveTorres.”Hepausesandeverythinggoestightbetweenusinanticipationofwhatcomesnext.Ihavethesenseofbeingonthebackofamotorcycle,staringoverthelipofthecanyon,notknowingifhe’sgoingtorevthethrottleandsendusovertheedge.Hedoes:“Mywife.”
Sophie’snostrilsflareandforafractionofasecond,shelookspositivelyhomicidal.Butthenthelookisgone,andshegiveshimaneasysmile.“Wow!Wife!Amazing!”
Theproblemwithlyingaboutrelationshipsisthathumansarefickle,ficklecreatures.ForallIknowSophiecouldbetheonewhoendedthings,butseeingthatEthanisnolongeronthemarketwillmakehimseemforbidden—andthereforemorealluring.Ihavenoideawhathappenedtoendtheirrelationship—nordoIknowifheevenwantsherback—butifhedoes,Iwonderifherealizestheironythatbeingmarriedhasjustmadeitmorelikelyshe’llwanthimback,too.
Sheglancesatmeandthenhim.“Whendidthishappen?”I’msurewecanallhearhowit’saneffortforhertokeephervoicefrombeingrazorsharp,whichjustmakesitthatmuchmoreuncomfortable(andawesome).
“Yesterday!”Iwigglemyringfinger,andtheplaingoldbandwinksinthetorchlight.
Shelooksbackathim.“Ican’tbelieveIdidn’thearanything!”
“Imean,”Ethansays,laughingsharply,“wehaven’texactlyspoken,Soph.”
Andoh.Tension.Thisisso,soawkward(andjuicy).Mycuriosityisofficiallypiqued.
Shegivesacoylittlepout.“Still!Youdidn’ttellme.Wow.Ethan—married.”
It’simpossibletomissthewayhismouthhardens,hisjawflexes.“Thanks,”hesays.“Ithappenedprettyfast.”
“Feelslikeonlymomentsagowedecidedtoreallydothis!”Iagreewithaheartysmileupathim.
Hepressesahard,fastkisstomycheek,andIforcemyselfnottojerkawaylikeI’vebeenslappedwithadeadlizard
“Andyou’reengaged,”hesays,givingtheworld’sstiffestthumbs-up.“Lookatus.movingon.”
Sophieissmall,thin,andwearingaprettysilktanktop,skinnyjeans,andsky-highheels.Hertancomesfromabottle,andI’mguessingherhaircolordoes,too,butthat’sreallyallIcanfindwrongwithher.Itrytoimagineherintwentyyears—vaguelyleathery,longrednailscurledaroundaDietCokecan—butfornowshe’sstillbeautifulinasemi-unattainablewaythatmakesmefeeldumpyincomparison.It’seasytoimagineherandEthansidebysideonaChristmascard,wrappedinJ.Crewcardigansandleaningagainsttheirbroadstonefireplace.
“Maybewecangotodinnerorsomething,”shesays,andit’ssohalf-heartedthatIactuallybarkoutalaughbeforeEthanreachesformyhandandsqueezesit.
“Yes,”Isay,tryingtocover.“Dinner.Wehaveiteveryday.”
Ethanlooksdownatme,andIrealizehe’snotglaring;he’sfightingalaugh.
Billypipesupwithasubjectchange,similarlycoolonthedinneridea.“Howlongareyouhere?”
Iabsolutelycannotstomachanotherfakedinner,soIgoforbroke.WhenEthananswers“Tendays,”IwrapmyarmsaroundhiswaistandgazeupathimwithwhatIhopeisasexyfrown.
“Actually,pumpkin,I’dfeelterribleifweplannedsomethinganddidn’tmakeit.Youknowwebarelymadeitoutoftheroomtoday.”Iwalksomeflirtyfingersuphischest,toyingwiththebuttonsonthefrontofhisshirt.Wow,itisaveritablewallofmuscleunderthere.“Ialreadysharedyoutonight.Ican’tmakeanypromisesfortomorrow.”
Ethanraisesasinglebrow,andI’mwonderingifthetensioninhisexpressionisbecausehecannotfathomhavingsexwithmeonce,letalonecontinuallyforanentireafternoon.Pullinghimselfoutofthementalhellscape,hepressesaswiftkisstothetipofmynose.“Youhaveapoint.”
HeturnstoSophie.“Maybewecanplayitbyear?”
“Absolutely.Youstillhavemynumber?”
“I’dimagineso,”hesayswithabemusednod.
Sophietakesacoupleofstepsbackward,andhergoldheelsclicklikekittenclawsonthesidewalk.“Okay,well.congrats,andIhopeweseeyouagain!”
WithatugshepullsBilly,andtheycontinuetheirwaydownthepath.
“Itwasnicemeetingyou,”IcalloutbeforeturningbacktoEthan.“Imightmakeaterriblewifeoneday,butatleastweknownowthatIcanfakeit.”
“Iguesseveryoneneedsagoal.”
Pullingmyhandsoffhisbody,Ishakethemoutatmysides.“God,whydidyoukissmynose?Wedidnotdiscussthat.”
“Imusthavethoughtyouwereokaywithitonceyoustartedfeelingmeup.”
Iscoffatthat,settingoffagainatanacceptabledistancebehindthemtowardthehotel.“Igotusoutofanotherdinner.Ifitweren’tformeyou’dspendtomorrownightacrossfromMalibuBarbieandDarylDixon.You’rewelcome.”
“Yourbossleavesandnowmyex-girlfriendishere?”EthantakesouthisfrustrationinaseriesoflongstridesIhavetojogtokeepupwith.“Haveweearnedaspotintheeighthcircleofhell?Nowwehavetokeepthisstupidactuptheentiretime.”
“Ihavetoadmittofeelingpartlyresponsiblehere.IfsomethingisgoingwellandI’maround,lookout.Winafreetrip?Bossshowsup.Bossgoeshome?Accomplice’sex-girlfriendappearsoutofnowhere.”
Hepullsopenthedoor,andIammetwithablastofrefrigeratedairandthesoothinggurgle-bubbleofthelobbyfountain.
“I’mablackcat,”Iremindhim.“Abrokenmirror.”
“Don’tbeludicrous.”Hepullsoutanotherpenny—stillnotthatone—andflicksitoffhisthumbintothesplashingwater.“Luckdoesn’tworkthatway.”
“Pleaseexplaintomehowluckreallyworks,Ethan,”Idrawl,followingthetrajectoryofthecoin.
Heignoresthis.
“Anyway,”Isay,“thisresortishuge.It’slike,fortyacresandhasnineswimmingpools.Ibetwedon’tevenseeSimbaandDarylagain.”
Ethanletsareluctanthalfsmileslipfree.“You’reright.”
“OfcourseIam.ButI’malsoexhausted.”Iwalkacrossthelobbyandpressthebuttontocalltheelevator.“Isayweturninandstartfreshinthemorning.”
Thedoorsopen,andwestepinside,sidebysidebutsofarapart.
Ipressthebuttonforthetopfloor“AndthankstoMissSophieIhaveagiantbedwaitingforme.”
Hisexpressionreflectedintheglassdoorsisalotlesssmugthanitwasafewhoursago.chapterseven
Oncewe’rebackintheroom,itfeelsabouthalfasbigasitdidwhenwearrived,andI’msurethatisentirelyduetothefactthatclothingwillbecomingoffsoonaswegetreadyforbed.Iamnotready.
Ethantosseshiswalletandkeycardontothecounter.Iswearthesoundoftheitemslandingonthemarbleislikeacymbalcrash.
“What?”hesaysinresponsetomydramaticstartle.
“Nothing.Just.”Ipointtohisstuff.“Jeez.”
HestaresatmeforalingeringbeatbeforeseemingtodecidewhateverI’mgoingonaboutisn’tworthit,andturnstotoehisshoesoffnearthedoor.Iwalkacrosstheroom,andmyfeetonthecarpetsoundlikebootscrunchingthroughknee-highgrass.Isthisajoke?Iseverysoundamplifiedinhere?
WhatifIhavetogotothebathroom?DoIturnontheshowertomufflethesounds?Whatifhefartsinhissleep,andIcanhearit?
WhatifIdo?
OhGod.
It’slikeadeathmarch,followinghimdowntheshorthallwaytothebedroom.Oncethere,EthanwordlesslymovestoonedresserandImovetotheother.It’sthequietroutineofacomfortablemarriedcouple,madesuperweirdbytheknowledgethatwe’rebothreadytocrawloutofourskinsfromthetension
ThemassivebedloomsliketheGrimReaperbetweenus.
“Idon’tknowifyou’venoticed,butthere’sonlyoneshower,”hesays
“Idid,yeah.”
Whilethesecondbathroomissimple,withatoiletandsmallsink,themasterbathroomispalatial.TheshowerisasbigasmykitchenbackinMinneapolis,andthebathtubshouldcomewithadivingboard.
Idigthroughmydrawer,prayingthat,inthemaddashpackingpost-weddingpocalypse,Irememberedpajamas.Ireallydidn’trealizeuntilnowhowmuchtimeIspendinnothingbutmyunderwearathome.
“Doyouusuallydoitatnight?”heasks.
Ispinaround.“Uh,pardon?”
Ethansighsthedeep,wearysighofalong-sufferingghoul.“Shower,Oscar.”
“Oh.”Ipressmypajamastomychest.“Yes.Ishoweratnight.”
“Wouldyouliketogofirst?”
“SinceIhavethebedroom,”Isay,“whydon’tyougofirst?”Lestthissoundtoogenerous,Iadd,“Thenyoucangetoutofmyspace.”
“Suchacaretaker,you.”
Hestepsaroundmetothebathroom,closingthedoorbehindhimwithasolidclick.Evenwiththebedroom’sbalconydoorsshut,Icanhearthesoundofthetidecomingin,thewavescrashingagainsttheshore.Butit’snotsoloudthatIdon’talsoheartherustleoffabricasEthanundressesanddropshisclothesontothebathroomfloor,hisfootstepsashewalksbarefootacrossthetile,orthesoftgroanhemakeswhenhemovesunderthewarmsprayofwater.
Flustered,Ijogimmediatelytothebalconydoorandstepoutsideuntilhe’sfinished.Honestly,I’donlywanttolistentothatifhewasdrowninginthere.
???
I’MSUREETHANWOULDLOVEtohearitwasalongnightformeandIbarelyslept,butmybedisfuckingamazing.Sorryaboutthecouch,dude.
Infact,I’msorestedandrejuvenatedthatIwakeupconvincedthisrunning-into-people-from-our-real-lifethingisn’tacatastrophe.It’sfine!We’refine.SophieandBillydon’twanttoseeusanymorethanwewanttoseethemandareprobablystayingallthewayontheothersideoftheresortanyway.AndtheHamiltonsarecheckingouttoday.Weareintheclear.
Asluckwouldhaveit,werunintotheHamiltonsonourwaytobreakfast.Apparentlythefriendshipwasdeeplysolidifiedlastnight:theygiveuseachatightembrace.aswellastheirpersonalcellnumbers.
“Iwasseriousaboutthatspousesclub,”MollytellsEthanconspiratorially.“Wehavefun,ifyouknowwhatImean.”Shewinks.“Giveusacallwhenyou’rehome.”
Theyturnbacktothereceptiondesk,andwewaveasweweavethroughthecrowdtowardtherestaurant.Ethanleansdown,mutteringinashakyvoice,“Ireallydon’tknowwhatshemeansbyfun.”
“Couldbeinnocent,likeabunchofwivesdrinkingmerlotandcomplainingabouttheirhusbands,”Itellhim.“OritcouldbeFriedGreenTomatoescomplicated.”
“‘FriedGreenTomatoescomplicated’?”
Inodsomberly.“Agroupofwomenlookingattheirlabiawithhandmirrors.”
Ethanlookslikeheisliterallyfightingtheurgetosprintdownthecurveddrivewayandintotheocean.“Ithinkyou’reenjoyingthistoomuch.”
“God,Iamtheworst,right?EnjoyingMaui?”
Wecometoastopinfrontofthehostessstand,giveourroomnumber,andfollowthewomantoasmallboothtowardtheback,nearthebuffet.
Ilaugh.“Abuffet,honey!Yourfave.”
Oncewe’reseated,Ethan—runningonslightlylesssleepthanIam—glaresatthemenu,clearlyworkingtoburnaholeinit.Iwanderovertothebuffetandfillmyplatewithgianthunksoftropicalfruitandallmannerofgrilledmeats.WhenIreturn,Ethanhasapparentlyorderedàlacarteandiscradlingalargecupofblackcoffeeinhisenormoushands.Hedoesn’tevenacknowledgemyreturn.
“Hi.”
Hegrunts.
“Allthatfoodupthere,andyouorderedsomethingoffthemenu?”
Sighing,hesays,“Idon’tlikebuffets,Olive,JesusChrist.Afterwhatwewitnessedtwodaysago,I’dthinkyou’dagreewithme.”
ItakeabiteofpineappleandampleasedtoseehimcringewhenIspeakwithmymouthfull:“Ijustlikehasslingyou.”
“Icantell.”
God,heissuchagrouchinthemorning.“Seriously,though,youthinkI’menjoyingthisvacationtoomuch?Doyouevenhearyourself?”
Heputsthemugdowncarefully,likeit’stakingeveryounceofcontrolhehastonotuseitforviolentmeans.“Wedidwelllastnight,”hesayscalmly,“butthingsjustgotawholelotmorecomplicated.Myex-girlfriend—withwhomIshareanumberofmutualfriends—thinkswearemarried.Thewifeofyournewbosswantstohavelabia-hand-mirrortimewithme.”
“Thatwasjustonepossibility,”Iremindhim.“CouldbethatMolly’sversionoffunisaTupperwareparty.”
“Youdon’tthinkthisiscomplicated?”
Ishrugathim,turningtheblamebackwhereit’sdeserved.“Tobehonest,youweretheonewhohadtogoandberidiculouslycharminglastnight.”
Hepickshismugbackupandblowsacrossthesurface.“Becauseyouaskedmetobe.”
“Iwantedyoutobesociopathcharming,”Isay.“Toocharming,sothatafterwardspeoplelookbackandthink,‘Youknow,Ididn’tgetitatthetime,buthewasalwaystooperfect.’Thatsortofcharming.Not,like,self-deprecatingandcute.”
HalfofEthan’smouthturnsup,andIknowwhat’scomingbeforeitlaunches:“YouthinkI’mcute.”
“Inagrossway.”
Thismakeshimsmilewider.“Cuteinagrossway.Okay.”
Thewaiterbringshisfood,andwhenIlookup,IseethatEthan’ssmilehasfallenandhe’sstaringovermyshoulder,hisfaceashen.Withafrown,heblinksdowntohisplate.
“Justrememberedthatbaconatrestaurantsistenthousandtimesmorelikelytocarrysalmonella?”Iask.“Ordidyoufindahaironyourplateandthinkyou’regoingtocomedownwithlupus?”
“Oncemoreforthepeopleintheback:Beingcarefulaboutfoodsafetyisn’tthesameasbeingahypochondriacoranidiot.”
IgivehimaSurething,Captainsalute,butthenithitsme.He’sfreakingoutaboutsomethingotherthanhisbreakfast.Iglancearound,andmypulserockets:SophieandBillyhavebeenseateddirectlybehindme.Ethanhasanunobstructedviewofhisexandhernewfiancé.
ForasfrequentlyasIwanttoopen-handsmackEthan,Icanalsoappreciatehowmuchitwouldsucktocontinuallyrunintoyourexwhenthey’recelebratingtheirengagementandyou’reonlypretendingtobemarried.Irememberrunningintomyex-boyfriendArthurthenightIdefendedmydissertation.Wewereouttocelebrateme,andmyaccomplishment,andtherehewas,theboywhodumpedmebecausehe“couldn’tbedistractedbyarelationship.”Hehadhisnewgirlfriendononearmandthemedicaljournalhe’djustbeenpublishedinintheotherhand.Mycelebratorymoodevaporated,andIleftmyownpartyaboutanhourlatertogohomeandbingeanentireseasonofBuffy.
Atinybloomofsympathyunfurlsinmychest.“Ethan—”
“Couldyoutrychewingwithyourmouthclosed?”hesays,andthebloomisannihilatedbyanuclearblast.
“Fortherecord,it’sveryhumidhere,andIamcongested.”Ileanin,hissing,“TothinkIwasstartingtofeelsorryforyou.”
“Forbeingcuteinagrossway?”heasks,proddingathisplate,glancingovermyshoulderagainandthenquicklyzeroinginonmyface.
“Forthefactthatyourexisattheresortwithusandsittingrightbehindme.”
“Isshe?”Helooksupanddoesaterriblejobofbeingsurprisedtoseeherthere.“Huh.”
Ismirkathim,eventhoughhestudiouslyavoidsmygaze.Withthetinyhintofvulnerabilityjustattheedgesofhisexpression,thebloomofsympathyreturns.“What’syourfavoritebreakfastfood?”
Hepauseswithabiteofbaconhalfwaytohismouth.“What?”
“Comeon.Breakfastfood.Whatdoyoulike?”
“Bagels.”Hetakesthebite,chewsandswallows,andIrealizethat’sallI’mgoingtoget.
“Bagels?Forreal?Ofallthechoicesintheworld,you’retellingmeyourfavoritebreakfastfoodisabagel?YouliveintheTwinCities.Canweevengetagoodbagelthere?”
Heapparentlythinksmyquestionisrhetorical,becauseheturnsbacktohismeal,completelyhappytoblinkthoselashesatmeandremainnonverbal.IrealizewhyIhatehim—hefood-andfat-shamedme,andhasalwaysbeenamonosyllabicprick—butwhatishisdealwithme?
Igivefriendlyonelasttry:“Whydon’twedosomethingfuntoday?”
EthanlooksatmelikeI’vejustsuggestedwegoonamurderspree.“Together?”
“Yes,together!Allofourfreeactivitiesarefortwopeople,”Isay,waggingafingerbackandforthbetweenus,“andasyoujustpointedout,we’resupposedtobeactingmarried.”
Ethanhasretreatedintohisneck,shouldershunched.“Couldyoumaybenotyellthatacrosstherestaurant?”
Itakeadeepbreath,countingtofivesothatIdon’treachacrossthetableandpokehimintheeye.Leaningin,Isay,“Look.We’redeepinthislyinggametogethernow,sowhynotmakethemostofit?That’sallI’mtryingtodo:enjoywhatIcan.”
Hestaresatmeforseveralquietbeats.“That’sawfullyupbeatofyou.”
Pushingbackfromthetable,Istand“I’mgoingtogoseewhatwecansignupfortod—”
“She’swatching,”hecutsintightly,quicklyglancingpastme.“Shit.”
“What?”
“Sophie.Shekeepslookingoverhere.”Inapanic,hiseyesmeetmine.“Dosomething.”
“Likewhat?”Iasktightly,startingtopanic,too.
“Beforeyougo.Idon’tknow.We’reinlove,right?Just—”Hestandsabruptlyandreachesformyshoulders,jerkingmeacrossthetableandplantinghismouthstifflyonmine.Oureyesremainopenandhorrified.Mybreathistrappedinmychest,andIcountoutthreeeternalbeatsbeforeweburstapart.
Hefixesaconvincinglylovingsmileonhisface,speakingthroughhisteeth.“Ican’tbelieveIjustdidthat.”
“I’mgoingtogogarglebleachnow,”Itellhim.
NodoubtitwastheworstversionofanEthanThomaskiss,anditwasstillnotterrible.Hismouthwaswarm,lipssmoothandfirm.Evenwhenwewerestaringateachotherinhorror,hestilllookednicethatcloseup.Maybeevennicerthanhedoesfromadistance.Hiseyesaresoinsanelyblue,hislashesarelongtothepointofabsurdity.Andhe’swarm.Sowar—
Mybrainisshort-circuiting.Shutup,Olive.
OhmyGod.Pretendingwe’remarriedmeanswemighthavetodothatagain.
“Great.”Hestaresatme,eyeswide.“Great.Seeyoubackintheroominafew.”
???
THEIDEAOFBUILDINGAhousefromthegrounduphasalwaysterrifiedme,becauseIknowI’mnotapersonwhocaresaboutdetailssuchasdoorknobsanddrawerpullsandstonepavers.ItwouldbetoomanychoicesthatIsimplydon’tcareaboutatall.
Lookingatthelistofactivitiesfeelsalittlelikethis.Wehavetheoptionofparasailing,zip-lining,four-wheeling,snorkeling,takinghulakahikolessons,enjoyingacouple’smassage,andmuch,muchmore.Honestly,I’dbefinewithanyofthemButTrent,theovereageractivitiesplanner,staresatmeexpectantly,readytoink“my”nameintotheschedulewhereverIdesire.
TheissueathandisreallywhichactivitywouldmakeEthanscowltheleast?
“Agoodplacetostart,”Trentsaysgently,“mightbeaboatride?OurboatgoesouttotheMolokiniCrater.It’sverycalmoutthere.You’llgetlunchanddrinks.Youcouldsnorkel,ortrySnuba—aneasymixofsnorkelingandscubadiving—oryoucouldevenjuststayontheboatifyoudon’twanttogetinthewater.”
Anoptiontositdownandshutupinsteadofjointhefun?DefinitelyabonusintheholsterwhenIhaveEthanintow.“Let’sdothat.”
Withgusto,TrententersEthanandAmiThomasontotheboatmanifestandtellsmetobebackdownstairsatten.
Upstairs,Ethanisalreadyinhisboardshortsbuthasn’tyetputonashirt.Astrange,violentreactionwormsthroughmewhenheturnsandIseethathehasactualmusclesonhismuscles.Adarksmatteringofhairoverhisbroadchestcausesmyhandtocurlintoafist.“Howdareyou.”
IknowI’vesaiditoutloudwhenEthanglancesatmewithasmirkandthentugshisshirtoverhishead.Immediately,withtheabsoutofmysight,thefireofhateinmylowerbellyisextinguished.
“What’stheplan?”heasks.
Igivemyselfthreesilentsecondstolingeronthememoryofhisnakedtorsobeforeanswering,“We’retakingaboattoMolokini.Snorkeling,drinks,etcetera.”
Iexpecthimtorollhiseyesorcomplain,buthesurprisesme.“Really?Cool.”
Warily,IleavethisdeceptivelyupbeatversionofSataninthelivingroomtogogetmysuitonandpackabag.WhenIemerge,Ethanvaliantlyrefrainsfrommakingacrackaboutmysuitbarelycontainingmyboobsormycover-upbeingfrumpy,andwemakeourwaydowntothelobbyandfollowdirectionsouttoatwelve-seatervanwaitingatthecurb.
Withonefootproppedtoclimbin,EthanpullsupshortsoquicklythatIcollidewithhisback.Again.
“Areyouhavinganother—?”
Ethanshutsmeupwithahandshootingback,grippingmyhip.AndthenIhearit:thehigh-pitchednails-on-a-chalkboardvoiceofSophie.
“Ethan!YouandOlivearecomingsnorkeling?”
“Wesureare!Whatawildcoincidence!”Heturnsaroundandmurdersmewitheyeballdaggers,beforesmilingashefacesforwardagain.“Shouldwejusthopinthebackthere?”
“Sure,Ithinkthoseseatsaretheonlyopenones.”Billy’svoicesoundsprettygiddy,andwhenEthanduckstoclimbin,Iseewhy.
Thereareeightpeopleseatedinthevanalready,andonlytheverybackrowisempty.Ethanissotallhehastopracticallyarmycrawltogetthroughthegauntletofbagsandhatsandseatbeltscrisscrossingthepath.Withslightlymoreease,Isettleinbesidehimandglanceover.Surprisingly,thefactthathelooksabsolutelymiserabledoesn’tfillmewithabjectjoyasexpected.Ifeel.guilty.Iclearlychosepoorly.
ButthisisOliveandEthanwe’retalkingabout;defensivenessisthefirstreactionoutofthegate.ThisfeelslikeCheapAirplaneTicketFiasco,version2.0.“Youcouldhavepickedtheactivity,youknow.”
Hedoesn’tanswer.Forsomeonewhowassoconvincinglynewlywedlastnighttocoverformylie,hesureissurlywhenwehavetodoittocoverforhis.Hemustreallyhatetobeindebtedtome.
“Wecandosomethingelse,”Itellhim.“There’sstilltimetoleave.”
Again,hesaysnothing,butthendeflatesalittlebesidemewhenthedriverclosesthedoublevandoorsandgivesusallathumbs-upthroughthewindow,indicatingwe’rereadytoheadout.
Gently,IelbowEthan.Heclearlydoesn’tgetthatit’smeantasaHanginthere,tiger!becauseheelbowsmeback.Jerk.Ielbowhimagain,hardernow,andhestartstoshifttoreturnitagainbutIevadeit,turningtodigmyknucklesintohisribs.IdidnotexpecttofindEthan’shystericalticklespot,andheletsoutadeafening,high-pitchedshriekthatIswearmakesmemomentarilydeaf.Itissostartlingthattheentirevanturnstofigureoutwhatthehellwe’redoinginthebackseat.
“Sorry,”Isaytothem,andthenquietertohim,“That’sasoundIhaven’theardamanmakebefore.”
“Canyounotspeaktome,please?”
Ileanin.“Ididn’tknowshewascoming.”
Ethanslideshisgazetome,clearlyunconvinced.“I’mnotgoingtokissyouagain,justincasethat’swhatyouwerethinkingthiswouldleadto.”
Whowhatnow?Thejackass.Gapingathim,Iwhisper-hiss,“Iwouldhonestlyratherlickthebottomofmyshoethanhaveyourmouthonmineagain.”
Heturnsback,lookingoutthewindow.Thevanpullsawayfromthecurb,thedrivercuesupthemellowislandmusic,andIamreadyforatwenty-minutenapwhen,infrontofus,ateenagerpullsabottleofsunscreenoutandbeginsliberallysprayingitdownonearmandthentheother.EthanandIareimmediatelylostinacloudofoilyfumeswithnowindowordoor.
HeandIexchangealookofdeepsuffering.“Pleasedon’tspraythatinthevan,”Ethansays,withagentleauthoritythatdoessomethingweirdandwavytomybreathing
Theteenturns,givesusaflat“Oops,sorry,”andthentucksthebottlebackinherbackpack.Besideher,herfatherisabsorbedinaPopularSciencemagazine,completelyoblivious.
Thefogofsunscreenslowlyclearsand,asidefromtheviewofSophieandBillymakingouttworowsaheadofus,weareabletoseeoutthewindows,totheviewofthesnakingshorelinetoourleft,thebrilliantgreenmountainstoourright.Apulseoffondnessfillsme.
“Mauiissopretty.”
IfeelEthanturntolookdownatme,butdon’tmeethiseyes,incasehe’sconfusedthatmywordsweredeliveredwithoutinsulttohim.HisfrowncouldruinthisflashofhappinessI’mfeeling.
“Itis.”Idon’tknowwhyIalwaysexpectanargumentfromhim,butitcontinuallysurprisesmewhenIgetagreementinstead.Andhisvoiceissodeep;italmostfeelslikeaseduction.Oureyesmeet,andthendartapart,butunfortunatelyourattentionlandsdirectlyaheadofus,betweentheheadsofthesunscreenteenandherfather,whereSophieandBillyareschmoopy-murmuringtoeachotherwiththeirfacesonlymillimetersapart.
“Whendidyoutwobreakup?”Iaskquietly.
Helookslikehe’snotgoingtoanswer,butthenexhales.“Aboutsixmonthsago.”
“Andshe’salreadyengaged?”Iletoutasoftwhistle.“Yeesh.”
“Imean,asfarassheknowsI’mmarried,soIcan’tbetoohurtaboutit.”
“Youcanbeashurtasyouwant,butyoudon’thavetoseemhurt,”Isay,andwhenhedoesn’tanswer,IrealizeI’vehitthenailonthehead.He’sstrugglingtopretendtobeunaffected.
“Forwhatit’sworth,”Iwhisper,“Billylookslikeatool.He’stheunderstudyversionofReedus,withoutanyofthescary-sexycharm.Thisversionjustlooksoily.”
Ethangrinsdownatmebeforeseemingtorememberthatwedon’tlikeeachother’sfaces.Hissmilestraightens.“They’rejustuptheremakingout.Thereare,like,eightotherpeopleinthisvan.Icanseetheirtongues.It’s.gross.”
“IbetEthanThomashasneverbeeninappropriatelikethat.”
“Imean,”hesays,frowning,“IliketothinkIcanbeaffectionate,butsomethingsareinfinitelybetterwhentheyhappenbehindcloseddoors.”
Heatengulfswhateverwordsremaininmyhead,andInodinagreement.TheideaofEthandoingunknown,hotthingsbehindcloseddoorsmakeseverythinginsidemybodyturntogoo.
Iclearmythroat,relievedwhenIlookaway,takeadeepbreath,andthegoodissolvesaway.DearOliveTorres:ThisisEthan.Heisnotswoony.
Ethanleansinalittle,catchingmyeye.“Youthinkyoucanbringittoday?”
“‘Bringit’?”
“Thefake-wifegame.”
“What’sinitforme?”Iask.
“Hm.”Ethantapshischin.“HowaboutIdon’ttellyourbossyou’realiar?”
“Okay.Fair.”BrainstormingwhatIcandotohelphimwinthenebulousBestNewPartnerwarIsuspectwe’refightingwithSophieandBilly,Ileanin,meetinghimhalfway.“Idon’twanttogetyourhopesuporanything,butIlookreallygreatinthisbikini.There’snorevengelikebeingwithsomeonenewwhohasagreatrack.”
Hislipcurls.“Whatanempowering,feministstatement.”
“Icanappreciatemybodyinabikiniandstillwanttosetfiretothepatriarchy.”Ilookdownatmychest.“Whoknewwhatalittlemeatonmyboneswoulddo?”
“Isthatwhatyoumeantatcheck-in?Aboutlosingyourjobandbaking?”
“Yeah.I’mastress-baker.”Ipause.“Andeater.Imean,obviouslyyouknowthat.”
Hestaresatmeforacoupleofloadedsecondsbeforehesays,“You’vegotajobnow.Yourbakingdayscanbebehindyou,ifyouwant.”WhenIlookup,heglancesquicklyawayfrommyboobs.IfIdidn’tdefinitivelyknowbetter,ImightthinkhewashopingI’dkeepupthebakingjustalittlewhilelonger
“Yes,Ihaveajob,assumingIcankeepit.”
“Wegotthroughlastnight,didn’twe?”hesays.“You’llkeepthejob.”
“Andmaybetherack,too.”
Hereddensalittle,andthesignofhisdiscomfortgivesmelife.Butthenhiseyesdoanothertinydipoverthefrontofmycover-up,almostlikehecan’thelphimself.
“YouhadnoproblemlookingintheSkittledress.”
“Tobefair,itwasabitlikeyouwerewearingafluorescentlightbulb.Itdrewtheeyes.”
“Afterallthis,I’mgoingtohavesomethingmadeforyououtofthatdress,”Ipromisehim.“Atie,maybe.Somesexybriefs.”
Hechokesalittle,shakinghisheadAfterafewbeatsofsilence,heconfides,“IhadactuallyjustbeenrememberingthatSophiealmostgotimplantswhenweweretogether.Shealwayswantedbigger..”Hemimescuppingboobs.
“Youcansayit,”Itellhim.
“Saywhat?”
“Breasts.Boobs.Jugs.Knockers.”
Ethanwipesahanddownhisface.“Jesus,Oliver.”
Istareathim,daringhimtolookatme.Finally,hedoes,andhelookslikehewantstocrawloutofhisskin.
“Soshewantedimplants,”Iprompt
Henods.“Ibetsheregretsnotgettingthembackwhenshewasenjoyingmypaychecks.”
“Well,thereyougo.Yourfakenewwifehasgreatboobs.Beproud.”
Hesitating,hesays,“Butithastobemorethanthat.”
“Whatdoyoumean,‘morethanthat’?I’mnotgoingtowearathong.”
“No,just—”Herunsanexasperatedhandthroughhishair.“It’snotonlyaboutmebeingwithsomeonehotnow.”
Wait,what?Hot?
Herollsonlikehehasn’tsaidanythingcompletelyshocking.“Youhavetopretendtolikeme,too.”
Acurlfallsoverhiseyejustafterhe’ssaidthis,turningthemomentintoaHollywoodshotthatcompletelymocksme.Asmallsetoffireworks—onlyasparkler,Iswear—goesoffbeneathmybreastbone,becauseheissogoddamnpretty.Andseeinghimvulnerable,evenforasecond,issodisorientingitmakesmeimagineatimewhenIcanlookathisfaceandnothateit.
“Icanpretendtolikeyou.”Ipause,addingoutoftheself-preservationinstinct,“Probably.”
Somethingsoftensinhisdemeanor.Hishandmovescloser,curlingaroundmine,warmandencompassing.Myreflexistojerkaway,butheholdsmesteady,gently,andsays,“Good.Becausewe’regoingtohavetobealotmoreconvincingonthatboat.”chaptereight
Theboatinquestionisenormous,withawidelowerdeck,aplushindoorareawithabarandgrill,andanupperrooftopdeckinthefull,brightsun.Whiletherestofthegroupfindsplacestostowtheirbagsandgetsnacks,EthanandIheadstraightforthebar,grabdrinks,andmakeourwayuptheladdertotheemptyrooftop.I’msuretheemptinesswon’tlast,butthetinyreprievefromfeelinglikewe’reperformersonstageisawesome.
It’swarm;Itakeoffmycover-up,Ethantakesoffhisshirt,andthenwe’rebothhalf-nakedtogether,inbroaddaylight,drowninginsilence.
Welookatanythingbuteachother.SuddenlyIwishweweresurroundedbypeople.
“Niceboat,”Isay.
“Yeah.”
“How’syourdrink?”
Heshrugs.“Cheapliquor.It’sfine.”
Windwhipsmyhairintomyface,andEthanholdsmyvodkatonicwhileIpullarubberbandoutofmybagandtiemyhairup.Hiseyesdartfromthehorizontomyredbikiniandbackagain.
“Isawthat,”Isay.
Hesipshisdrink.“Sawwhat?”
“Youcheckedoutmychest.”
“OfcourseIdid.It’slikehavingtwootherpeopleupherewithus.Idon’twanttoberude.”
Asifoncue,aheadpopsupatthetopoftheladder—fuckingRejectDarylDixon,ofcourse,followedcloselybySophie.IswearIcanhearEthan’ssoulscream
Theyclimbontothedeck,holdingtheirownmargaritasinplasticcups.
“Hey,guys!”Sophiesays,approaching.“Ohmygod.Isn’titgorge?”
“Sogorge,”Iagree,ignoringEthan’shorrifiedexpression.Nowayhe’sjudgingmeanyharderthanI’mjudgingmyself.
Westandtogether,theworld’sunlikeliestfoursome,andIattempttodiffusetheuncomfortabletensionbetweenus.“So,Billy.Wheredidyoutwomeet?”
Billysquintsupintothesun.“Atthegrocerystore.”
“BillyisassistantmanagerataCubFoodsinSt.Paul,”Sophiesays.“Hewasstockingschoolsupplies,andIwasbuyingpaperplatesacrosstheaisle.”
Iwait,assumingtherewillbemore.Thereisn’t.
ThesilencestretchesonuntilEthancomestotherescue.“TheoneonClarenceor—?”
“Huh-uh,”shehumsaroundherstraw,shakingherheadassheswallows.“Arcade.”
“Idon’tusuallygothere,”IsayMoresilence.“IliketheoneonUniversity.”
“Goodproducedepartmentatthatone,”Ethanagrees.
Sophiestaresatmeforafewseconds,andthenlooksatEthan.“ShelookslikeDane’sgirlfriend.”
Mystomachdropsandinsidemycranium,mybraintakestheshapeofMunch’sTheScream.OfcourseSophiewouldhavemetAmi.TogetherEthanandIareabove-averageintelligentpeople,sowhyarewesostupidtogether?
Isendhimabarrageofpanickedbrainwaves,buthejustnodscalmly.“Yeah,they’retwins.”
Billyletsoutanimpressed“Dude,”butSophieisclearlylessexcitedbythepotentialforhomemadepornos.
“Isn’tthatsortofweird?”sheasks.
IwanttoshoutYES—VERY—ALLOFTHISISVERYWEIRD,butmanagetoclampmymouthtomystrawanddrainabouthalfofmydrink.Afteralongpauseofhisown,Ethansays,“Notreally.”
Aseagullfliesoverhead.Theboatrocksaswepushthroughthewaves.IreachthebottomofmydrinkandloudlysuckwateryairthroughmystrawuntilEthanelbowsmeintheside.Thisissopainful.
Eventually,SophieandBillydecideit’stimetositandmaketheirwaytoapaddedbenchdirectlyacrossthedeckfromwherewe’restanding—closeenoughthatwe’reveryclearlysharingthesamegeneralspace,butfarenoughthatwenolongerhavetoattemptconversation,orhearwhateverdisgustingthingBillyiscurrentlywhisperinginSophie’sear.
Ethanclampsanarmaroundmyshoulderinaclunky,roboticsignofWeAreAlsoAffectionate;again,hewassomuchsmootherlastnight.Withease,Ireachup,slidingmyhandaroundhiswaist.I’dforgottenhewasshirtless,andmypalmmakescontactwithhisbareskin.Ethanstiffensalittlebesideme,soIleaninfully,strokinghishipbonewithmythumb.
I’dintendedtodoittoneedlehim,butactually.it’snice.
Hisskinissun-warmed,firm,distracting.
It’slikehavingasinglebiteofsomethingdelicious;Iwanttogobackformore.Thepointofcontactwheremythumbtoucheshishipissuddenlythehottestpartofmybody.
Withacheesygrowl,BillypullsSophieontohislap,andshekicksherfeetup,gigglyandpetite.AfterastretchofsilenceduringwhichIreallyshouldhaveseenitcoming,Ethansits,too,jerkingmedownontohisthighs.Ifallfarlessgracefully—farlesspetite—andletoutaburpwhenIland.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iaskundermybreath.
“God,Idon’tknow,”hewhispers,pained.“Justgowithit.”
“Icanfeelyourpenis.”
Heshiftsbeneathme.“Thiswassomucheasierlastnight.”
“Becauseyouweren’tinvested!”
“Whyissheuphere?”hehisses.“There’sanentireboat!”
“Youguysaresocuteoverthere,”Sophiecalls,smiling.“Sochatty!”
“Sochatty,”Ethanrepeats,smilingthroughclenchedteeth.“Can’tgetenoughofeachother.”
“Totally,”Iadd,andmakeitevenworsebygivingadoublethumbs-up.
SophieandBillylooksonaturalatthis.We,however,donot.ItwasonethingintherestaurantlastnightwithMr.Hamilton,wherewehadourownchairsandsomedegreeofpersonalspace.Buthere,mysunscreen-slickedlegsslidealloverEthan’s,andhehastoadjustmeagain.I’msuckinginmystomachandmythighsareshakingfromtherestraintit’stakingtonotleanmyfullweightintohim.Asifsensingthis,hepullsmebackintohischest,tryingtogetmetorelax
“Isthiscomfortable?”hemumbles.
“No.”IamacutelyconsciousofeverydoughnutI’veevereateninmyentirelife.
“Turnsideways.”
“What?”
“Like..”Heguidesbothofmylegstotheright,helpingmecurlintohischest.“Better?”
“Imean..”Yes.Itisbetter.“Whatever.”
Hestretcheshisarmsacrossthedeckrailingand,gamely,Iwrapanarmaroundhisneck,tryingtolooklikesomeonewhoenjoysfrequentsexwithhim.
WhenIglanceup,he’sjustlookingupfrommychestagain.
“Verysubtle.”
Helooksaway,blushes,andanelectriczaptravelsdownmyneck.“Theyareprettygreat,youknow,”hefinallyadmits.
“Iknow.”
“TheydolookbetterinthisthanintheSkittledress.”
“Youropinionissoimportanttome.”Ishift,wonderingwhyI’msoflushed.“AndIcanfeelyourpenisagain.”
“Ofcourseyoucan,”hesays,withatinywink.“It’dbehardnotto.”
“Isthatasizejoke,orabonerjoke?”
“Uh,definitelyasizejoke,Orville.”
Itakeagulpofmydrinkandthenexhaledirectlyintohisfacesothathewincesfromthefumesofcheapvodka.
Squinting,hesays,“You’rearealseductress.”
“Ihearthatalot.”
Hecoughs,andIswearIseeEthanThomasbattlingagenuinesmile.
AndIgetit.AsmuchasIhatehim.IthinkI’mstartingtolikeus.
“Haveyoueversnorkeled?”Iask.
“Yes.”
“Doyoulikeit?”
“Yes.”
“Areyouusuallybetteratconversationsthanyouarewithme?”
“Yes.”
Wefallbackintosilence,butwearesoclose,andacrossthedeckthere’sonlythewetsoundsofSophieandBillymakingout.EthanandIcan’tnottalk.“What’syourfavoritedrink?”
Helooksatmewithpainedpatience,growling,“Dowehavetodothis?”
InodovertowardEthan’sexandhernewfiancé,wholooklikethey’reonlysecondsawayfromdryhumping.“Wouldyouratherwatchthem?Orwecouldmakeout.”
“Caipirinhas,”heanswers.“You?”
“I’mamargaritagirl.Butifyoulikecaipirinhas,there’saplaceacouplemilesfrommyapartmentthatmakesthebestonesI’veeverhad.”
“Weshouldgothere,”hesays,andit’sclearhe’sdoneitwithoutthinkingbecausewebothimmediatelyletouttheha-ha-haoftheOop,that’snotgoingtohappen!laugh.
“Isitweirdthatyou’renotasunpleasantasIinitiallythought?”heasks.
Iusehismonosyllabictacticagainsthim.“Yes.”
Herollshiseyes.
OverEthan’sshoulder,theMolokiniCratercomesfullyintoview.Itisvibrantgreen,crescent-shaped,andstunning.EvenfromhereIcanseethattheclearbluebayisdottedwithboatsjustlikeours.
“Look.”Inodtothehorizon.“Wearen’tlostatsea.”
Heletsoutaquiet“Wow.”Andthere,forasinglebreath,wegiveintoareallylovelymomentofenjoyingsomethingtogether.UntilEthandecidestoruinit:“Ihopeyoudon’tdrownoutthere.”
Ismiledownathim.“IfIdo,thehusbandisalwaysasuspect.”
“Itakebackmy‘unpleasant’comment.”
Anotherbodyjoinsourawkwardfoursomeontheroof:theSnubainstructor,Nick,asun-streakedblondguywithovertannedskinandbrightwhiteteeth,whocallshimselfan‘islandboy’butIamfairlysurewasborninIdahoorMissouri.
“WhoplanstoSnuba,andwhoplanstosnorkel?”heasksus.
ItossahopefullookacrossthedecktoSophieandBilly—whohavemercifullydetachedtheirfacesfromeachother—buttheybothenthusiasticallyshout,“Snuba!”soIguesswe’restillstuckwiththemunderwater.
Weconfirmthatwe’replanningtoSnuba,too,andEthanhaulsmeupwithapparentlyzeroeffort,usingarmsthatareremarkablystrong.Hesetsmedownanarm’slengthawayinfrontofhim,standingbehindme.It’sabeatbeforeheseemstorememberweshouldstayinnewlywedlevelsofconstantcontact,sohefoldshisarmsacrossmychest,jerkingmybackagainsthisfront.Ifeelthewaywe’rebothalreadyclammyintheheat,andhowweimmediatelysuctiontogether.
“Gross,”Igroan.“You’resosweaty.”
Hisforearmsmashesagainstmyboobs
Istepbackward,ontohisfoot.“Oops,”Ilie,“sorry.”
Heslideshischestagainstmyback,backandforth,intentionallycontaminatingmewithhismansweat.
Heistheworst.sowhyamIfightingtheurgetolaugh?
Sophiesidlesupnexttohim.“Gotyourluckypenny?”sheasks,andIwishIcouldexplainthetinyjealousmonsterthatrearsupinsidemychest.Sheisengagedtosomeoneelse.Thoselittleinsidejokesandcoupleysecretsdon’tbelongtoheranymore.
BeforeIcansayanything,Ethanslideshisarmdown,overmychestandacrossmyfrontsohe’spressingaflattenedhandtomystomach,holdingmetight.“Don’tneeditanymore.I’vegother.”
Sophieletsoutahighlyfake“Aww!”andthenlooksatme.Andwow,itisaloaded,silentexchange.Inourheadswearehavingadance-off.Sheissizingmeup,maybetryingtoconnectthedotsfromhowEthanwentfromdatinghertomarryingme.
Iassumethatsheendedthings;otherwiseheprobablywouldn’tcaresomuchaboutmakingashowofhavinganewwife.AndIwonderwhetherthedistasteIreadonherfaceisaboutEthanmovingonsoeasilyorabouthimmovingonwithsomeonewhoisnothinglikeheratall.
Ileanbackagainsthiminanimpulsiveshowofsolidarity,andIwonderifheregistersthathishipsarchsubtlyagainstmybackinresponse:anunconsciousthrust.Insidemytorso,thereisanexplosionoftraitorousbutterflies.
AfewsecondshavepassedsincehesuggestedI’mhisgoodluckcharm,anditfeelstoolatetosaythatit’sreallytheopposite—thatwithmyluck,I’llgetasliveronthesideoftheboat,bleedintotheocean,andattractaschoolofhungrysharks.
“Youallreadytohavesomefun?”Nickasks,breakingintomyfrozensilence.
Sophieletsoutasororitygirl“Hellyeah!”andhigh-fivesBilly.IexpectaforcedfistbumpfromEthaninresponse,soamsurprisedwhenIfeelhislipscomeinforasoftlandingonmycheek.
“Hellyeah!”hewhispersintomyear,laughingquietly.
???
NICKGETSUSSUITEDUPandfittedwithflippersandfacemasksThemasksonlycoveroureyesandnoses;becausewe’llbegoingdeeperthanwithregularsnorkeling,we’realsogivenmouthpieceswecanbreathethroughthatareattachedviaalongtubetoanoxygentankonasmallraftthatwe’llpullalongthesurfaceaboveusasweswim.Eachtank-raftcombinationcansupporttwodivers,soofcourseEthanandIarepairedup—whichalsomeansweareessentiallytetheredtogether.
Whenweslideintothewaterandreachforouroxygennozzles,IcanseeEthaninvestigatingthemouthpiece,tryingtoestimatehowmanypeoplehaveslobberedonitandhowreliablyit’sbeencleanedbetweenclients.Afterglancingatmeandregisteringmycompletelackofsympathyforhishygienecrisis,hetakesadeepbreathandshovesitin,givingNickanambivalentthumbs-up.
Wetakeholdoftheraftthatcarriesoursharedoxygentank.Withafinalglanceateachotheroverthetop,weduckdown,disorientedforabeatofbreathingthroughtherespiratorandseeingthroughthemask—and,truetohabit,wetrytoswiminoppositedirections.Ethan’sheadpopsupabovethewater’ssurfaceagainandhejerkshisheadbehindhimimpatiently,indicatingwhichwayhewantstogo.
Igivein,lettinghimlead.Underwater,Iamimmediatelyconsumedwitheverythingaroundus.Theblack,yellow,andwhitekihikihidartby.Cornetfishslicethroughourfieldofvision,sleekandsilver.Thecloserwegettothereef,themoreunrealitbecomes.Witheyeswidebehindhismask,Ethanpointstoabrilliantschoolofreddishsoldierfishasitpassesanotherlargemassofexuberantyellowtang.Bubbleseruptfromhisrespiratorlikeconfetti.
Idon’tknowhowithappens,butoneminuteI’mstrugglingtoswimfasterandthenextEthan’shandisaroundmine,helpingmemovetowardasmallclusterofgray-dottedo’ili.It’ssoquietdownhere;I’vehonestlyneverfeltthissortofweightless,silentcalm,andcertainlyneverinhispresence.Soon,EthanandIareswimmingcompletelyinsync,ourfeetkickinglazilybehindus.Hepointstothingshesees;Idothesame.Therearenowords,noverbaljabs.Thereisnodesiretosmackhimorpokehiseyesout—thereisonlytheconfusingtruththatholdinghishanddownhereisn’tjusttolerable,it’snice.
???
BACKNEARTHEBOAT,WEemergesoggyandbreathless.Adrenalinedancesthroughme—IwanttotellEthanweshoulddothiseverysingledayofthevacation.Butassoonasourmasksarepulledupandwearehelpedfromthewater,realityreturns.Oureyesmeetandwhateverhewasplanningtosaydiesasimilardeathinhisthroat.
“Thatwasfun,”Isay,simply.
“Yeah.”Hepeelsoffthewetsuitvest,handingittoNick,andthenstepsforwardwhenheseesI’mstrugglingwithmyzipperI’mshakingbecauseit’schilly,soIlethimunzipme,andworkveryhardtonotnoticehowbighishandsareandhowcapablyheworksthestuckzipperfree.
“Thanks.”Ibend,rummaginginmybagformydryclothes.Iamnotcharmedbyhim.Iamnot.“WhereshouldIchange?”
Nickwinces.“Weonlyhaveonebathroom,andittendstogetprettycrowdedwhenwestarttoturnbackandeveryone’scocktailsarehittingtheirbladder.I’dsuggestheadingdowntheresoon—butyoutwoarewelcometogointogether.”
“To.gether?”Iask.Ilookdowntowardthenarrowstepstothebathroomandnoticethatpeoplearealreadystartingtogathertheirthingstogouseitthemselves.
“Nothingyouhaven’tseenbefore!”Ethansayswithawickedgrin.
Isendamilitiaofharmfulthoughtsathim.
Hesoonregretsbeingsocavalier.Thebathroomisthesizeofabroomcloset.Averysmallbroomclosetwithaveryslipperyfloor.Wecrowdintothesoggyspace,clutchingourclothestoourchest.Downhere,itfeelsliketheboatisinthemiddleofastorm;wearevictimsofeverytinylurchandlean.
“Youfirst,”hesays.
“Whymefirst?Yougofirst.”
“Wecanbothchangeandgetthisoverwith,”hesays.“Youfacethedoor,I’llfacethewall.”
IhearthewetsplatofhisboardshortsjustasI’mworkingmybikinibottomdownmyshiveringlegs,andamhighlyawarethatEthan’sbuttisprobablyonlyinchesawayfrommine.IexperienceamomentofpureterrorwhenIimaginehowmortifyingitwouldbeforourcold,wetbuttcheekstotouch
Alittlepanicky,Iscrambleformytowelandslip,myrightfootcomingoutfromundermeinashallowpoolofwaternearthesink.Myfoothooksonsomething,Ethanshoutsinsurprise,andIrealizethatsomethingwasEthan’sshin.Afterhishandslapsloudlyagainstthewall,heloseshisbalance,too.
Mybackhitsthefloor,andwithasplat,Ethanlandsontopofme.Ifthere’spain,Iamtoodistractedbythechaostoregisterit,andthereisahorrifiedbeatofsilencewherewebothrealizewhat’shappened:wearecompletelynaked,wet,andclammy,andatangleofnakedarmsandlegsandpartsinthemostmortifyinggameofTwisteranyonehaseverexperienced.
“OhmyGod,getoffme!”Ishriek.
“Whatthefuck,Olive?Youknockedmeover!”
Heattemptstostand,butthefloorisslipperyandinmotion,whichmeanshekeepsfallingbackdownonmeashescramblestofindfooting.Oncewe’reup,it’sclearwebothwanttodieofmortification.Wegiveuponthefacingthedoororfacingthewallinfavorofspeed;thereisnowayforustodothiswithoutflashesofbuttandboobsandallmannerofdanglythings,butatthispoint,wedon’tcare.
Ethanscramblestopullupacleanpairofshorts,butittakesmeaboutfourtimesaslongtostutter-pullmyclothingupovermywetbody.Thankfully,he’sdressedrelativelyquicklyandturnsaway,pressinghisforeheadagainstthewall,eyesclosedasIwrestlewithmybraandshirt.
“Iwantyoutoknow,”ItellhimasItugitdownmytorso,“andI’msureyouhearthisalot,butthatwasbyfartheworstsexualexperienceofmylife.”
“Ifeellikeweshouldhaveusedprotection.”
IturntoconfirmwhatI’veheardinhisvoice—repressedlaughteragain—andcatchhimsmiling,stillfacingthewall.
“Youcanturnaroundnow,”Isay.“I’mdecent.”
“Areyoueverreally,though?”heasks,turningandblushingandgrinningatme.It’salottotakein.
Iwaitfortheannoyedreaction,butitdoesn’tarrive.Instead,Irealizewithsurprisethatseeinghisrealsmileaimedmywayfeelslikegettingapaycheck.“Youmakeagoodpoint.”
HeseemsequallysurprisedthatIhaven’tsnarkedbackathim,andreachespastmetounlockthedoor.“I’mfeelingqueasy.Let’sgetoutofhere.”
Weemerge,redfacedforreasonsthatareimmediatelymisinterpreted,andEthangetsahigh-fivefromacoupleofmenwe’venevermet.Hefollowsmetothebar,whereIorderamargaritaandheordersagingerdrinktohelphisstomach.
Oneglanceathimtellsmethathewasn’tkiddingaboutfeelingqueasy—helooksgreen.Wefindseatsinside,outofthesunbutnearawindow,andheleansforward,pressinghisheadtothepane,tryingtobreathe.
Iblamethismomentrighthere,becauseitcreatesatinyfractureinhisroleasnemesis.Atruenemesisdoesn’tshowweakness,andforsure,whenIreachouttorubhisback,atruenemesiswouldn’tleanintoit,moaninginquietrelief.Hewouldn’tshiftsothatIcouldreachhimmoreeasily,andhecertainlywouldn’tscootdownthebenchandresthisheadinmylap,staringupatmeingratitudewhenIgentlyrakemyfingersthroughhishair,soothing.
EthanandIarestartingtobuildmoreofthesegoodmomentsthanbad;itsendsthebalanceswingingintoanunfamiliardirection.
AndIthinkIreallylikeit.
Whichmakesmeincrediblyuneasy.
“Istillhateyou,”Itellhim,pushingadarkcurlofhairoffhisforehead.
Henods.“Iknowyoudo.”chapternine
Oncewe’rebackonsolidground,mostofhiscolorreturns,butratherthanpushourluck—orriskhavingtodinewithSophieandBilly—wedecidetoturninearlyandorderroomservice.
Althoughhetakeshisdinnerinthelivingroom,andItakemineinthebedroom,itoccurstomesomewherebetweenmyfirstbiteofravioliandmyfourthepisodeofGLOWthatIcouldhavesentEthanbacktothehotelandgoneoutmyself.Icouldhavedoneahundreddifferentthingswithoutevenleavingthehotelgrounds,andyethereIam,backintheroomatnightbecauseEthanhadaroughday.AtleastnowI’monlyaroomawayifheneedssomeone
Needssomeone.likeme?IwanttopointatandteasemyselfandthisnewtendernessforthinkingEthanwouldseekmeoutasasourceofcomfortatanytimeotherthanwhenwe’retrappedonaboat.Hewouldn’t,andthat’snotwhatwe’rehereforanyway!
ButassoonasIstartshadowboxingmyselfintoamentalfrothaboutneedingtoenjoymyvacationandnotslideintolikingthisguywhohasonlybeenquasi-friendlytomeinparadisebutneverinreallife—Irememberwhatitfeltlikeunderwateratthecrater,howhisfrontfeltallalongmybackuponthedeckoftheboat,howitfelttorunmyfingersthroughhishair.Myheartbeatgoesallhaywirethinkingabouthowhisbreathingstartedtosyncwiththepaceofmynailsscratchinglightlyoverhisscalp.
AndthenIburstoutlaughingrememberingournakedTwisterintheBathroomofDoom.
“Areyoulaughingaboutthebathroom?”hecallsfromtheotherroom.
“Iwillbelaughingaboutthebathroomuntiltheendoftime.”
“Same.”
Ifindmyselfsmilinginthedirectionofthelivingroom,andrealizethatstayingfirmlyonTeamIHateEthanThomasisgoingtobemoreworkthanitmaybeworth.
???
MORNINGCOMESTOTHEISLANDinaslow,blurrybrighteningofthesky.Yesterdaymorning,thecoolovernighthumiditywasgraduallyburnedoffbysunshine,butnottoday.Today,itrains.
It’schillyasIshuffleoutofthebedroominsearchofcoffee.Thesuiteisstillprettydark,butEthanisawake.He’sstretchedalongthefulllengthofthesofabedwithathickbookopeninfrontofhim.Hewiselyleavesmealoneuntilthecaffeinehashadtimetoworkitswayintomysystem.
Eventually,Imakemywayintothelivingroom.“Whatareyourplanstoday?”I’mstillinmypajamasbutfeelingmuchmorehuman.
“You’relookingatit.”Heclosesthebook,restingitonhischest.TheimageisimmediatelyfiledinmybraincyclopediaasanEthanPosture,andsubcategorizedasSurprisinglyHot.“Butpreferablyatthepoolwithanalcoholicbeverageinmyhand.”
Inunison,wefrownatthewindow.Fatdropsshakethepalmfrondsoutside,andrainrunssoftlydownthebalconydoor.
“Iwantedtopaddleboard..”Iwilt.
Hepicksthebookbackup.“Doesn’tlooklikethat’llhappen.”
Myknee-jerkinstinctistoglareathim,buthe’snotevenlookingatmeanymore.IgrabthehotelguidebookfromtheTVstand.TherehastobesomethingIcandointherain;EthanandIarecapableofspendingtimetogetheroutside,buttherewouldbebloodshedifwebothhungaroundinthissuiteallday.
Ipullthephonecloserandopenthedirectoryinfrontofme.Ethanmovestomysideandreadsthelistofactivitiesovermyshoulder.Hispresenceisalready—suddenly—likeanenormouscastofheatmovingaroundtheroomandnowhe’sstandingshouldertoshoulderwithme.MyvoicegrowswaveryasIreaddownthelist.
“Zip-lining.helicopter.hike.submarine.kayaking.off-roading.bikeride..”
HestopsmebeforeIcangettothenextone.“Ooh.Paintball.”
Ilookathimblankly.Paintballalwaysstruckmeassomethingthatgun-obsessed,testosterone-fueledfratboysdid.Ethandoesn’treallyseemthetype.“You’veplayedpaintball?”
“No,”hesays,“butitlooksfun.Howhardcanitbe?”
“Thatfeelslikeadangeroustaunttotheuniverse,Ethan.”
“Theuniversedoesn’tcareaboutmypaintballgame,Olive.”
“MydadgavemeaflaregunoncewhenItookaroadtripincollegewithaboyfriend.Itwentoffinthetrunkandsetourluggageonfirewhilewewereswimminginariver.WehadtogotoalocalWalmarttobuyclothes—keepinmind,allwehadwereourwetbathingsuits—anditwasthistinytown,likeseriouslyjustpopulatedbythecreepypeoplefromDeliveranceIhaveneverfeltmorelikesomeone’sfuturedinnerthanIdidwalkingthroughtheaislestryingtofindnewunderwear.”
Hestudiesmeforseverallongseconds.“Youhavealotofstorieslikethis,don’tyou?”
“Youhavenoidea.”Iglanceatthewindowagain.“Butseriously.Ifit’sbeenrainingallnight,won’titbeallmuddy?”
Heleansagainstthecounter.“Soyou’donlywanttobecoveredinpaint,butdefinitelynotmud?”
“Ithinkthegoalistonotgetcoveredinpaint.”
“Youareincapableofnotarguingwithme,”hesays,“anditissoaggravating.”
“Weren’tyoujustarguingwithmeaboutbeingcoveredinpaintbutnotmud?”
Hegrowls,butIseehimfightingasmile.
Ipointacrosstheroom.“Whydon’tyougoovertotheminibarandworkoutthataggravation?”
Ethanleansbackin,closerthanbefore.Hesmellsunbelievablygood,anditisunbelievablyannoying.“Let’sdopaintballtoday.”
Turningthepage,Ishakemyhead.“Hardnope.”
“Comeon,”hewheedles.“Youcanpickwhatwedoafter.”
“Whydoyouevenwanttohangoutwithme?Wedon’tlikeeachother.”
Hegrins.“Youareclearlynotthinkingaboutthisstrategically.You’llgettoshootmewithpaintpellets.”
Avideogamemontagescrollsthroughmyhead:mygunspittingoutastreamofSkittle-greenpaintballs,greensplatterslandinginburstsallacrossthefrontofEthan’svest.Andfinally,thekillshot—agiantgreensplatrightoverhisgroin.“Youknowwhat?I’llgoaheadandmakeussomereservations.”
???
THEHOTELARRANGESABUStotakeustothepaintballfield.Westopinfrontofanindustrialbuildingfrontedbyaparkinglotononeside,withforestallaround.Itisn’toutrightraining—morelikeasteady,mistydrizzle—andohyeah,it’smuddy.
Inside,theofficeissmallandsmellslike—youguessedit—dirtandpaintAbigandtallwhitedudeinahybridfloral/camouflageHawaiianshirtwithanametagthatreadsHOGGstandsbehindthecountertowelcomeus.HeandEthandiscussthevariousoptionsforplay,butI’mbarelylistening.Abovethecounterthewallsarecoveredwithhelmetsandbodyarmor,gogglesandgloves.Aposterhangsnexttoanotherdoorandreads:STAYCALMANDRELOAD.Therearealsoguns,lotsofthem.
It’sprobablyabadtimetorealizeI’veneverheldagunbefore,letaloneshotone.
HoggmovestoabackroomandEthanturnstome,pointingtoawallwithalistofnamesandrankings—playerswhohavewonsomesortofpaintballwar“Thisseemsprettyintense.”
Ipointtotheothersideoftheroom,andasignthatsaysWARNING:MYBALLSMIGHTHITYOUINTHEFACE.“ThewordIthinkHoggwasgoingforis‘classy.’”Ipickupanemptypaintballgunmadetoresemblearifle.“Doyourememberthatscenein9to5whereJaneFondaisdressedinsafarigearandgoesthroughtheofficelookingforMr.Hart?”
“No,”Ethansays,tiltinghisheadupatthegearonthewalls,sweetlyoblivious.“Why?”
Igrinwhenhelooksdownatme.“Noreason.”Pointingtothewall,Iask,“Haveyouevershotagunbefore?”
Minnesotahassomeprettyavidsporthuntersandwhoknows?MaybeEthanisoneofthem.
Henodsandthenfallssilentwhilemybraingoesdownacrazytunnel,imaginingthetragedyofazebraheadmountedonhislivingroomwall.Oralion.OhmyGod,whatifhe’soneofthosehorriblepeoplewhogoestoAfricaandhuntsrhinos?
MyfuryatthisversionofEthanThomasstartstoreturninitsfull,heatedglory,butthenheadds,“JustattheshootingrangewithDaneacoupletimes,though.It’smorehisthingthanmine.”Hedoesadoubletakewhenheseesmyface.“What?”
Ipullinahulkinglungfulofair,realizingIjustdidwhatIalwaysseemtodo,whichistoimmediatelydiveintotheworst-casescenario.“Beforeyouclarifiedthat,Ihadanimageofyouinasafarihatwithyourfootproppeduponadeadgiraffe.”
“Stopthat,”hesays.“Gross.”
Ishrug,wincing.“It’sjusthowI’mbuilt.”
“Justgettoknowme,then.Givemethebenefitofthedoubt.”
Hesaysthesewordscalmly,almostoffhand,andthenfrownsdownatabeltbuckleonthecounterthatreads,Thefirstruleofgunsafety:Don’tpissmeoff.
ButI’mstillreelinginthedeepenormityofhisinsight—andhowexposedIsuddenlyfeel—whenHoggreturns,thickarmsloadedwithgear.Hehandsuseachapairofcamouflagecoverallsandgloves,ahelmet,andasetofgoggles.Thegunisplasticandverylightweight,withalongbarrelandaplastichopperaffixedtothetopwherethepaintballsarestored.Buteverythingelseisheavy.Itrytoimaginerunninginthisandcan’t.
Ethaninspectshisgearandleansoverthecounter.“Doyouhaveany,uh,protection?”
“Protection?”
ThetopsofEthan’searsturnred,andIknowinthatmomentthatheisamindreaderandsawmyimaginarygreenpaintsplatsalloverhisjunk.HestaresatHoggmeaningfully,butHoggjustshakeshisheadwithalaugh.
“Don’tworryaboutit,bigfella.You’regonnabejustfine.”
Ipathisshoulder.“Yeah,bigfella.I’vegotyourback.”
???
THEGAMETAKESPLACEONfiveacresofdenseforest.Dozensofwoodensheltersleadoffintothetreeline,bundlesoflogsarescatteredforcover,andafewbridgesstretchoverhead,spanningthelengthbetweentrees.We’reinstructedtogather,alongwithotherplayers,beneathalargemetaloverhang.Therainismoremistthandropletsnow,butthere’sadampchillintheairandIfeelmyshouldersinchuptowardmyearsbeneathmybaggycoveralls.
Ethanglancesdownatme,andfrombehindhisgoggleshiseyescrinkleinmirth.He’sbarelystoppedlaughingsinceIsteppedoutofthechangingstall.
“Youlooklikeacartoon,”hesaid
“Imean,it’ssuperflatteringonyou,too,”Ishootback.Butasfarascomebacksgo,it’sprettylimpgiventhatEthanactuallydoeslookprettygreatinthecamopaintballget-up.Hehasthissexy-soldierthinghappeningthatIdidnotexpecttobeinto,butapparentlyIam.
“ElmerFudd,”headds.“Huntingwabbits.”
“Wouldyoushutup?”
“You’relikeapatheticPrivateBenjamin.”
“PrivateBenjaminisalreadyprettypathetic.”
Ethanisgleeful.“Iknow!”
Blessedbe:ourinstructor,Bob,approaches.Heisshortbutsolidandpacesinfrontofourgrouplikeageneralreadyinghistroops.OneimmediatelygetsthesensethatBobwantedtobeacopbutitdidn’tworkout.
Hetellsuswe’llbeplayingaversioncalleddeathmatch.Itsoundsbothgreatandterrible:ourgroupofabouttwentyissplitupintotwoteams,andweessentiallyjustrunaroundshootingeachotheruntileveryoneononeteamiseliminated.
“Eachplayerhasfivelives,”hesays,eyeingeachofusshrewdlyashepasses.“Onceyou’rehityou’lllockyourweapon,attachthebarrelcover,andreturntocamp.”Hepointstoasmallbuildingwrappedinprotectivefencing;ascribbledsignreadingBASECAMPhangsoverhead.“You’llstaythereuntilyourwaittimeisup,thenreturntothegame.”
Ethanleansin,hiswordswarmagainstmyear.“NohardfeelingswhenItakeyououtimmediately,right?”
Ilookupathim.Hishairisdampfromthehumidity,andhe’sbitingbackagrin.He’sliterallybitinghislip,andforabreathymomentIwanttoreachoutandtugitfree.
ButI’mmostlygladhedoesn’tassumethatwe’regoingtobeworkingtogethertoday.
“Don’tthreatenmewithagoodtime,”Isay.
“Therearesomehardandfastrules,”Bobcontinues.“Safetyfirst.Ifyouthinkit’sdumb,don’tdoit.Goggleson,always.Anytimeyourgunisnotinuse,youaretokeepitlockedandthebarrelcovered.Thatincludesifyou’vebeenhitandareexitingthefield.”
SomeoneclapsjustbehindmeandIlookovermyshoulder.Atall,heavysetbaldmanisnoddingalongwiththeinstructorandpracticallyvibratingwithenergy.He’salsoshirtless,whichseems.odd,andwearingautilitybeltwithcanistersofextrapaintandsupplies.IshareaquizzicallookwithEthan.
“You’veplayedbefore?”Ethansurmises.
“AsoftenasIcan,”themansays.“Clancy.”Hereachesout,shakingEthan’shand.
“Ethan.”Hepointstome,andIwave.“Hername’sSkittle.”
“Actually,”Isay,glaringupathim,“it’s—”
“Youmustbeprettygoodthen,”EthansaystoClancy.
Clancyfoldshairyarmsacrosshischest.“I’vehitprestigeinCallofDutyabouttwelvetimes,soI’llletyoubethejudge.”
Ican’tresist.“Ifyoudon’tmindmyasking,whyaren’tyouwearingashirt?Won’tithurttobehit?”
“Thepainispartoftheexperience,”Clancyexplains.Ethannodslikethismakesahellofalotofsense,butIknowhimwellenoughbynowtoseetheamusementinhiseyes.
“Anytipsfornewbies?”Iask.
Clancyisclearlydelightedtohavebeenasked.“Usethetrees—they’rebetterthanflatsurfacesbecauseyoucanmovearoundthem,realslinky.Forlookout,alwaysbendatthewaist.”Heillustratesforus,poppingupanddownafewtimes.“KeepstherestofyourbodyprotectedDon’t,andyou’llknowwhatitfeelsliketotakeapowerballtoyourbiscuitsattwohundredandseventyfeetpersecond.”Heblinksovertome.“Nooffense,Skittle.”
Iwavehimoff.“Noonelikesbeinghitinthebiscuits.”
Henods,continuing.“Mostimportant,never,evergoprone.Hittheground,andyou’readeadman.”
PeoplearoundusclapasBobfinishesandbeginstodivideusupintotwoteams.EthanandIdeflatealittlewhenwebothenduponTeamThunder.Thismeans,sadly,Iwillnotbehuntinghimthroughtheforest.Hisdismaydeepenswhenheseestheopposingteam:asmallhandfulofadultsandagroupofsevenfourteen-year-oldboyshereforabirthdayparty.
“Holdup,”Ethansays,motioningintheirdirection.“Wecan’tshootatabunchofkids.”
Onewithbracesandabackwardcapstepsforward.“Who’reyoucallingakid?Youscared,Grandpa?”
Ethangrinseasily.“Ifyourmomdroveyouhere,you’reakid.”
Hisfriendssnickerinthebackground,egginghimon.“Actually,yourmomdrovemehere.Tookmydickinthebackseat.”
Atthis,Ethanletsoutaburstinglaugh.“Yeah,thatsoundsexactlylikesomethingBarbThomaswoulddo.”Heturnsaway.
“Lookathimhidinglikealittlebitch,”thekidsays.
Bobstepsinandlevelsaglareattheteen.“Watchyourmouth.”HeturnstoEthan.“Saveitforthefield.”
“IthinkBobjustgavemepermissiontotakeoutthatlittleasshole,”Ethansaysinwonder,loweringhisgoggles.
“Ethan,he’sscrawny.”
“MeansIwon’twastemuchammoonhim.”
Iputahandonhisarm.“Youmaybetakingthisalittletooseriously.”
HegrinsoveratmeandwinkssoIcanseehe’sjusthavingfun.SomethingfluttersaliveinmyribcagePlayfulEthanisthenewestevolutioninmytravelingpartner,andIamcompletelyhereforit.
???
“IFEELLIKEISHOULDhavepaidcloserattentiontotherules.”Ethanispantingatmyside,mud-streakedandsplatteredwithpurplepaint.Webothare.Spoileralert:paintballfuckinghurts.“Isthereatimelimitforthisgame?”HepullsouthisphoneandstartsGoogling,groaningwhentheserviceisspotty.
Irollmyheadbackagainstthewoodenshelterandsquintupintothesky.Ourteam’soriginalplanwastodivideupandhidenearthebunkers,assigningafewdefenderstostayintheneutralterritoryandcoveradvancingattackers.I’mnotreallysurewherethatplanwentwrong,butatsomepointtherewasanill-advisedambushandthereareonlylikefourofusremaining.Everyoneontheopposingteam—includingalltheteenageshit-talkers—isstillin.
NowEthanandIaretrappedbehindadilapidatedwall,beinghuntedfromallsidesbychildrenwhoarewaymorecutthroatthanweexpected.“Aretheystilloutthere?”Iask.
Ethanstretchestoseeoverthebarricadeandimmediatelydropsbackdownagain.“Yeah.”
“Howmany?”
“Ionlysawtwo.Idon’tthinktheyknowwhereweare.”Hecrawlstolookouttheothersideandquicklygivesup.“Oneofthemisprettyfaraway,theotherisjusthangingoutonthebridge.Isaywewait.Someonewillcomebyanddrawhisattentionsoonerorlater,andwecanrunforthatstandoftreesoverthere.”
Afewsecondspass,filledwiththesoundofdistantscreamsandtheoccasionaleruptionofpaintballs.ThisisaboutasfarfromtherealworldasIcanimagine.Ican’tbelieveI’menjoyingmyself.
“Maybeweshouldtrytooutrunthem,”Isay.Idon’trelishthethoughtoftakingmorepaintballstotheass,butit’scoldanddampwherewe’rehunkered,andmythighsarestartingtodotheshakycrampdance.“Wemightbeabletogetaway.You’resurprisinglynotterribleatthis.”
Heglancesatmeandthensquintsbackouttothewoods.“Youhavetheagilityofaboulder.Weshouldprobablystayput.”
Ireachoutandkickhim,tickledwhenhegruntsinfeignedpain.
Becausewe’rejustsquattinghere,hidingfromagroupofaggressivepubescentboys,I’mtemptedtostrikeupconversation,buthesitate,immediatelysecond-guessingmyself.DoIwanttogettoknowEthan?IusedtothinkIalreadyknewthemostimportantthingabouthim—thathe’sajudgmentaldudewhohasathingagainstcurvywomeneatinghigh-calorieStateFairfood.ButI’vealsolearnedthat:
1.Hedoessomethingmath-yforwork.
2.Tomyknowledge,he’shadonegirlfriendinthetimesinceIfirstmethimtwoandahalfyearsago.
3.Heisverygoodatfrowning(butalsogreatatsmiling).
4.Heinsistshedoesn’tmindsharingfood;hejustdoesnoteatatbuffets.
5.Heoftentakeshisyoungerbrotheronexpensive,adventuroustrips.
Therestofthelistslidesintomythoughts,uninvited.
6.He’sactuallyhilarious.
7.Hegetsseasick.
8.Heseemstobemadeofmuscle;mustconfirmsomehowthatthereareactualorgansinsidehistorso.
9.He’scompetitivebutnotinascaryway.
10.Hecanbeexceedinglycharmingifbribedwithacomfortablemattress.
11.HethinksIalwayslookgreat.
12.Herememberedmyshirtfromthethirdtimewemet.
13.FromwhatIcantell,hehasanicepenisinthosepants.
WhyamIthinkingaboutEthan’spenis?Supergross.
Obviously,IcameherewithwhatIthoughtwasaprettyclearpictureofwhohewas,butIhavetoadmitthatversionseemstobecrumbling.
“Well,sincewe’vegotsometimetokill,”Isay,andmovefrommoreofasquattoasit,“canIaskyouatotallypersonalandinvasivequestion?”
Herubsatthespotonhisleg.“Ifitmeansyouwon’tkickmeagain,yes.”
“WhathappenedbetweenyouandSophie?Also,howdidyoutwohappeninthefirstplace?Sheisvery.hmm,90210.Andyouseemmore..”
Ethancloseshiseyesandthenleanstolookoutsidethebarricade.“Maybeweshouldjustrunforit—”
Ipullhimback.“Wehaveonemorelifeeach,andI’musingyouasahumanshieldifweleaveTalk.”
Hetakesadeepbreathandblowshischeeksoutasheexhales.“Weweretogetherforabouttwoyears,”hesays.“IwaslivinginChicagoatthetime,ifyouremember,andwenttotheTwinCitiestovisitDane.Istoppedbyhisofficeandsheworkedinthesamebuilding.Isawherintheparkinglot.She’ddroppedaboxfullofpapers,andIhelpedherpickthemup.”
“Thatsoundslikeanincrediblyclichédbeginningtoamovie.”
Tomysurprise,helaughsatthis.
“Andyoumovedthere?”Iask.“Justlikethat.”
“Itwasn’t‘justlikethat.’”Hereachestowipesomemudfromhisface,andIlikethegesture,thewayIcantellitcomesfromvulnerabilityduringthisconversationmorethanvanity.Inaweirdburstofawareness,IregisterthisisthefirsttimeI’mreallytalkingtoEthan.“Itwasafterafewmonths,andI’dhadastandingjobofferintheCitiesforawhile.OnceIwasbackinMinneapolis,wedecided,youknow,whynot?Itmadesensetomoveintogether.”
IpullmyjawclosedonceIregisterthatit’sbeenhangingopen.“Wow.IttakesmeafewmonthstodecideifIlikeanewshampooenoughtostickwithit.”
Ethanlaughs,butit’snotaparticularlyhappysoundandmakessomethingsqueezeinsidemychest.
“Whathappened?”Iask.
“Shedidn’tcheatoranythingthatIknowof.WegotanapartmentinLoringPark,andthingsweregood.Reallygood.”Hemeetsmyeyesforabriefpulse,almostlikehe’snotsureI’llbelievehim.“IwasgoingtoproposeontheFourthofJuly.”
Iliftabrowinquestionatthespecificdate,andhereachesuptoscratchhisneck,embarrassed.“Ithoughtitmightbecooltodoitwhilethefireworksweregoingoff.”
“Ah,agrandgesture.I’mnotsureIwouldhavepeggedyouasthetype.”
Helaugh-groans.“Igotthatfar,ifthat’swhatyou’rewondering.Afriendwashavingabarbecue,andwewentovertohisplace,hungoutforawhile,thenItookheruptotheroofandproposed.Shecriedandwehugged,butitregisteredlaterthatsheneveractuallysaidyes.Afterwardwewentbackinsideandstartedtohelphimcleanup.Sophiesaidshewasn’tfeelinggreatandwouldmeetmeathome.WhenIgotthere,shewasgone.”
“Wait,youmeanlikegonegone?”
Henods.“Yep.Allherstuffwasgone.She’dpackedupandleftmeanoteonadry-eraseboardinourkitchen.”
Mybrowscometogether.“Adry-eraseboard?”
“‘Idon’tthinkweshouldgetmarried.Sorry.’That’swhatshesaid.Sorry.Likeshewastellingmeshesplatteredtomatosauceonmyfavoriteshirt.YouknowIcleanedthatboardahundredtimesandthosedamnwordsneverwentaway?AndIdon’tmeanthatinametaphoricalsense.SheusedaSharpie,notadry-erasemarker,anditliterallystainedthewordsintotheboard.”
“Oof.That’sawful.Whynotjustburntheboard?”
Heshrugswithaself-deprecatinggrin.“I’mcheap.”
Thismakesmelaugh,butIsoberquicklyatthethoughtofbeingdumpedthatway.“Yougrand-gestured,andshedry-erase-boardedyou?God,nooffense,butSophieisagiantdick.”
Thistimewhenhelaughs,it’slouder,lighter,andthesmilereacheshiseyes.“Nonetaken.Itwasadickthingtodo,evenifI’mgladshedidit.Ithoughtwewerehappy,butthetruthis,ourrelationshiplivedonthesurface.Idon’tthinkitwouldhaveworkedmuchlonger.”Hepauses.“Ijustwantedtobesettled,maybe.IthinkIgrand-gesturedforthewrongperson.IrealizeIneedsomeoneIcantalkto,andshedoesn’treallyliketogotoodeep.”
Thisdoesn’tentirelymeshwithmyimageofhimasajet-settingdaredevil,butthenagain,neitherdidthevisionofhimontheplane,clutchingthearmrests.NowIhavenewEthanFactstoaddtothelist.
14.He’sfrugal.
15.He’sintrospective.
16.Asmuchashewouldprobablydenyitnow,he’saromantic.
IwonderwhethertherearetwoverydifferentsidesofEthan,orI’vejustneverlookedmuchdeeperthanwhatDaneandAmihavetoldmeabouthimallthistime.
RememberingthewayhefrozewhenhesawSophieonourwaybacktothehotel,Iask,“Hadyouseeneachothersincethen?Before—”
“BeforedinnerwithCharlieandMolly?Nope.ShestilllivesinMinneapolis.Iknowthat.ButIneversawheraround.Idefinitelydidn’tknowshewasengaged.”
“Howdoyoufeelaboutit?”
Hetapshisfingerontheedgeofastickandstaresoffintothedistance.“I’mnotsure.YouknowwhatIrealizedontheboat?WebrokeupinJuly.Shesaidtheymetwhilehewasstockingschoolsupplies.That’sAugust?MaybeSeptember?Shewaitedamonth.Iwassuchamessafter—likebigtime.IthinkapartofmethoughtwemightactuallygetbacktogetheruntilIsawheratthehotel,anditallhitmeatoncethatIwasbeingtotallydelusional.”
“I’msorry,”Isay,simply.
Henods,smilingattheground.“Thanks.Itsucked,butI’mbetternow.”
Betternowdoesn’tnecessarilymeanoverher,butI’mkeptfromaskingforclarificationwhenshotsringthroughtheair,toocloseforcomfort.Webothjump,andEthanpusheshimselfuptopeekovertheedgewhileIstumbletostandnexttohim.“What’shappening?”
“I’mnotsure..”Hemovesfromonesideoftheenclosuretotheother,watching,hisfingerrestingonthetrigger.
Iclutchmyownguntomyside,andmyheartispoundinginmyears.It’sjustagame,andIcouldtechnicallysurrenderatanytime,butmybodydoesn’tseemtoknowthatitisn’treal.
“Howmanyshotsdoyouhaveleft?”heasks.
Iwasalittletrigger-happyatthestartofthegame,firingoffinrandomburstswithoutreallyfocusingonaim.Mygunfeelslight.“Notmany.”Ipeekinsidethehopper,wherefouryellowballsrollaroundintheplasticcanister.“Four.”
Ethanopensuphisownhopperanddropstwomoreintomygun.Footstepspoundonthedirt.It’sClancy,stillshirtlessandnothingmorethanapasty,skin-coloredblurHefiresoffashotandducksbehindatree.“Run!”heshouts.
Ethanreachesformysleeve,tuggingmeawayfromthewallandpointingtowardthewoods.“Go!”
Ibreakintoasprint,feetpoundingagainstthewetground.I’mnotsureifhe’sbehindmebutIraceforthenexttreeandduckbehindit.Ethanslidestoastopacrosstheclearingandlooksback.Asingleplayerisjustwanderingaround.
“It’sthatbig,mouthykid,”hewhispers,grinning.“Lookathimallalone.”
Ipeerintothewoodsaroundus,uneasy.“Maybehe’swaitingforsomeone.”
“Ormaybehe’slost.Kidsaredumb.”
“Myten-year-oldcousinbuiltarobotcatoutofsomegum,acoupleofscrews,andaCokecan,”Itellhim.“Kidsthesedaysarewaysmarterthanwewere.Let’sgo.”
Ethanshakeshishead.“Let’stakehimoutfirst.Heonlyhasonelifeleft.”
“Weonlyhaveonelifeleft.”
“It’sagame,theobjectistowin.”
“Wehavetositdowntheentiredriveback.Mybruisedassdoesn’tcareifwewin.”
“Let’sgiveittwominutes.Ifwecan’tgetashot,we’llrun.”
IreluctantlyagreeandEthanmotionsforustocutthroughthetreesandsurprisehimontheotherside.Ifollowclosely,watchingthewoodsandkeepingmystepsquiet.ButEthanisright,there’snobodyelsearound.
Whenwereachtheedgeofthesmallclearing,thekidisstillthere,justhangingout,pokingatstickswithhisgun.Ethanleansin,hismouthnexttomyear.“He’sgotafuckingheadphonein.Howcockydoyouhavetobetolistentomusicinthemiddleofawarzone?”
Ipullbacktoseehisface.“You’rereallyenjoyingthis,aren’tyou?”
Hissmileiswide.“Oh,yeah.”
Ethanliftshisgun,silentlycreepingforwardwithmeathisside.
We’retwostepsintotheclearingwhenthekidlooksupwithasneer,lipscurledaroundasetofheavybraces.Heraiseshismiddlefinger,andonlythendoIrealizeit’satrap.Wedon’tturnintimetoseehisbuddycomefrombehindus,butthenextthingIknow,myentireassispurple.
???
“ICAN’TBELIEVEHEFLIPPEDusoffbeforehisbuddyshotus,”Ethangrowls.“Smuglittleshit.”
We’reintherelaxationroomofthehotelspa,waitingtobecalledback,anddressedinmatchingwhiterobes.Wearebothsosorewedidn’tevenbalkwhenwerememberedwhatthecouplepartofacouple’smassageentails:beingnakedandoiledupinthesameroomtogether.
Thedooropensandasmilingdark-hairedwomanwalksin.Wefollowherdownalong,dimlylithalltoanevendarkerroom.Asunkenhottubbubblesinthecenter;steamrisesinvitingly.
EthanandImakeeyecontactandthenimmediatelylookaway.Iclutchatmyrobe,awarethatI’mnotwearinganythingunderneath.Ithoughtwe’dheadstraightforthemassagetables,enduringonlyafewquickmomentsofawkwardmaneuveringwhileweslippedunderourrespectivesheets.
“Ithoughtwewerejustscheduledformassages?”Isay.
“Yourpackagecomeswithtimeinthewhirlpoolforapresoak,andthenyourtherapistswillmeetyou.”Hervoiceisfeatheryandcalm.“IsthereanythingelseIcangetyou,Mr.andMrs.Thomas?”
Instincthasmeopeningmymouthtocorrecther,butEthanswoopsin.
“Ithinkwe’regood,”hesays,andsmileshismegawattsmile.“Thankyou.”
“Enjoy.”Shebows,andthenquietlyclosesthedoorbehindher.
Thehottubgurglesbetweenus.
Hissmileslipsawayandhelooksupatme,grim.“I’mnotwearinganythingunderhere,”Gesturingtothetiesofhisrobe,headds,“Iassumeyou’reequally—”
“Yep.”
Heconsidersthesteamingwater,andhislongingisnearlypalpable.“Look,”hesays,atlength.“Dowhatyou’vegottodo,butIcanhardlywalk.I’mgettingin.”
ThewordsarebarelyoutbeforehetugsatthetieandIgetaflashofbarechest.Turningabruptly,I’msuddenlyveryinterestedinthetableofsnacksandbottledwatersagainstthewall.There’ssomeshufflingandthesoundoffabricfallingtothegroundbeforehemoans,deepandlow,“Holyshiiiiiiit.”Thesoundislikeatuningfork,andashiverrocketsthroughmybody.“Olivier,youhavetogetin.”
Ipickupalittlecupofdriedfruit,takeanibble.“I’mgood.”
“We’rebothadultshere,andyoucan’tevenseeanything.Look.”
Iturnandreluctantlyglanceovermyshoulder.He’sright,thebubblingwaterreachesjustbelowhisshoulders,butit’sstillaproblem.WhoknewIhadsuchathingforcollarbones?Hismouthtugsupintoasmileandheleansback,stretchinghisarmsacrossthesidesandsighingdramatically.“God,thisfeelsamazing.”
Everyoneofmybruisesandsoremusclespracticallywhimpersinreply.Thesteamislikeasetoffingersluringmein.Bubbles,jets,andthesubtlescentoflavendereverywhere.
Nakedcollarbones.
“Fine,”Isay,“butcloseyoureyes.”Hedoes,butIbethecanstillpeek.“Andcoverthem,too.”Hecupshispalmacrosshiseyes,grinning.“Withbothhands.”
Oncehe’ssufficientlyblinded,Iwrestleoutofmyrobe.“WhenIsignedupforthishoneymoon,Ihadnoideaitwouldinvolvesomuchnudity.”
Ethanlaughsfrombehindhishands,andIdipmyfootintothewater.Warmthengulfsme—it’salmosttoohot—andIhissasIsinkdeeperintothewater.Itfeelsunreal,theheatandbubblesallalongmyskin.
Iletoutashakybreath.“OhGod,thisfeelssogood.”
Hisbackstraightens.
“Youcanlook.I’mdecent,”Isay.
Helowershishands,expressionwary“That’sdebatable.”
Jetspulseagainstmyshouldersandthebottomsofmyfeet.Myheadlollstotheside.“Thisfeelssogood,Idon’tevencarewhatyousay.”
“Wellthen,IwishIhadtheenergytosaysomethingreallybright.”
Isnortoutalaugh.Ifeeldrunk.“IamsogladI’mallergictoshellfish.”
Ethansinkslowerintothewater.“Iknowwe’repayingtheprice,butdidyouhavefuntoday?”
Maybeit’sthefactthatthehotwaterhasleftmemoreJell-Othansoremusclesandbruises,butIactuallydid.“EvenconsideringIhadtothrowawaymyfavoritetennisshoesandcanbarelysit?Yeah,Idid.You?”
“Idid.Actually,asidefromthewholeSophiething,thisvacationhasn’tbeencompletelyterrible.”
Ipeekathimthroughoneeye.“Whoa,easyontheflattery.”
“YouknowwhatImean.IthoughtI’dhangbymyselfatthepool,eattoomuch,andheadhomewithatan.IthoughtI’dtolerateyou.”
“IfeellikeIshouldbeoffendedbythat,but.same,really.”
“Whichiswhyit’ssocrazytobehere.”Ethanmotionsaroundusbeforestretchingtoreachapairofbottledwatersontheledgeofthetub.Myeyesfollowthemovement,thewaythemusclesofhisbackbunchandthenlengthen,thewaydropletsofwaterrolloffhisskin.Somuchskin.“God,yoursisterwouldfreakifshecouldseeusnow.”
Iblinkbacktoattention,reachingforthebottlehehandsme.“Mysister?”
“Yeah.”
“Mysisterthinksyou’recool.”
“She.really?”
“Yeah.ShehatesallthetripsyouandDanegoon,butshedoesn’tgetmyEthanhate.”
“Huh,”hesays,consideringthis.
“Butdon’tworry,I’mnotgoingtotellherI’veenjoyedsmallsnippetsofyourcompany.AsmugAmiistheworstAmi.”
“Youdon’tthinkshe’llbeabletotell?Don’tyouguyshavesomekindoftwintelepathyorsomething?”
IlaughasItwistopenmywater.“Sorrytodisappointyou,butno.”
“What’sitlikehavingatwin?”
“What’sit’slikenothavingatwin?”Ireply,andhelaughs.
“Touché.”
Ethanmustbewarmbecauseheslidesbackalittlebeforemovingtoadifferentbenchinsidethehottub,onethat’salittlehigherandleavesmoreskinexposedtotheair.
Theproblem,yousee,isthatitalsoleavesmoreskinexposedtome.
Alotmore.
Iseeshoulders,collarbones,chestandwhenhereachesuptopushhishairoffhisforehead,I’mshownseveralinchesofabsbelowhisnipples.
“Haveyouguysalwaysbeenso..”Hetrailsoff,wavingalazyhandlikeIknowwhathe’sasking.
AndIdo.“Different?Yeah.Accordingtomymom,sincewewerebabies.Whichisgood,becausetryingtokeepupwithAmiwouldhavedrivenmeinsanebynow.”
“She’sdefinitelyalot.Isitweirdnowthatshe’smarried?”
“It’sbeendifferentsinceshemetDane,butthatwasboundtohappen,youknow?Ami’slifeispluggingalonglikeit’ssupposedto.I’mtheonewhostalledoutsomewhere.”
“Butthat’sallabouttochange.That’sgottobeexciting.”
“Itis.”It’sstrangetobetalkingaboutthisstuffwithEthan,buthisquestionsseemgenuine,hisinterestsincere.Hemakesmewanttotalk,toaskquestions.“Youknow,Idon’tthinkIknowwhatyoudoforaliving.Somethingwithmath?YoushoweduptoAmi’sbirthdaypartyinasuitandtie,butIjustassumedyou’devictedsomeorphansorputsmallmom-and-popshopsoutofbusiness.”
Ethanrollshiseyes.“I’madigitalidentificationplannerforaresearchcompany.”
“Thatsoundsmadeup.LikeinFatheroftheBridewhenshetellsSteveMartinthatherfiancéisanindependentcommunicationsconsultant,andhesaysthat’scodefor‘unemployed.’”
Helaughsoverthetopofhiswaterbottle.“Wecan’tallhavejobsasself-explanatoryas‘drugdealer.’”
“Har,har.”
“Specifically,”hesays,“Ispecializeinbudgetaryanalysisandbreakdown,butinsimpletermsItellmycompanyhowmucheachofourclientsshouldspendondigitaladvertising.”
“Isthatfancyfor‘BoostthisFacebookpost!PutthatmuchonTwitter!’?”
“Yes,Olive”hesaysdryly.“That’softenwhatitis.Mostly,you’reright,it’salotofmath.”
Iscrunchupmyface.“Hardpass.”
Heletslooseashysmilethatrattlesmybones.“Honestly?I’vealwayslovedgeekingoutaboutnumbersanddata,butthisisnextlevel.”
“Andyouseriouslydigit?”
Heshrugs,liftingadistractinglymuscularshoulder.“IalwayswantedajobwhereIcouldjustplayaroundwithnumbersallday,lookingatthemindifferentways,trytocrackalgorithmsandanticipatepatterns—thisjobletsmedoallofthat.Iknowitsoundssupergeeky,butIgenuinelyenjoyit.”
Huh.Myjobhasalwaysjustbeenajob.Ilovetalkingscience,butIdon’talwayslovethesalesaspectoftheposition.Basically,Itolerateitbecauseit’swhatI’vebeentrainedtodoandI’mgoodatit.ButEthantalkingabouthisjobissurprisinglyhot.Ormaybeit’sjustthewater,whichcontinuestobubblebetweenus.Theheatismakingmedrowsy,slightlylight-headed.
Carefultokeeptheboobagebelowthesurface,Ireachforatowel.“IfeellikeI’mmelting,”Isay.
Ethanhumsinagreement.“I’llgetoutfirstandletthetherapistsknowwe’reready.”
“Soundsgood.”
HeuseshisfingertoindicatethatIshouldturnaround.“Notthatwehaven’tseeneverythingalready,”hesays.Ihearhimdryingoff,andtheimageofitdoesweird,electricthingstomybody.“TheBathroomofDoomsortoftookcareofthat.”
“IfeellikeIshouldapologize,”Isay.“Youdidthrowupdirectlyafterward.”
Helaughsquietly,underhisbreath.“Asifthatwouldbemyreactiontoseeingyounaked,Olive.”
Thedooropensandclosesagain.WhenIturntoaskhimwhathemeant,he’sgone.
???
ETHANDOESN’TCOMEBACKTOgetme,andassoonasDiana,ournewmassagetherapist,leadsmedowntothecouples’massageroom,Iseewhy.Heseemstobefrozeninhorror,staringatthemassagetable.
“What’swithyou?”IaskoutofthecornerofmymouthasDianawalksacrosstheroomtodimthelights.
“Doyouseetwotablesinhere?”hewhispersback.
Ilookbackanddon’tgetwhathe’ssayinguntil—Oh.“Wait,”Isay,lookingupathim.“Ithoughtwewereeachgettingamassage?”
Dianasmilescalmly.“Youwill,ofcourse.ButsinceI’llbeteachingyou,andyou’llbepracticingoneachother,wecanonlydooneatatime.”
MyheadwhipsuptoEthan,andwesharetheexactsamethought,Iknowit:Oh,hellno.
Dianamistakesourterrorforsomethingelse,becauseshelaughslightly,saying,“Don’tworry.Manycouplesarenervouswhentheycomein,butI’llshowyousomedifferenttechniquesandthenleaveyoutopracticethem,soyoudon’tfeellikeyou’rebeinggradedorsupervised.”
Isthisabrothel?Iwanttoask,butofcoursedon’t.Barely.Ethanstaresbleaklyatthetableagain
“Now,”Dianasays,walkingaroundthetabletoliftthesheetforoneofustoclimbunder,“whichofyouwouldliketolearnfirst,andwhichwantstoreceivethemassage?”
Ethan’sansweringsilencehastomeanthathe’sdoingthesamementalcalculationIam:Dowehavetostay?
Particularlygivenhisexitlineaboutreactingtoseeingmenaked,IhavenoideahowthisquestionshakesdowninEthan’sbrain,butgivenmynewfoundfascinationwithhiscollarbones,chesthair,andabdominals,I’mactuallytemptedtogothroughwithit.AndI’mwonderingwhetheritwouldbeeasiertoreceiveamassagefirstsoIdon’thavetotouchhimandpretendtobeunaffected.Thatsaid,onelookathisenormous,stronghandsandI’mnotsurehavingthosefingersoil-slickedandrubbingallovermynakedbackwouldbethatmucheasier.
“I’lllearnfirst,”Isay,justasEthansays,“I’llmassageherfirst.”
Ourwideeyesmeet.
“No,”Isay,“youcanclimbin.I’ll,um,dotherubbing.”
Helaughsuncomfortably.“Seriously,it’scool.I’llmassagefirst.”
“I’mgoingtograbsometowels,”Dianasaysgently,“andgiveyoutimetodecide.”
Onceshe’sgone,Iturntohim.“Getinthesheets,Elmo.”
“I’dreallyratherdothe..”Hemimessqueezing,likehe’sgoingtohonkmyboobs.
“Idon’tthinktherewillbeanyofthat.”
“No,Ijustmean—”Hegrowls,wipingahanddownhisface.“Justgetonthetable.I’llturnaroundsoyoucanslipin.Naked,orwhatever.”
It’sdiminhere,butIcantellhe’sblushing.“Areyou—oh,myGod,Ethan,areyouworriedaboutgettingaboneronthetable?”
Heliftshischin,swallowing.It’sagoodfivesecondsbeforeheanswers.“Actually,yeah.”
Andwiththatonesingleword,myheartgivesanachingjabagainstmybreastbone.Hisresponsewassohonestandrealthatmythroatbecomestightatthethoughtofteasinghim.
“Oh,”Isay,andlickmylips.Mymouthissuddenlysodry.Ilookoveratthetableandfeelmyskingrowalittleclammy.“Okay.I’llgetinthesheets.Just—Imean,justdon’tmakefunofmybody.”
Hegoestotallysilent,totallystill,beforewhisperinganimpassioned“Iwouldneverdothat.”
“Imean,sure,”Isay,feelingacutelythewaymyvoicecomesoutalittlestrangled,“exceptwhenyouhave.”
Heopenshismouthtoreply,browfurrowedindeepconcern,butDianareturnswithherstackoftowels.Ethanhuffsoutanincredulousbreaththroughhisnose,andevenwhenIlookaway,Icantellhe’stryingtogetmyeyesbackonhisface.I’vealwaysappreciatedmybody—Ievensortoflikemynewcurves—butIdon’twanttobeinapositionwhereIfeellikeanyonehastotouchmeanddoesn’twantto.
Thenagain,ifIdon’ttrusthimanddon’twanthimtouchingme,IcouldjusttellDianawearen’tupforthistoday.
Sowhydon’tI?
IsthetruththatIreally,reallywantEthan’shandsonme?
Andifhedoesn’twantto,hecantellherhimself,right?
Ilookathim,searchingforanysignthathe’suncomfortable,buthissweetblushisgone,andinsteadhewearsalookofheateddetermination.Oureyesmeetforone.two.threeseconds,andthenhisgazedropstomylips,tomyneck,anddowntheentirelengthofmybody.Hisbrowquirks,lipspartalittle,andIcatchhowhisbreathingpicksup.Whenhemeetsmyeyesagain,Ihearwhathe’stryingtotellme:IlikewhatIsee.
Flushed,Ifumblewiththetieofmyrobe;we’resupposedtobemarried,whichmeanswe’resupposedtoknowwhattheotherlookslikenaked,andalthoughwedefinitelygotflashesinthebathroomontheboat,I’mnotsureI’mreadyforEthantogetsuchalingering,steadylookwhenIdroptherobeandhopuponthetable.Thankfully,asDianaholdsthesheetupandturnsherfaceawaytogivemeprivacy,Ethanalsomakesashowoffiddlingwithhisrobetie.Quickly,Idropmyrobeandscurryintothewarm,softcocoon.
“We’llstartwithyoufacedown,”shesaysinagentle,soothingvoice.“Ethan,comestandonthissideofthetable.”
IrollontomystomachasgracefullyasIcan,fittingmyheadintothefoamfacerest.Iamshaking,excited,nervous,andsowarmalloverthatthepleasureoftheheatedblanketshasquicklywornoffandIwanttokickthemtothefloor.
DianaistalkingsoftlytoEthan,abouthowtofoldbackthesheet,laughingabouthowifwedothisathomethere’snoneedforthesamekindofmodesty.Helaughs,too;charming,breezyEthanisback,andIadmititiseasierlikethis,staringatthefloorinsteadofmakingeyecontactwiththemanIstillhatebutalsosuddenlywanttofuckintoacoma.
Ihearapump,thenthewetsoundofoilonhands,Diana’squiet“Aboutthismuch,”andthen,“Istarthere.”
Herhandscomeovermyshoulders,kneadinggentlyatfirstandthenwithpressure.Shetalksthroughwhatshe’sdoing,explaininghowtomoveawayfromthepointofmuscleinsertion,spanningthelengthandshapeofthemuscle.Sheexplainswheretoapplypressure,wheretoavoidtenderplaces.I’mstartingtounwind,tofalldeeperintothemattress,andthenshegivesagentleprompt:“Nowyoutry.”
Moreoil.Ashiftingofbodiesbesidethetable,andadeep,shakingbreath.
AndthentheheatofEthan’shandscomesovermyback,followingthepathofDiana’s,andIammelting,bitingmylipstokeepamoaninside.Hishandsarehuge,strongereventhanhers—aprofessional—andwhenhereachesupwithagentlefingertosweepastrandofmyhairoffmyneck,itfeelslikeakiss.
“Thisokay?”heasksquietly.
Iswallowbeforespeaking.“Yeah.It’sgood.”
Ifeelthewayhepauses,andthenworksloweratherencouragement,shiftingthesheetawaytoexposemylowerback.EvenwiththeawarenessthatDianaisstandingbesidehim,Idon’tthinkI’veeverbeenthiswarmorthisturnedonHishandsstrokemyskin,fingerskneading,slickandwarm.
“Now,”Dianasays,“whenyougettothebackside,remember:pushtogether,don’tspread.”
Icoughoutanincredulouslaughintothefacecradle,grabbingafistfulofthesheets.Besideme,withhishandshoveringjustabovemytailbone,Ethanlaughsunderhisbreath.“Um.Noted.”
Carefully,hefoldsthesheetsdowntomyupperthighs.I’vehadmassagesbefore,soofcourseI’vehadmybuttmassagedbyprofessionals.butIhaveneverfeltmoreexposedinmylifethanIdorightnow.
Strangely,Idon’thateit.
Moreoil,moreslicksoundsofhandsrubbingtogether,andthenthoseenormoushandscomedownonmybackside,pressingtheheelsintothemuscle,doingjustasDianainstructs.Behindmyclosedlids,myeyesrollbackinpleasure.Whoknewabuttmassagecouldbesoawesome?It’ssogood,infact,thatIforgettobeself-conscious,andinsteadletoutanear-moan,“Whoknewyouweresogoodatthis?”
Ethan’slaughisadeep,rumblingsoundthatsendsvibrationsthroughme.
“Oh,I’msureyouknewwhetherhewasgoodwithhishands,”Dianasaysplayfully,andit’sonthetipofmytonguetotellhertoscramandleaveustoourbrothelroominpeace.
Hemakeshiswaydownmylegs,tomyfeet.I’mticklish,andit’ssweetthewayhe’scareful,butsteadiesme,wordlesslyreassuringmethatIcantrusthim.Heworkshiswaybackup,andthendowneacharm,massagingmypalms,andtotheendofeachfingertipbeforeheslidesthemcarefullybackundertheblankets.
“Greatjob,Ethan,”Dianasays.“Youstillwithus,Olive?”
Imoan.
“Thinkyoucouldmassagehimnow?”Dianasayswithlaughterinhervoice.
Imoanagain,longer.I’mnotsureIcanmoveyet.AndifIdid,itwouldbetorolloverandpullEthanundertheblanketswithme.Theheavyachelowinmybellyisn’tgoingtogoawayonitsown.
“That’susuallythewaythisgoes,”shesays.
“Totallyfinewithme,”Ethansays,anditcouldbemymushybrain,buthisvoicesoundsdeeper,slower,likethick,warmhoney.Likemaybehe’salittleturnedon,too.
“Thebestthingaboutthis,”Dianasays,“isthatnowyoucanteachher,too.”Ifeelbodiesshiftbehindme,andshesoundsfartheraway,closetothedoorwhenshesays,“I’llleaveyoutwotoswapifyoulike,oryoucanfeelfreetoheadbacktothespaforanotherwarmsoak.”
Isensewhenshe’sgone,butthesilencesomehowfeelsfuller.
Afterafewlongbeats,Ethancarefullyasks,“Youokay?”
Somehow,Imanageaslurred“Ohmygod.”
“Isthatagood‘ohmyGod’orabad‘ohmyGod’?”
“Good.”
Helaughs,andit’sthatsamemaddening,amazingsoundagain.“Excellent.”
“Don’tgetsmug.”
Isensehimcomingnearer,andfeelhisbreathonmyneck.“Oh,Olivia.Ijusthadmyhandsalloveryou,andyou’resorelaxedyoucanbarelyspeak.”Hestepsaway,andthenhisvoicecomesfromadistance,likehe’swalkedtothedoor:“You’dbetterbelieveIwillbesmugashell.”chapterten
Iwakeupandimmediatelygroaninpain;despitethewonder-massage,IamsosorefrombeingpelletedinthewoodsthatIcanbarelypullthecoversback.WhenIlook,myarmsaredottedwithbruisessocolorful,forasecondIsecond-guesswhetherIshoweredyesterdayafterpaintball.Thereisadeeppurpleoneonmyhipthesizeofanapricot,afewonmythighs,andanenormousoneonmyshoulderthatlookslikeararegeode.
Icheckmyphone,openingthenewestmessagefromAmi.
Checkinginforabodycount.
Weremainaliveagainstallodds.
Howareyoufeeling?
Same.
Notreadytoventureoutintotheworldjustyet,butalive.
AndTheHusband?
Ohhewentout.
Out?
Yeah.He’sfeelingbetterandwasalittlerestless.
Butyou’restillsick.
Whyisn’thetakingcareofyou?
He’sbeeninthishousefordays.
Heneededsomeguytime.
Iglareatmyphone,knowingIhavenoreplythatisn’tgoingtoendinusarguing.“Maybeheranoutofbeardwax,”Imumble,justasIhearEthanshufflingdownthehalltowardthebathroom.
“Icanbarelymove,”hesaysthroughthedoor.
“Iampolka-dotted.”Iwhimperdownatmyarms.“IlooklikesomethingfromFraggleRock.”
Aknocksounds.“Areyoudecent?”
“AmIever?”
Hecracksthedooropen,leaninginafewinches.“Ican’tbesocialtoday.Whateverwedo,pleaseletitbejustthetwoofus.”
Andthenheducksbackout,leavingthedooropenandmealonewithmybrainwhileItrytoprocessthis.Again:Whendidthedefaultplanbecomethatwespendthisentirevacationtogether?Andwhendidtheideaofthatnotsendusbothintoawavyboutofnausea?AndwhendidIstartfallingasleepthinkingaboutEthan’shandsonmyback,mylegs,andbetweenmylegs?
Thetoiletflushes,thewaterruns,andIhearthesoundofhimbrushinghisteeth.Iamtripping—Iamusedtotherhythmofhistoothbrushing,amnolongershockedbythesightofhislive-wirehairinthemorning.I’mnolongerhorrifiedatthenotionofspendingthedayjustthetwoofus.Infact,mymindspinswiththeoptions
Ethanemergesfromthehallwaybathroomanddoesadoubletakewhenhelooksintothebedroomatme.
“What’swithyou?”
Ilookdowntounderstandhismeaning.I’msittingramrodstraight,withmysleepmaskonmyforehead,theblanketsclutchedtomychest,eyeswide.
Honestyhasalwaysseemedtoworkbestforus:“I’mfreakingoutalittlethatyousuggestedwespendthedaytogether,justus,anditdoesn’tmakemewanttorappeldownthebalcony.”
Ethanlaughs.“Ipromisetobeasirritatingaspossible.”Andthenheturns,shufflingbacktothelivingroom,callingout,“Andassmug,too.”
Withthisreminderofyesterday,mystomachtwistsandmyladypartswakeup.Enoughofthat.Pushingup,Ifollowhimout,nolongercaringthathe’sgoingtoseemeinmyskimpypajamas,orthathe’sinboxersandathreadbareT-shirt.Afterourencounterinthebathroomontheboat,thehottub,andhishandsallovermyoiled-upskinyesterday,nosecretsremain.
“Wecouldhangatthepool?”Isuggest.
“People.”
“Beach?”
“Alsopeople.”
Ilookoutthewindow,thinking.“Wecouldrentacaranddrivealongthecoast?”
“Nowyou’retalking.”Hetuckshishandsbehindhishead,andhisbicepspopdistractingly.Irollmyeyes—atmyself,obviously,forevennoticing—andbecausehe’sEthanandnothinggetspasthim,hecheekilydoesitagain.“Whatareyoulookingat?”Hestartstoalternatebetweenhistwoarms,speakinginastaccatorhythmtomatchthebicepflexes.“It—looks—like—Olive—likes—muscles.”
“You’reremindingmesomuchofDanerightnow,”Isay,fightingalaugh,butthere’snoneedbecausethelaughdiesinmythroatatthewayEthan’sentiredemeanorchanges.
Hedropshisarmsandleansforward,restinghiselbowsonhisthighs.“Well,okaythen.”
“Isthataninsult?”Iask.
Heshakeshishead,andthenseemstochewonhisanswerforawhile.Longenoughformetogetboredandgointothekitchentobrewsomecoffee.
Finally,hesays,“Igetthesensethatyoudon’tlikeDaneverymuch.”
Oh,thisissomethinice.“Ilikehimfine,”Ihedge,andthengrin.“IlikehimmorethanIlikeyou.”
It’saweirdsilencethatfollows.Weird,becausewebothknowI’mfullofshit.Ethan’sfrownslowlyturnsintoagrin“Liar.”
“Okay,Iadmityou’renotSatananymore,butyou’redefinitelyoneofhishenchmen.Imean,”Isay,bringingtwomugsintothelivingroomandsettinghisonthecoffeetable,“IalwaysthoughtDanewassortoffrattyand,like,aBudweiser-in-a-beer-cozytype,butwhatconfusedmeishowyoucouldbeworsewhenyoulooksomuchmoreput-together.”
“Whatdoyoumeanby‘worse’?”
“Comeon,”Isay,“youknow.Likehowyou’realwayspullinghimofftothesecrazytripsassoonasAmihassomethingniceplanned.Valentine’sDayawayinVegas.Theiranniversarylastyear,youtookhimtoNicaraguatogosurfing.YouandDanewentskiinginAspenonher—well,our—thirty-firstbirthday.IendedupeatingAmi’sfreebirthdaydessertatOliveGardenbecauseshewastoodrunktoholdafork.”
Ethanstaresatme,confused.
“What?”Iask.
Heshakeshishead,stillstaring.Finally,hesays,“Ididn’tplanthosetrips.”
“What?”
Laughingwithouthumor,herunsahandthroughhishair.Thebiceppopsagain.Iignoreit.“Daneplansallofthetrips.IactuallygotintroublewithSophieforgoingalongfortheVegasoneonValentine’sDay.ButIhadnoideahewasmissingeventsIjustassumedheneededbrothertime.”
AfewsecondsofsilenceinwhichIrewiremymemoryofallofthesethings,becauseIcantellhe’ssincere.IspecificallyrememberbeingtherewhenDanetoldAmiabouttheNicaraguatrip,howhewasgoingtohavetomisstheanniversaryoftheirfirstdate,andshelookeddevastated.Hesaid,“Ethan—thedumb-ass—gotnonrefundabletickets.Ican’tsayno,babe.”
I’mabouttotellEthanthiswhenhespeaksfirst.“I’msurehedidn’trealizethathewascancelingplansshe’dmade.Hewouldn’tdothat.God,hewouldfeelawful.”
Ofcoursehewouldseeitthisway.Iftheroleswerereversed,Iwoulddoorsayanythingtodefendmysister.Takingamentalstepback,Ihavetoadmitthatnowisnotthetimetohashthisout,andwearenotthepeopletodoit.ThisisbetweenAmiandDane,notEthanandme.
EthanandIareinagoodspot;let’snotruinit,shallwe?
“I’msureyou’reright,”Isay,andhelooksupatmegratefully,andmaybewithabitmoreclarity,too.AllthistimeIthoughthewasbehindthosetrips—hegetsthatnow.Notonlyisn’thethejudgmentalassholeIthoughthewas,he’salsonottheterribleinfluencethatresultedinmysister’shurtfeelings.It’salottoprocess.
“Comeon,”Itellhim.“Let’sgetdressedandgetourselvesacar.”
???
ETHAN’SHANDCOMESOVERMINEasweleavethehotel.“IncasewerunintoSophie,”heexplains.
“Sure.”Isoundexactlyliketheeagernerdinateenmovieagreeingwithsomethingtooreadily,butwhatever.HoldingEthan’shandisweirdbutnotentirelyunpleasant.Infact,it’sniceenoughthatIfeelalittleguilty.Wehaven’tseenherandBillysincesnorkeling,soallthisperformativeaffectionisprobablyunnecessary.Butwhytakechances,amIright?
Besides,Ihavebecomeabigfanofthosehands.
Werentalime-greenMustangconvertiblebecauseweareidiottourists.I’msureEthanexpectsanargumentaboutwhoshoulddrive,butIgleefullytosshimthekeys.Whodoesn’twanttobechauffeuredaroundMaui?
Oncewe’reonthenorthwesterncoast,Ethanopensthespeedasmuchashecan—peoplejustdon’tdrivefastontheisland.HeputsonaMuseplaylist,andIvetoitandputontheShins.Hegrumbles,andatastoplight,choosestheEditors.
“I’mnotinthemoodforthis,”Isay.
“I’mdriving.”
“Idon’tcare.”
Withalaugh,hegesturesformetopicksomething.IputonDeathCabandhegrinsoveratme—itbrightensthesun.Withtheirchillsoundblowingintheairaroundus,Iclosemyeyes,facetothewind,myloosebraidtrailingbehindme.
Forthefirsttimeindays,Iamcompletely,no-hesitation,no-doubting-ithappy.
“Iamthesmartestwomanaliveforsuggestingthis,”Isay.
“I’dliketoargueforthesakeofarguing,”hesays,“butIcan’t.”
Hesmilesoveratme,andmyheartdoesanuneasysomersaultbeneathmybreastbonebecauseIrealizeI’mwrong:forthefirsttimeinmonths—maybeyears—I’mhappy.AndwithEthan,ofallpeople.
Beinganexpertatself-sabotage,Irevertbacktooldhabits.“Thatmustbehardforyou.”
Ethanlaughs.“Itisfuntoarguewithyou.”
It’snotajab,Irealize—it’sacompliment.
“Stopthat.”
Heglancesatmeandbacktotheroad.“Stopwhat?”
“Beingnice.”AndGod,whenhelooksatmeagaintoseewhetherI’mjoking,Ican’thelpgrinning.EthanThomasisdoingsomethingweirdtomyemotions.
“Ididpromisetobeirritatingandsmug,didn’tI?”
“Youdid,”Iagree,“sogettoit.”
“Youknow,forsomeonewhohatesme,yousuremoanedalotwhenItouchedyou,”hesays.
“Shutup.”
Hegrinsoveratmeandthenbackattheroad.“‘Presstogether.Don’tspread.’”
“Willyou.Shutup.”
Helaughsthiswide-openlaugh;it’sasoundI’veneverheard,andit’sanEthanI’veneverseen:headtiltedback,eyescrinkledinjoy.HelooksashappyasIfeel.
Andmiraculously,wespendhourstogetherwithoutarguingonce.Mymomtextsafewtimes,Ami,too,butIignorethemboth.I’mhonestlyhavingoneofthebestdaysIcanremember.Reallifecanwait.
Weexploretheruggedshoreline,findseveralbreathtakingblowholes,andstoptoeatroadsidetacosnearacoral-strewnbayofcrystallineaquamarinewater.IhavenearlyfortypicturesofEthanonmyphonenow—andsadlynoneofthemcanbeusedasblackmail,becausehelooksgreatineverysingleone.
Hereachesover,pointingtomyphonescreenwhenIscrolltoaphotoofhim.He’sgrinningsowideIcouldcounthisteeth,andthewindiswhippinghardenoughtopresshisshirttighttohischest.Behindhim,theNakaleleblowholemajesticallyeruptsnearlyahundredfeetintotheair.“Youshouldframethatoneforyournewoffice,”hesays.
Ilookovermyshoulderathim,unsurewhetherhe’skidding.Aninspectionofhisexpressiondoesn’tclearthingsupforme.
“Yeah,Idon’tthinkso.”Itiltmyhead.“It’soddlyobscene.”
“Itwaswindy!”heprotests,clearlythinkingI’mreferringtothefactthateverycontourofhischestisvisiblebeneaththeblueT-shirt.
Which—yes,but:“Iwastalkingabouttheenormousejaculationbehindyou.”
Ethangoesquiet,andIglanceupathimagain,shockedthathehasn’timmediatelyrunwiththisone.Helookslikehe’sbitinghistongue.IregisterI’veveeredawayfrominsultterritoryandsprintedheadlongintosexual-speakterritory.Ithinkhe’sgaugingwhetherIintendedtobeflirty.
AndthenheseemstodecidethatIhadn’t—whichistrue,butnowthatI’mthinkingaboutit,maybeIshouldhavebeen—andbendstotakethelastbiteofhistaco.Iexhale,swipingtothenextphoto:apicturehetookofmestandinginfrontofthefamousheart-shapedrock.Ethanlooksovermyshoulderagain,andIfeelusbothgostill.
Admittedly,it’sagreatpictureofme.Myhairisup,butblownloosefromthebraid.Mysmileisenormous;Idon’tlooklikethepessimistIam.Ilookentirelysmittenwiththeday.Andhell,withthewindplasteringmyshirttomytorso,thetwinslookamazing.
“Sendmethatone,okay?”hesaysquietly.
“Sure.”Iairdropittohim,andhearthesmalldingwhenhisphonereceivesit.“Don’tmakemeregretthat.”
“Ineedanaccurateimageformyvoodoodoll.”
“Well,aslongasthat’syourintention.”
“Asopposedto?”Heleansintothenaughtytone,andwon’tletupontheeyecontact,whichsuddenlyscreamsspankbank.
Mystomachrollsagain.Amasturbationinsinuation.Suggestivehumor.Thisfeelslikefree-fallingwithoutaparachute.IcanhandleEthanwhenhe’sterrible;Idon’tknowhowtohandlehimwhenhe’sturninghislegendarycharmonme.
“Whatarewedoingtonight?”heasks,blinkingawayandimmediatelyclearingthemood.
“Dowereallywanttopushit?”Iask.“We’vebeentogetherfor..”Ipickuphisarmandglanceathiswatch.“Likeeightyyearsstraight.Therearebruises,butnobloodshedyetIsaywequitwhilewe’reahead.”
“Whatdoesthatentail?”
“IgetthebedroomandNetflix,youwandertheislandtocheckonyourhiddenhorcruxes.”
“Youknowinordertocreateahorcruxyouhavetohavemurderedsomeone,right?”
Istareupathim,hatingthetinyflutteringthatgetsgoinginmychestbecauseheknowstheHarryPotterreference.Iknewhewasabooklover,buttobethesamekindofbookloverIam?Itmakesmyinsidesmelt.“Youjustmademyjokeverydark,Ethan.”
Heballsuphistacowrapperandleansbackonhishands.“YouknowwhatIwanttodo?”
“Oh—Iknowthisone.Youwanttohavedinneratabuffet.”
“Iwanttogetdrunk.We’reonanisland,onafakehoneymoon,andit’sfuckinggorgeousout.Iknowyoulikeyourcocktails,OctaviaTorres,andIhaven’tseenyouasmuchastipsyonce.Doesn’ttheideaofafewdrinkssoundfun?”
Ihesitate.“Itsoundsdangerous.”
Thismakeshimlaugh.“Dangerous,likewe’dendupeithernakedordead?”
Itfeelslikebeingpunched,hearinghimsaythis,becausethatisexactlywhatImeant,andtheideaofendingupdeaddoesn’tscaremenearlyasmuchasdoesthealternative.
???
ABOUTHALFWAYBACKTOTHEhotel,wepullintothedustylotofCheeseburgerMaui—whichboasts$1.99MaiTaiWednesdays.ThisisthrillingasitisWednesdayandIambroke.
Ethanunfoldsfromthefrontseat,stretchingdistractingly.Idefinitelydonotgrabaneyefulofhappytrail.ButifIdid,Iwouldnoticehowsoftitlooksagainsthishard,flat—
“Ready?”heasks,andmyattentionrocketstohisface.
“Ready,”Isayinmybestaggressiverobotvoice.Definitelynotcaughtswooning.Iholdoutmyhand,beckoning,andforahilariousbeat,EthanclearlythinksIwanttoholdhishand.Hestaresatit,bewildered.
“Keys,”Iremindhim.“Ifyou’regettingdrunk,I’mdriving.”
Afterheseesthelogichere,hetossesthemovertome,andgiventhatIamtheleastathleticpersonalive,Imanagetonearlycatchthembutultimatelyslapthemintoapileofgravelnearthetire.
EthanlaughsasIjogtoretrievethem,andwhenIpassasheholdsthebardooropenforme,myelbowslipsanddigsintohisstomach.Oops.
Hebarelywinces.“Thatallyougot?”
“God,Ihateyou.”
Hisvoiceisagrowlbehindme:“No,youdon’t.”
Theinsideoftherestaurantisover-the-topandkitschyandsopositivelymagicalthatIpullupshort.Ethancollideswithmyback,nearlysendingmesprawling.“Whatthehell,Olive?”
“Lookatthisplace,”Itellhim.Thereisalife-sizesharkcomingoutofthewall,apiratecompletewithpirateshipmuralinthecorner,acrabwearingalifepreserversuspendedinanetoverhead.
Ethanwhistlesinresponse.“It’ssomethingelse.”
“We’rehavingsuchagooddaynotmurderingeachotherthatI’mgoingtobepoliteandsuggestthatwecangosomewherealittlemorehifalutin’ifyou’dprefer,butIdon’tseeabuffetanywhere,so..”
“StopactinglikeI’msuchasnob.Ilikethisplace.”Hesitsdownandpicksupastickymenu,perusingit.
AwaiterinaCheeseburgerMauiT-shirtstopsatourtableandfillsourwaterglasses.“Youguyswantfood,orjustdrinks?”
IcantellEthanisabouttosayjustdrinks,butIjumpinfirst.“Ifwe’reinthisforthelonghaul,you’regoingtoneedfood.”
“Ijusthadtacos,”heargues.
“You’relikesixfootfourandweightwohundredpounds.I’veseenyoueat,andthosetacosaren’tgoingtosustainyouforlong.”
Thewaitermm-hmmsappreciativelybesideme,andIlookupathim.“We’llcheckoutthemenu.”
Weorderdrinks,andthenEthanleanshiselbowsonthetable,studyingme.“Areyouhavingfun?”
IpretendtofocusonthemenuandnotthecurlofuneaseIfeelatthesinceretenortohiswords.“Shh.I’mreading.”
“Comeon.Can’twehaveaconversation?”
Iputonmybestconfusedface.“Awhat?”
“Theexchangeofwords.Withoutbanter.”Heexhalespatiently.“I’llaskyousomething.You’llanswer,thenaskmesomething.”
Groaning,Isay,“Fine.”
Ethanstaresatme.
“God,what?”Iask.“Askmeaquestion,then!”
“Iaskedyouwhetheryou’rehavingfun.Thatwasmyquestion.”
Itakeasipofmywater,rollmyneck,andgivehimwhathewants.“Fine.Yes.I’mhavingfun.”
Hecontinuestowatchme,expectantly.
“Areyouhavingfun?”Iaskobediently.
“Iam,”heanswerseasily,leaningbackinhischair.“Iexpectedthistobeahellmouthonatropicalisland,andampleasantlysurprisedthatIonlyfeellikepoisoningyourmealsabouthalfthetime.”
“Progress.”Iliftmywaterglassandclinkhis.
“Sowhenwasyourlastboyfriend?”heasks,andInearlychokeonapieceofice.
“Wowza,thatescalatedquickly.”
HelaughsandgivesawinceIfindsoadorableIwanttospillhiswaterintohislap.“Ididn’tmeanthattobecreepy.WewerejusttalkingaboutSophieyesterday,andIrealizeIdidn’taskanythingaboutyou.”
“That’sokay,”Iassurehimwithacasualwave.“I’mfinenottalkingaboutmydatinglife.”
“Yeah,butIwanttoknow.We’resortoffriendsnow,right?”Blueeyestwinklewhenhesmiles,thedimplemakesanappearance,andIlookaway,noticingthatothersarenoticinghissmile,too.“Imean,Ididrubyourbuttyesterday.”
“Stopremindingme.”
“Comeon.Youlikedit.”
Idid.Ireallydid.Takingadeepbreath,Itellhim,“MylastboyfriendwasaguynamedCarl,and—”
“I’msorry.Carl?”
“Look,theycan’tallbesexySophienames,”Isay,andimmediatelyregretitbecauseitmakeshimfrown,evenwhenthewaiterplacesagiant,alcohol-soaked,fruit-filleddrinkinfrontofhim.“So,hisnamewasCarl,andheworkedat3M,and—God,it’ssodumb.”
“What’sdumb?”
“Ibrokeupwithhimbecausewhenthewholethingwith3Mandthewaterpollutionwentdown,hedefendedthecompanyandIjustcouldnothandleit.Itfeltsocorporateandgross.”
Ethanshrugs.“Thatsoundslikeaprettyreasonablereasontobreakuptome.”
Imeethishigh-fivewithoutthinking,andthenmentallyloghowawesomeitisthathechosethatmomenttohigh-fiveme.“Anyway,sothatwas.awhileago,andhereweare.”He’salreadyputawayabouthalfofhismaitai,soIturnitbacktohim.“HastherebeenanyonesinceSophie?”
“AcoupleTinderdates.”Hedrainstherestofhisdrink,andthennoticesmyexpression.“It’snotthatbad.”
“Iguessnot.Inmyhead,IjustpictureeverydudeonTinderisexpectingittojustbesex.”
Helaughs.“Alotprobablyare.Probablyalotofwomenare,too.I’mcertainlynotexpectingsexonthefirstdate.”
“Or,what?Thefifth?”Isay,gesturingtothetable,andthenclapmymouthshutbecauseHELLO,THISISNOTADATE.
Thankfully,myidiocycoincideswiththewaitercomingbytotakeanotherdrinkorder,sobythetimeEthanturnsbacktome,he’sreadytomoveon.
Andasitturnsout,Ethanisareallycute,happydrunk.Hischeeksturnpink,he’sgotapermagrin,andevenwhenwereturntothetopicofSophie,he’sstillgiggling.
“Shewasn’tverynicetome,”hesays,andthenlaughs.“AndI’msureitmadeitworsethatIstayed.Nothingisharderinarelationshipthannotrespectingthepersonyou’rewith.”Heleanshischinheavilyintohishand“Ididn’tlikemyselfwithher.IwaswillingtotrytobetheguyshewantedratherthanwhoIreallyam.”
“Examples,please.”
Helaughs.“Okay,here’sonethatmightgiveyouasenseofit:wehadacouple’sphotoshoot.”
“Whiteshirtsanddenimwithafencebackdrop?”Iask,wincing.
Helaughsharder.“No,sheworewhite,Iworeblack.Infrontofanartfullydilapidatedbarn.”Webothgroan.“Moreimportantly,though,weneverfought.Shehatedfighting,soitwaslikewecouldn’tevendisagree.”
“Soundsjustlikemeandyou,”Isaysarcastically,givinghimagrin.
Helaughs,andhissmilelingersashelooksatme.“Yeah.”Afterapausethatseemstohang,heavyandexpectant,heinhalesdeeplyandsays,“I’veneverbeenlikethatbefore.”
God,IrelatetothismorethanIcansay.“Honestly,Igetthat.”
“Doyou?”
“BeforeCarl—”Isay,andhesnickersagainatthename,“Idatedthisguy,Frank—”
“Frank?”
“We’dmetatwor—”
ButEthanwillnotbedeterred.“Iknowyourproblem,Odessa.”
“What’smyproblem,Ezra?”
“You’reonlydatingguyswhowereborninthe1940s.”
Ignoringhim,Ipresson.“Anyway,I’dmetFrankatwork.Thingsweregoingwell,wehadagood,sexyvibeifyouknowwhatImean,”Isay,andIexpectEthantolaughatthis,buthedoesn’t.“Anyway,hesawmefreakingoutaboutapresentationoneday—IwasnervousbecauseIdidn’tfeelI’dhadenoughtimewiththematerialtogetcomfortable—andIswear,seeingmelikethattotallyturnedhimoff.Westayedtogetheranotherfewmonths,butitwasn’tthesame.”Ishrug.“Maybeitwasallinmyhead,but,yeah.Thatinsecurityjustmadeitworse.”
“WheredidyoumeetFrankagain?”
“Butake.”AssoonasIsayit,Irealizeitwasasetup.
“Bukkake!”hesings,andIpushhiswatertowardhim.
“It’sButake,youdumbass,whydoyoualwaysdothat?”
“Becauseit’sfunny.Didn’ttheyrunthecompanynamethroughsometestaudiencesor—or—what’sitcalled?”
“Focusgroups?”
Hesnapshisfingerstogether.“That.Like,UrbanDictionaryisrightthere!It’slikenamingakidRichard.”Heleansin,whisperinglikehe’simpartingsomegreatwisdom.“He’sgonnabecalledDick.It’sjustamatteroftime.”
IregisterthatI’mstaringathimwithovertfondnesswhenhereachesforward,touchingacarefulfingertiptomychin.
“You’relookingatmelikeyoulikeme,”hesays.
“It’sthemaitaigogglesyou’rewearing.Ihateyouasmuchasever.”
Ethanliftsaskepticalbrow.“Really?”
“Yep.”Nope.
Heexhalesalittlegrowlandpolishesoffhissixthmaitai.“IthoughtIrubbedyourbuttprettywell,wellenoughtoatleastbeshiftedupintothestronglydislikecategory.”Thewaiter,Dan,returns,grinningdownatsweet,pliableEthan.“Onemore?”
“Nomore,”Iquicklyanswer,andEthanprotestswithadrunkenPsssshhhhhh.Danwaggleshiseyebrowsatme,likeImighthaveagreattimewiththisonetonight.
Look,Dan,I’mjusthopingIcangethimtothecar.
Ican,infact,butittakesbothmeandDantokeephimontask.DrunkEthanisnotonlyhappy,heisexceedinglyfriendly,andbythetimethethreeofusgetoutthedoor,he’sreceivedaphonenumberfromacuteredheadatthebar,boughtadrinkforamanwearingaVikingsT-shirt,andhigh-fivedaboutfortystrangers.
Hebabblessweetlyonthedrivehome—abouthischildhooddog,Lucy;abouthowmuchhelovestokayakintheBoundaryWatersandhasn’tbeenintoolong;andaboutwhetherI’veeverhaddillpicklepopcorn(theanswerishellyes)—andbythetimewegetbacktothehotel,he’sstilldrunkoffhisass,butslightlymorecollected.WemakeitthroughthelobbywithonlyafewmorestopssoEthancanmakenewfriendswithstrangers.
Hestopstogiveahugtooneofthevaletattendantswhohelpeduscheckin.IgiveanapologeticsmileoverEthan’sshoulderandcheckhisnametag:Chris.
“Lookslikethehoneymoonersarehavingagoodtime,”Chrissays.
“Maybetoogood.”Ileantowardescape—Imean,thepathtotheelevator.“Justtakingthisoneupstairs.”
EthanliftsafingerandbeckonsChriscloser.“Doyouwanttoknowasecret?”
Uhhhh.
Amused,Chrisleansin.“Sure?”
“Ilikeher.”
“Iwouldhopeso,”Chriswhispersback.“She’syourwife.”
Andboomgoesmyheart.He’sdrunk,Itellmyself.Thisisn’tathinghe’ssaying,justdrunkwords.
Safelyinthesuite,Ican’thelpbutletEthancollapseontheenormousbedforthenight.He’sgoingtoberockingaprettyseriousheadacheinthemorning.
“God,I’msotired,”hemoans.
“Roughdayofsightseeinganddrinking?”
Helaughs,onehandreachingupandcominginforaheavylandingonmyforearm.“Thatisn’twhatImean.”
Hishairhasfallenoveroneeye,andI’msotemptedtomoveitaside.Forcomfort,ofcourse.
Ireachout,carefullysweepingthehairacrosshisforehead,andhelooksupatmewithsuchintensitythatIfreezewithmyfingersnearhistemple.
“Whatdoyoumean,then?”Iaskquietly.
Hedoesn’tbreakeyecontact.Notevenforabreath.“It’ssoexhaustingpretendingtohateyou.”
Thispullsmeupshort,and—eventhoughIknowitnow,thetruthofitstillblowsthroughme—Iask,“Soyoudon’thateme?”
“Nope.”Heshakeshisheaddramatically.“Neverdid.”
Never?“Yousureseemedto.”
“Youweresomean.”
“Iwasmean?”Iask,confused.Iscrabblebackthroughthementalhistory,tryingnowtoseeitfromhisperspective.WasImean?
“Idon’tknowwhatIdid.”Hefrowns.“Butitdidn’tmatteranyway,becauseDanetoldmenotto.”
Iamsolost.“Hetoldyounottowhat?”
Hiswordsareaquietslur:“Hesaid,‘Hellno.’”
I’mstartingtounderstandwhathe’stellingme,butIrepeatitagainanyway:“Hellnotowhat?”
Ethanlooksupatme,gazeswimming,andreachesuptocupthebackofmyneck.Hisfingersplaywithmybraidforacontemplativebeat,andthenhepullsmedownwithasurprisinglycarefulhand.Idon’tevenresist;it’salmostasif,inhindsight,I’veknownthismomentwascomingforever.
Myheartvaultsintomythroataswemovetogether;afewshort,exploratorykissesfollowedbytheunbindingreliefofsomethingdeeper,withtinysoundsofsurpriseandhungercomingfrombothofus.Hetasteslikecheapalcoholandcontradictions,butitisstillhands-downthebestkissofmylife.
Pullingback,heblinksupatme,saying,“That.”
I’llneedtoseeifthereisadoctorinthehoteltomorrow.Somethingisdefinitelywrongwithmyheart:it’spoundingtoohard,sotight.
Ethan’seyesrollclosed,andhepullsmedownbesidehimonthebed,curlinghislongbodyaroundmine.Ican’tmove,canbarelythink.Hisbreathingevensout,andhesuccumbstoadrunkenslumber.Minefollowsmuchlater,undertheperfect,heavyweightofhisarm.chaptereleven
IopenthedoortooursuiteasquietlyasIcan.Ethanwasn’tawakeyetwhenIfinallygaveuponwaitingforhimandwenttogetsomethingtoeat,butheisnow.He’ssittingonthecouchinnothingbutboxers.There’ssomuchtanskintotakein—itsendsmypulseskyrocketing.We’llhavetotalkaboutwhathappenedlastnight—thekissing,andthefactthatweslepttogetherallnight,curledinamatchingsetofparentheses—butitwouldprobablybemucheasierifwecouldjustskiptheawkwardtalkandgostraighttothemakingoutagain.
“Hey,”Isayquietly.
“Hey.”Hishairisamess,hiseyesareclosed,andhe’sleaningbackasifhe’sjustfocusingonbreathingorplanningtostartapetitiontobanallsalesof$1.99maitais.
“How’sthehead?”Iask.
Heanswerswithagravellygroan.
“Ibroughtyousomefruitandaneggsandwich.”Iholdoutato-gocartonofsomemangoandberriesandawrappedpackagewiththesandwich,andhelooksatbothofthemlikethey’refilledwithbuffetseafood.
“Youwentdownstairstoeat?”heasks.Thefollow-upWithoutme?isclearlyimplied.
Histoneisdickish,butIforgivehim.Noonelikesapoundinghead.
Settingthefooddownonthetable,Iheadintothekitchentogethimsomecoffee.“Yeah,Iwaitedforyouuntilaboutninethirty,butmystomachwasdigestingitself.”
“DidSophieseeyoutherealone?”
Thisfeelslikebeingjerkedtoastandstill.Iturntolookathimovermyshoulder.“Um,what?”
“Ijustdon’twanthertothinkthatthere’stroubleinourmarriage.”
Wespentallafternoontalkingabouthowhe’sbetteroffwithoutSophie,hekissedmelastnight,andthismorninghe’sworriedaboutwhatshethinks.Awesome.“Youmeanourfakemarriage?”Isay.
Herubsahandacrosshisforehead.“Yeah.Exactly.”Droppinghishand,helooksupatme.“So?”
Myjawtightens,andIfeelthestormbuildinmychest.Thisisgood.Angerisgood.IcandoangryatEthan.It’ssomucheasierthanfeelingtheticklingedgesofsmitten.“No,Ethan,yourex-girlfriendwasnotatbreakfast.Neitherwasherfiancé,oranyofthenewfriendsyoumadeinthelobbylastnight.”
“Thewhat?”heasks.
“Nevermind.”Obviouslyhedoesn’tremember.Excellent.Wecanpretendtherestdidn’thappen,either.
“Areyouinabadmood?”heasks,andadry,sardoniclaughburstsoutofme.
“AmIinabadmood?Isthataseriousquestion?”
“Youseemupsetorsomething.”
“Iseem—?”Itakeadeepbreath,pullingmyselftomyfullheight.DoIseemupset?Hekissedmelastnight,saidsweetthingsimplyingthatmaybehe’dwantedtodothatforawhile,andthenpassedout.Nowhe’sgrillingmeaboutwhomighthaveseenmegettingfoodaloneinthehotel.Idon’tthinkmyreactionisoverblown
“I’mgreat.”
Hemumblessomethingandthenreachesforthefruit,openingthelidandpeeringin.“Wasthisfromthe—”
“No,Ethan,it’snotfromthebuffet.Iorderedafreshlymadefruitplate.Ibroughtituptospareusthetwelve-dollarroomservicedeliverycharge.”Mypalmisitchytosmackhimforthefirsttimeintwodays,anditfeelsglorious.
Hegruntsouta“Thanks,”andthenpicksupapieceofmangowithhisfingers.Hestaresatit,andthenburstsoutlaughing.
“What’ssofunny?”Iask.
“JustrememberingthatgirlfriendofDane’swhohadamangotattooonherass.”
“What?”
Hechews,andswallowsbeforespeaking.“Trinity.Theonehewasdatingliketwoyearsago?”
Ifrown;discomfortwormsthroughme“Couldn’thavebeentwoyearsago.HewaswithAmithreeandahalfyearsago.”
Hewavesthisaway.“Yeah,butImeanbeforeheandAmiwereexclusive.”
Atthesewords,IdropthesugarspoonI’mholdinganditclattersdissonantlyonthecounter.AmimetDaneatabar,andbyheraccount,theywenthomethatnight,hadsex,andneverlookedback.AsfarasIknow,therewasneveratimetheyweren’texclusive.
“Howlongwasitagainthattheywereseeingotherpeople?”Iask,withasmuchcontrolaspossible
Ethanpopsablackberryintohismouth.He’snotlookingatmyfacenow,whichisprobablygood,becauseI’msureIlooklikeI’mreadytodoamurder.“Likethefirstcoupleyearstheyweretogether,right?”
Bending,Ipinchthebridgeofmynose,tryingtochannelProfessionalOlive,whocankeephercoolevenwhenbeingchallengedbycondescendingphysicians.“Right.Right.”Icaneitherfreakout,ormilkthismomentforinformation.“Theymetatthatbarbutitwasn’tuntil.whendidtheydecidetobeexclusiveagain?”
Ethanlooksupatme,catchingsomethinginmytone.“Um..”
“Wasitrightbeforetheygotengaged?”Idon’tknowwhatI’lldowithmyselfifheagreeswiththisshotinthedark,butitsuddenlymakessensethatDanewouldrefusetocommituntilhewasimpulsivelyreadytoenterholymatrimony.
Mybrainisnothingbutfantasiesoffireandbrimstone.
Ethannodsslowly,andhiseyesscanmyfacelikehe’stryingtoreadmymood,andcan’t.“Remember?HeendeditwiththeotherwomenrightaroundthetimeAmihadherappendixout,andthenheproposed?”
Islammyhanddownonthecounter.“Areyoufuckingkiddingme?”
Ethanboltstostand,pointingafingeratme.“Youplayedme!Don’tevenpretendlikeAmididn’tknowallthis!”
“Amineverthoughttheywereseeingotherpeople,Ethan!”
“Thensheliedtoyou,becauseDanetellshereverything!”
Iamalreadyshakingmyhead,andIreallywanttohurtDanebutEthaniscloserandit’llbeafantasticrehearsal.“You’retellingmethatDanewassleepingaroundforthefirsttwoyearstheyweretogether,andheletyouthinkAmiwasokaywithit?Shestartedcuttingoutweddingdressesshelikedinmagazinesafterafewmonthsofdatinghim.Shetreatedherweddinglikeagameshowchallengetowinasmuchasshecould—anditconsumedher.Shehasanapronspecificallyforbakingcupcakes,forcryingoutloud,andhasalreadypickedoutnamesfortheirfuturechildren.DoesAmiseemlikethekindofchillgalwhowouldbefinewithanopenrelationship?”
“I..”Heseemslesscertainnow.“MaybeI’mwrong..”
“Ineedtocallher.”Iturntoheadtothebedroomtofindmyphone.
“Don’t!”heshouts.“Look,ifthat’swhathetoldme,thenI’mtellingyouthisinconfidence.”
“Youhavegottobejoking.ThereisnowayI’mnottalkingtomysisteraboutthis.”
“JesusChrist,Danewasright.”
Igoverystill.“Whatisthatsupposedtomean?”
Helaughs,butit’snotahappysound.
“Seriously,Ethan?Whatdoesthatmean?”
Helooksupatme,andwithapangImissthesweetadorationinhisexpressionlastnight,becausetheangerhereispainful.
“Tellme,”Isay,morequietlynow
“Hetoldmenottobotherwithyou.Thatyou’reangryallthetime.”
Ifeelthislikeapunchtomysternum.
“CanyoubelieveIwantedtoaskyouout?”hesays,andlaughshumorlessly.
“Whatareyoueventalkingabout?”Iask.“When?”
“Whenwefirstmet.”Hebends,restinghiselbowsonhisthighs.HislongformcurlsupintoanexhaustedC,andherakesafantastichandthroughhismessofhair.“Thatfirsttimeatthefair.ItoldhimhowprettyIthoughtyouwere.Hethoughtthatwasweird—thatitwasweirdformetobeattractedtoyou.Like,itmeantIwasintohisgirlfriendorsomethingbecauseyouweretwins.Hetoldmenottobotheranyway,thatyouweresortofbitterandcynical.”
“DanetoldyouIwasbitter?Bitteraboutwhat?”Iamflabbergasted.
“Imean,Ididn’tknowatthetime,butitseemedtomeshwithhowyouacted.Youclearlydidn’tlikemefromtheget-go.”
“Ionlydidn’tlikeyoubecauseyouweresuchanassholewhenwemet.YoulookedatmeeatingcheesecurdslikeIwasthemostrepulsivewomanyou’deverseen.”
Helooksupatme,eyesnarrowedinconfusion.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Everythingseemedfine,”Isay.“Whileeveryonewasdecidingwhatwewantedtogoseefirst,Iwenttogetsomecheesecurds.Icamebackandyoulookedatthem,lookedatmeincompleterevulsion,andthenwalkedawaytogolookatthebeercompetition.Fromthatpointon,you’vealwaysactedsodisgustedaroundme,andfood.”
Ethanshakeshishead,eyesclosedlikehehastoclearawaythisalternatereality.“Iremembermeetingyou,beingtoldIcouldn’taskyouout,andthengoingtodoourownthingfortheafternoon.Ihavenorecollectionoftherest.”
“Well,Isuredo.”
“Thatcertainlyexplainswhatyousaidyesterday,”hesays,“aboutnotmakingfunofyourbodyduringthemassage.Certainlyexplainswhyyouwerealwayssodismissivetomeafterward.”
“Excuseme?Iwasthedismissiveone?Areyouforrealrightnow?”
“Youactedlikeyouwantednothingtodowithmeafterthatday!”heseethes.“Iwasprobablyjusttryingtogetmyheadonstraightaboutbeingattractedtoyou,andofcourseyouinterpretitassomethingaboutyourbodyandcheesecurds?Jesus,Olive,thatissolikeyou,tofocusonthenegativeineveryinteraction.”
Bloodpulsesinmyears.Idon’tevenknowhowtoprocesswhatI’mhearing,ortheundeniableacheitshovesthroughmethatIthinkhemightberight.Defensivenesspushesasideintrospection:“Well,whoneedstoseetheupsideofthingswhenyou’vegotyourbrothertellingyouthatI’mashrewandtostayawayfrommeanyway?”
Hethrowsuphishands.“Ididn’tseeanythingthatcontradictedwhathe’dsaid!”
Itakeadeepbreath.“Doesitoccurtoyouthatyourattitudecanfosterhowpeoplereacttoyou?Thatyouhurtmyfeelingsbyreactingthatway,whetheryoumeanttoornot?”IammortifiedwhenIfeelmythroatgrowtightwithtears.
“Olive,Idon’tknowhowtosayitmoreplainly:Iwasintoyou,”hegrowls.“You’rehot.AndIwasprobablytryingtohideit.I’msorryforthattotallyunintentionalreaction,Ireallyam,buteveryindicationIhad—fromyouorDane—wasthatyouthoughtIwasawasteofspace.”
“Ididn’tatfirst,”Isay,leavingtherestunsaid.
HeclearlyreadstheIdonowinmyexpression,though,andthelineofhismouthhardens.“Good,”hesays,voicehoarse.“Thenthefeelingisconvenientlymutual.”
“Whatafuckingrelief.”Istareathimfortworapidbreaths,justlongenoughtoimprinthisfaceinthespacemarkedDICKHEADinmybraincyclopedia.AndthenIturn,stormbacktothebedroom,andslamthedoor.
Ifallbackontothebed,reeling.PartofmealmostwantstogetupandmakealistofeverythingthatjusthappenedsoIcanprocessitinsomesortoforganizedway.Like,notonlywasDanesleepingaroundforthefirsttwoyearsofhisrelationshipwithmysister,buthetoldEthannottobotherwithme.
BecauseEthanwantedtoaskmeout.
Idon’tevenknowwhattodowiththisinformationbecauseitissoatoddswithmymentalhistoryofhim.Untilthepastcoupleofdays,therehasneverbeenahintofEthanwantinganythingtodowithme—notevenaflashofsoftnessorwarmth.Ishemakingthatup?
Imean,whywouldhedothat?
Sodoesthatmeanhe’srightaboutme?DidImisinterpreteverythinginthatfirstinteraction,andcarryitwithmeforthepasttwoandahalfyears?WasasingleambiguouslookfromEthanenoughtosendmeintothisplaceofnoreturn,whereIdecidewe’rebitterenemies?AmIreallythatangry?
Ifeelmybreathgrowtightastherestofitnudgesbackintomythoughts:IsitevenpossiblethatAmiknewaboutDaneseeingotherpeople?SheknewIwaslukewarmonhimfromtheget-go—soIhavetogivesomespacetothepossibilitythattheyhadtheirownarrangement,andshedidn’ttellmebecausesheknewIwouldworryorprotestoutofprotectiveness.Frankly,it’shardformetoevenimagineAmiandDaneinanopenrelationship,butwhetherornotit’strue,Ican’texactlycallherfromMauiandask.Thatisnotaphonecallconversation;that’sanin-personconversation,withwine,andsnacks,andacarefullead-in.
Ipickupapillowandscreamintoit.AndwhenIpullitaway,Ihearaquietknockatthebedroomdoor.
“Goaway.”
“Olive,”hesays,soundingmuchcalmer.“Don’tcallAmi.”
“I’mnotcallingAmi,just—seriously—goaway.”
Thehallwayfallssilent,andafewsecondslater,Iheartheheavyclickofthesuitedoorclosing.
???
WHENIWAKEUP,IT’Smidday,andthesunpoursbrightlyacrossthebed,bathingmeinahotrectangleoflight.Irollawayfromit,straightintoapillowthatsmellslikeEthan.
That’sright.HesleptinthisbedwithmelastnightHeiseverywhereinthisroom—intheneatrowofshirtshanginginthecloset,theshoeslinedbythedresser.Hiswatch,hiswallet,hiskeys;evenhisphoneissittingthere.Eventhesoundoftheoceanistaintedwiththememoryofhim,ofhisheadinmylapontheboat,strugglingtoovercomeseasickness.
ForadarkflashIderivesomejoyoutoftheimageofEthansittingmiserablybythepool,surroundedbypeoplehe’dlovetobefriendwhentipsy,butwhomhewantstogenerallyavoidwhensober.ButthejoyfallsawaywhenIremembereverythingaboutourfight:therealitythatI’vespentthepasttwoandahalfyearshatinghimforareactionhehadthatwasn’tatallwhatIthoughtitwas,andtherealitythattheAmi/Daneaspectisn’tgoingtoberesolvedforafewmoredays,atleast.
Whichleavesonlyonethingformetochewon,andthat’sEthanadmittingthathewantedtoaskmeout.
It’sgenuinelyarewriteofmyinternalhistory,andittakesalotofmentalmaneuvering.OfcourseIfoundEthanattractivewhenIfirstmethim,butpersonalityiseverything,andhisleftagiantgapingholeinthecolumnofpositiveattributes.Untilthistrip,thatis,whenhewasnotonlythebestsparringpartnerbutalsoentirelyadorableonseveraloccasions.andfrequentlyshirtless.
Groan.Istandup,walkingtothedoorandpeekingout.NosignofEthaninthelivingroom.Dartingintothebathroom,Iclosethedoorandturnonthefaucet,splashingwateronmyface.Istareatmyselfinthemirror,thinking.
Ethanwantedtoaskmeout.
BecauseEthanlikedme.
DanetoldhimIwasalwaysangry.
IprovedDanerightthatveryfirstday.
Myeyeswidenasanadditionalpossibilityoccurstome:WhatifDanedidn’twantmetodatehisbrother?Whatifhedidn’twantmeinhisbusiness,knowingthathewastheoneplanningallthesetrips,thathewasseeingotherwomen,andGodknowswhatelse?
He’susedEthanasascapegoat,asashield—whatifheusedtheconvenienceofmygrouchyreputationtocreateabufferzone?Whatadick!
Burstingoutofthebathroom,IturntothelefttobeginmyEthanSearchandrundirectlyintohisbrick-wallchest.Theoofthateruptsfrommeiscartoon-levelcomical.Hemakesitworsebycatchingmeeasilyandholdingmeatadistance,lookingdownwarily.IhavethecomicalimageofEthanholdingmebackwithanoutstretchedhandonmyforeheadwhileItrytotakeswingsathimwithineffectuallyshortarms.
Steppingback,Iask,“Wherewereyou?”
“Pool,”hesays,“Iwascomingtograbmyphoneandwallet.”
“Whereareyougoing?”
Heliftsashoulder.“Notsure.”
He’sguardedagain.Ofcoursehe’sguarded.Headmittedhewasattractedtome,andupuntilthistripI’donlyeverbeenrudetohim.ThenIstormedoutoftheroomafterimplyinghe’sstillawasteofmytime.
Idon’tevenknowwheretostart.Irealize,ofthetwoofus,Ihavethemosttosayrightnow.Iwanttostartwithanapology,butit’slikepushingwaterthroughabrick—thewordsjustwon’tcome.
Istartwithsomethingelse:“I’mnottryingtodothatthingIdo,whereIlookfortheworstpossibleexplanationforthings,but.doyouthinkDanewastryingtokeepusapart?”
Ethanimmediatelyscowls.“Idon’twanttotalkaboutDaneorAmirightnow.Wecan’tgetintoitwiththemwhilewe’rehereandthey’rethere.”
“Iknow,okay,I’msorry.”Ilookupathimforabeatandcatchjustaflickerofemotionbehindhiseyes.It’senoughtogivemethebraverytopushon.“Butshouldwetalkaboutus?”
“Whatus?”
“Theusthatishavingthisconversation?”Iwhisper,eyeswidewithmeaning.“Theusthatisonthisvacationtogether,havingafight,having.feelings.”
Hiseyesnarrow.“Idon’tthinkusisaverygoodidea,Olive.”
Thisdenialisgood;it’sfamiliardisagreement.Itbolstersmyresolve.“Why?Becauseweargue?”
“That’saprettymildtermforwhatwedo.”
“Ilikethatweargue,”Itellhim,willingthesticky,tenderwordsout.“Yourex-girlfriendneverevenwantedtodisagree.Myparentswon’tgetadivorcebutdon’tspeaktoeachother.And—Iknowyoudon’twanttotalkaboutit,but—Ifeellikemysisterisinamarriagewhere”—Ihedge,sowedon’tjustgodownthatroadalloveragainandIgetangryagain—“shedoesn’tactuallyknowherhusbandallthatwell.Butit’salwaysbeensafeforustosayexactlywhatwe’rethinkingwitheachother.It’soneofmyfavoritethingsaboutbeingwithyou.Doyouhavethatwitheveryone?”Iask,andwhenhedoesn’timmediatelyanswer,Itellhim,“Iknowyoudon’t.”
Hisbrowspulldown,andIcantellhe’sturningthisaroundinhismind.Hemaybemadatme,butatleasthe’slistening.
Ichewmylip,lookingupathim.Timeforadifferenttack.“YousaidI’mhot.”
EthanThomasrollshiseyesatme.“Youknowyouare.”
Itakeadeepbreath,holdingit.Evenifnothinghappensoncewegetbackhome—anditmightbesmarterforbothofusifwekeepourdistance,becausewhoknowswhatnuclearfallouttherewillbewhenIfinallytalktoAmi—Isincerelydoubtwe’llbeabletokeepourhandstoourselvesforthenextfivedays.
AtleastIknowIwon’t.MyangertowardEthanhasmeltedintoafondnessandattractionsoacuteit’shardtonotthrowmyarmsaroundhiminthishallway,rightnow,evenwhenhe’swearinghissurlyface—furrowedbrows,mouthahardline—andhishandsarecurledintodefensiveballsathisside.MaybeeverytimeIwantedtosmackhiminthepast,Ireallyjustwantedtopressmyfaceontohis.
Inarrowmyeyesbackathim.Iamnotafraidofrelyingoncheapseduction.
Ireachforhishand,andthemovementaccidentallypressesmyboobstogether.
Henotices.Hisnostrilsflare,andhiseyesmovehigheronmyface,asifhe’stryingtokeepthemfromsinking.EthanThomasisdefinitelyaboobman.
Ibitemylip,sawmyteethbackandforth.Inresponse,helickshisownlips,andswallows,holdingsteady.I’mgoingtoneedtoworkforthis.
Itakeastepcloser,reachout,andrestmyotherhandonhisstomach.Holylorditisfirmandwarm,andspasmsslightlybeneathmyfingertips.Myvoiceshakes,butIsenseI’mgettingtohim,anditgivesmetheconfidencetopresson.“Doyourememberkissingmelastnight?”
Heblinkstotheside,exhalingslowly,likehe’sbusted.“Yes.”
“Butdoyourememberit?”Iask,takinganotherstepclosersothatwe’renearlychesttochest.
Hehesitates,andthenlooksbackatme,browsdrawn.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Doyourememberthekissitself?”Myfingersscratchlightlyathisstomach,downtothehemofhisshirt,andIslipmythumbunder,stroking.“Ordoyoujustrememberthatithappened?”
Ethanlickshislipsagain,andfireeruptsinmybelly.“Yes.”
“Wasitgood?”
Icantellhisbreathingisacceleratednow,aswell.Infrontofme,hischestrisesandfallsrapidly.I,too,feellikeIcanbarelygetenoughoxygen.“Yeah.”
“Didyouforgetyourwords,Elvis?”
“Itwasgood,”hemanages,androllshiseyesbutIcanseehimfightingasmile,too.
“Goodhow?”
Hisjawticks,likehewantstoarguewithmeaboutwhyI’maskinghimthiswhenIwasobviouslythere,too,buttheheatinhiseyestellsmehe’sjustasturnedonasIam,andiswillingtoplayalong.“Itwasthekindofkissthatfeelslikefucking.”
Alltheairissuckedoutofmylungs,andI’mleftstaringupathim,speechless.Iwasexpectinghimtosaysomethingsafe,notsomethingthatwouldsendmylibidospiralingoutofanycontrolledorbit.
Runningbothhandsuphischest,Irelishtheexhaledlittlegrunthecan’tseemtokeepcontained.Ihavetoriseonmytoestoreachhim,butIdon’tmindthewayhe’smakingmeworkforit.Withhisgazelockedonmine,hedoesn’tbenduntilI’mrightthere,atthelimitofwhereIcanreach.
Butthenhegivesintoitentirely:withasoftmoanofrelief,hiseyesfallclosed,hisarmscomearoundmywaist,andEthancoversmymouthwithhis.Iflastnight’skissfeltlikeadrunkenimpulse,thisonefeelslikeacompleteunburdening.Hetakesmymouthslowly,andthenwithmorevigoruntilhisdeepgroanvibratesallthewaytothemarrowofmybones.
It’sheaventodigmyhandsintothesilkofhishair,tofeelthewayheliftsmeupfromthefloorsothatI’mathislevel,highenoughformetowrapmylegsaroundhiswaist.Hiskissmakesmecomeundone;Ican’tbeembarrassedthatIfallsoquicklyintowildhungerbecausehe’srighttherewithme,nearlyfrantic.
Ispeakthesinglewordintohismouth:“Bedroom.”
Hecarriesmedownthehall,maneuveringmeeasilythroughthedoorway,towardthebed.Iwanttoeathissoftlittlegrunts,theburstingexhaleshegiveswhenItugonhishairorlickathislipormovemymouthtohisjaw,hisneck,hisear
Ipullhimovermewhenhelowersmetothemattress,takinghisshirtoffbeforehischesteventouchesmine.Allthatsmooth,warmtannedskinundermyhandsmakesmecrazed,likeI’mfeverish.Nexttime,Ithink.NexttimeI’llundresshimslowlyandenjoyeveryinchrevealed,butrightnowIjustneedtofeelhisweightoverme.
Hismouthmakesitswaydownmybody;handsalreadyfamiliarwithmylegsnowexploremybreasts,mystomach,thedelicateskinbesidemyhipbones,andlower.Iwanttotakeapictureofhimlikethis:hissofthairbrushingagainstmystomachashemakeshiswaydown,hiseyesclosedinpleasure.
“Ithinkthisisthelongestwe’vegonewithoutarguing,”hemurmurs.
“Whatifallofthiswasjustarusetogetagreatblackmailphoto?”Iambreathlessashekissesastringofheatacrossmynavel.
“I’vealwayswantedsomeonewhoappreciatesthelongcon.”Hebareshisteeth,bitingthesensitivejunctureofhipandthigh.
Istarttolaughbutthenakissispressedbetweenmylegs,whereIamoverheatedandaching,andEthanreachesup,restingapalmovermyhearttofeelithammering.Withfocusandquiet,encouragingsounds,hemakesmefallapartsothoroughlyIamademolished,gigglingmessinhisarmsafterward.
“Youokaythere,Olivia?”heasks,suckinggentlyatmyneck.
“Asklater.Nonverbalnow.”
Hisgrowltellsmehe’shappywiththisanswer;hungryfingersslideupovermystomach,mybreasts,myshoulders
Imanagetopullmyselftogether,tootemptedbyhiscollarbonesandchesthairandabdomentoletawallopingorgasmkeepmefromexploring.Withhislipspartedandfingerslooselytangledinmyhair,Ethanwatchesmemovedownhisbody,kissinghim,tastinghimuntilhestopsmewithtense,darkeyes.
Reachingdown,hepullsmebackupandrollsoverontomeinanimpressivedisplayofagility.Ifeeltheairsweetlypressedoutofmylungs,thesmoothslideofhisbodyovermine.
“Thisokay?”heasks.
I’darguewithhimaboutthewordokaywhenthingsareveryclearlysublime,butnowisnotthetimetonitpick.“Yeah.Yes.Perfect.”
“Youwantto?”Ethansucksatmyshoulder,slidinghiswarmpalmupandovermyhip,tomywaist,myribs,andbackdownagain.
“Yeah.”Igulpdownanenormousbreathofair.“Doyou?”
Henodsagainstme,andthenlaughsquietly,comingupforakiss.“Ireally,reallydo.”
Mybodyscreamsyesjustasmymindscreamsbirthcontrol.
“Wait.Condoms,”Igroanintohismouth.
“I’vegotsome.”Hejumpsup,andI’mdistractedenoughbytheviewofhimcrossingtheroomthatittakesmeasecondtorealizewhathe’ssaid.
“Whowereyouplanningonhavingsexwithonthistrip?”Iaskhim,fakescowlingoverfromthebed.“Andinwhichbed?”
Hetearsopentheboxandglancesatme.“Idon’tknow.Bettertobeprepared,right?”
Atthis,Ipushuponanelbow.“Wereyouthinkingyou’dhavesexwithme?”
Ethanlaughs,rippingthefoilopenwithhisteeth.“Definitelynotyou.”
“Rude.”
Hemakeshiswaybackovertome,treatingmetoaverylovelyview.“IthinkitwouldhavebeendelusionalformetothinkIcouldevergetthislucky.”
Doesheknowhe’schosentheperfectwordstocompletethismadseduction?Icanhardlyargue;beingwithhimrightnowrepresentsthemostastonishingluckI’veeverhad,too.Andwhenheclimbsoverme,pressinghismouthtomineandrunningahanddownmythightocupmykneeandpullitupoverhiship,arguingissuddenlythelastthingonmymind.chaptertwelve
Ethanlooksatme,smiles,andthenturnshisheaddownandpokesathislunch.It’sanironicallybashfulexpressionforthehot,objectifyingpervertwho,barelyahalfhourago,watchedmewiththeintensityofapredatorwhileIgotdressed.WhenIaskedhimwhathewasdoing,hesaid,“Justhavingamoment.”
“Whatkindofmomentwereyouhaving?”Iasknow,andEthanlooksbackup.
“Moment—what?”
IrealizeI’mdiggingforacompliment.HewaswatchingmegetdressedwithathirstIdidn’tseeinhiseyesevenonmaitainight.ButIguessI’mstillinthatweirdfuguewhereIdon’tactuallybelievethatwe’regettingalongswimmingly,letalonehavingfunbeingnakedtogether.
“Intheroom,”Isay.“‘Havingamoment.’”
“Oh,”hesays,andwinces.“Yeah.Aboutthat.Wasjustfreakingoutalittleoverhavingsexwithyou.”
Ibarkoutalaugh.Ithinkhe’sjoking.“Thankyouforbeingsoconsistentlyon-brand.”
“No,butreally,”heamendswithasmile,“Iwasenjoyingwatching.Ilikedseeingyouputyourclothesbackon.”
“Onewouldthinktheundressingpartwouldbethehighlight.”
“Itwas.Believeme.”Hetakesabite,chewingandswallowingwhilestudyingme,andsomethinginhisexpressiontakesmebackanhour,towhenhekeptwhispering,It’sgood,sogood,inmyearbeforeIfelltopiecesbeneathhim.“Butafterward,seeingyouputyourselfbacktogetherwas..”Heglancesovermyshoulder,searchingfortherightword,andI’mguessingit’sgoingtobeagreatone—sexy,orseductive,orperhapslife-altering—butthenhisexpressionturnssour.
Ipointmyforkathim.“Thatisnotagoodfaceforthisconversation.”
“Sophie,”hesays,bothinexplanationandgreetingasshestepsuptothetable,cocktailinonehandandBilly’sarmintheother.
Ofcourse.Imean,ofcoursesheapproachesusrightnow,wearingabikiniunderatiny,sheercover-up,lookinglikeshejustwalkedoffthesetofaSportsIllustratedphotoshoot.Meanwhile,myhairistwistedupinahaystackonmyhead,Ihavezeromakeupon,andamsex-sweaty,wearingrunningshortsandaT-shirtfeaturingsmilingketchupandmustardbottlesdancingtogether.
“Heyguys!”Hervoiceissohigh-pitchedit’slikehavingsomeoneblowawhistlenexttoyourhead.
IstudyEthanfromacrossthetable,eternallycurioushowthatrelationshipworkedonceuponatime:Ethanwithhisdeep,warm-honeyvoice;Sophiewithhercartoonmousevoice.Ethanwithhiswatchfulgaze;Sophiewithhereyesthatbouncealloveraroom,searchingforthenextinterestingthing.He’salsosomuchbiggerthansheis.ForasecondIimaginehimcarryingheraroundtheTwinCitiesinaBabyBj?rn,andhavetoswallowbackagiantcackle.
Weletoutaflaccid“Hey,”inunison.
“Catchingalatelunch?”sheasks.
“Yeah,”hesays,andthenputsonaplasticexpressionofmaritalhappiness.IfIrecognizehowforceditis,Sophie—hislive-ingirlfriendofnearlytwoyears—hasgottoseethroughit,too.“Spentthedayin.”
“Inbed,”Iadd,tooloudly.
EthanlooksatmelikeIameternallyhopeless.Heexhalesthroughhisnoseinalong,patientstream.Foronce,I’mnotevenlyingandIstillsoundlikeamaniac.
“Thatwasourdayyesterday.”Sophie’seyesslidetoBilly.“Fun,right?”
Thisentirethingissoweird.Whotalkstoeachotherlikethis?
Billynods,butisn’tlookingatus—whocanblamehim?Hedoesn’twanttohangoutwithusanymorethanwewantthemhere.Buthisreactionisclearlynotenoughforherbecauseacloudyfrownsweepsacrossherface.SheglancesatEthan,hungrily,andthenawayagain,liketheloneliestwomanontheplanet.Iwonderhowhe’dfeelifhelookedupandnoticedit—theflat-outyearninginherexpression,theDidImakeamistake?expression—buthe’sbacktoobliviouslypokingathisnoodles.
“So,”shesays,staringdirectlyatEthan.Itlookslikeshe’ssendinghimmessageswiththepowerofhermind.
Theyarenotpenetrating.
Finally,heglancesupwithaforcedblankexpression.“Hm?”
“Maybewecangetdrinkslater.Talk?”She’sclearlyaskinghim,singular,notus,plural.AndIassumeBillyisalsonotincludedintheinvitation.
Iwanttoaskher,Nowyouwanttotalk?Youdidn’twhenhewasyours!
ButIrefrain.Anawkwardweightdescends,andIlookupatBillytoseewhetherhefeelsit,too,buthe’spulledhisphoneoutofhispocketandisscrollingthroughInstagram.
“I’mnot..”Ethanlooksoveratme,browsdrawn.“Imean,maybe?”
IgivehimanAreyoufuckingserious?face,buthemissesit.
“Textme?”sheaskssoftly.
Heletsoutagarbledsoundofagreement,andIwanttosnapapictureofherexpressionandhistoshowhimlaterandmakehimexplainwhatthehellishappening.DoesSophieregretbreakingupwithEthan?Orisitonlybotheringherbecausehe’s“married”andnotpiningoverheranymore?
Thisdynamicisfascinating.andjustso,soweird.There’snootherwaytoexplainit.
Iletmyselfimaginethisbubblypersoninfrontofmeleavinganotethatsayssimply,Idon’tthinkweshouldgetmarried.Sorry.
And,infact,Icantotallyseeit.She’scandy-sweetatthesurfaceandprobablyterribleatcommunicatingnegativeemotions.Meanwhile,I’mlikeasourpatchkidonthesurface,butwillhappilydetailallthewaysIthinktheworldisgoingtohell.
Afterlingeringforafewmorestiltedbeats,SophietugsatBilly’sarm,andtheymaketheirwaytowardtheexitEthanletsoutalongbreathaimedathisplate.
“Seriously,whydotheyinsistonsocializingwithus?”Iask.
Hetakeshisgrumpyfeelingsoutonapieceofchicken,harshlystabbingit“Noidea.”
“Ithinkdrinkstonightwouldbeabadidea.”
Henodsbutdoesn’tsayanything.
IturntowatchSophie’shighandfirmretreatingbackside,thenlookbacktoEthan.“Youokay?”
Imean,wehadsexlikeanhourago.Evenwithhisubiquitousexwanderingaroundthehotel,thecorrectanswerhereisYes,right?
EthannodsandgivesmewhatI’vecometoknowisafakesmile.“I’mfine.”
“Good,becauseIwasabouttoflipthetableoverthewayshewasstaringatyouwithsaddogeyes.”
Heliftshishead.“Shewhat?”
Idon’tlikehowimmediatelythisperkedhimup.Iwanttobehonestwithhim,butmywordscomeoutforced.“Just—sheseemedtowanttomakeeyecontactwithyou.”
“Imean,wemadeeyecontact.Sheaskedtomeetusfordrinks..”
“Yeah,no.Shewantedtomeetyoufordrinks.”
Ethanverydeliberatelytriestolookcoolaboutthisanddoesaverybadjobatit.He’sfightingagloatingsmile.
AndIgetit.Whohasn’twantedtowavetheirshinynewrelationshipinthefaceofthepersonwhodumpedthem?Eventhebestamongusaren’tabovethatkindofpettiness.Andyet,heatrushestomyface.I’mnotjustwaryinthismoment,I’mhumiliated.Averyobviousvacationscrew.Attheveryleast,dude,putawayyourbonerforyourexforagoodsixhoursafterhavingsexwithsomeoneelse.
Istopmyself.
ThisisexactlywhatIdo.Iassumetheworst.Needingabreak,Istandanddropmynapkinonthetable.“I’mgoingtoheadupandshower.ThinkIwanttodosomeshoppingaroundthehotelshopsforsouvenirs.”
Hestands,too,moreoutofsurprisethancourtesy,Ithink.“Okay.Icould—”
“No,it’sokay.I’llcatchupwithyoulater.”
Hedoesn’tsayanythingelse,andwhenIlookbackneartheexit,hisexpressionishiddenfromme:he’sbackinhisseat,staringdownathismeal.
???
RETAILTHERAPYISREALANDglorious.I’mabletonoodlearoundthehotelshopsandfindafewthank-yougiftsforAmi,somesouvenirsformyparents,andIevenbuyaT-shirtforDane.Hemaybeajerkface,buthedidmisshishoneymoon.
AlthoughIcanlosemyselfinthementalblanknessofperusingoverpricedislandtchotchkes,inthebackground,thelowhumofirritationwithEthanremains,andisaccompaniedbythethrobbingbaselineofstressoverwhetherwemadeaterriblemistakebysleepingtogether.It’spossiblewedid,andifso,we’vejustmadetheremainingfivedayshereexponentiallymoreawkwardthantheywouldbeifwestillhatedeachother.
Thisdayhasbeenemotionallydraining:wakingupwiththememoryofakiss,afightwithEthan,therealizationaboutDane,reconciliationandsex,andthenthepredictabledailySophierun-inthatwedgedawholeboatloadofuncertaintybetweenus.Thisdayhaslastedfouryears.
Myfirstgo-towheneverI’mupsethasalwaysbeenmysister.Ipulloutmyphoneandfocusontheswayingpalmtreesoverheadinitsreflection.Iwanttoaskifshe’sokay.IwanttoaskifDaneisaround,toseewhathe’sbeendoing,andwithwho.IreallywantheradviceaboutEthan,butknowthatIcan’tgetintoanyofthatwithoutexplainingallthedetailsthatleduptoitfirst.
Ican’tdothatoverthephone.Icertainlycan’tdoitovertextwithher.So,needingsomeanchortohome,ItextDiegoinstead.
What’sthelatestinthefrozentundra?
Ihadadatelastnight.
Oooh,wasitgood?
Hereachedforwardtoretrieveapieceoffoodfrommyteethwithoutwarning.
So.no,then?
I’mguessingyouandEthanhaven’tmurderedeachotheryet?
Close,butno.
NowisdefinitelynotthetimetobreakthenewsthatEthanandIdidTheDeed,andDiegoisdefinitelynottheonetotell—I’llloseallaspectsofmessagecontrol.
WellI’msureyou’remanagingtosomehowsufferthroughadreamvacation.
No,it’samazing.EvenIcan’tcomplain.HowisAmi?
Emaciated,bored,marriedtoabro.
Andmom/dad?
RumorhasityourdadbroughtherflowersandshepulledoffeverypetalandusedthemtospellPUTAinthesnow.
Wow.That’s.Wow.
So,allisthesamehere.
Isigh.That’sexactlywhatIworriedabout.
OK.I’llseeyouinafewdays.
Missyou,mami.
Missyou,too.
Ireturntotheroomwithmybags,expecting—maybehoping—thatEthanisoutsothatIcanusethecalmofmypost-shoppingbraintofigureouthowI’mgoingtohandlehim.
Butofcoursehe’sthere,showered,dressed,andsittingonthebalconywithabook.Hehearsmecomein,andstands,steppinginside.
“Hey.”
JustaglanceathimandI’mrememberingwhathappenedonlyafewhoursago,andhowhelookeddownatme,eyesheavy,mouthslackwithpleasure.Idropthebagsontoachairinthelivingroomandbusymyselfbydiggingthroughthemtopretendtolookforsomething.“Hey,”Isay,faux-distracted.
“Didyouwanttograbdinner?”heasks.
MystomachrumblesbutIlie:“Um.notsuperhungry.”
“Oh.Iwasjustwaitingtosee—”Hecutsthewordsshort,rubbinghischinwithmildaggravation.
Myresponsetothisiscompletelyunrelated,butit’swhatmybraindecidestothrowoutintotheroom:“IthoughtyoumightbehavingdrinkswithSophie.”
Hehasthenervetolookconfused.“I.no?”
“Youcouldhavegonetodinnerwithoutme,youknow.”Idon’thaveanythingtodowithmyhands,soIaggressivelyrollmyplasticshoppingbagclosedandshoveitdeeperonthechair.“Wedon’thavetoeateverymealtogether.”
“WhatifIwantedtogowithyou?”heasks,studyingme,clearlyvexed.“Wouldthatbreakyournew,confusingrules?”
Ibarkoutalaugh.“Rules?Whatarerules?”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Yousleepwithmeandthenhaveanemotionalbrainfartwithmeinfrontofyourex.Iwouldsaythat’sbreakingaprettybigrule.”
Hefrownsimmediately.“Wait.ThisisaboutSophie?Isthisanothercheesecurdmisreadingofthesituation?”
“No,Ethan,itisn’t.Idon’tgiveacrapaboutSophie.Thisisaboutme.YouweremorefocusedonherreactiontoyouthanyouwereonwhatIwasfeelinginthemoment.Idon’toftenputmyselfinsituationswhereI’mareboundoradistraction,andsoyoucanprobablyunderstandthatitwasawkwardformetoseeher,tooButyouhadzeroawarenessofit.Andobviouslythat’stobeexpectedifyoudon’thavefeelingsforme,but..”Itrailofflamely.“Anyway.It’snotaboutSophie.”
Ethanpauses,mouthopenlikehewantstospeakbutisn’tsurewhattosayFinally,hemanages,“WhatmakesyouthinkIdon’thavefeelingsforyou?”
It’smyturntohesitate.“Youdidn’tsayyoudid.”
“Ididn’tsayIdidn’t,either.”
Iamtemptedtocontinuethisridiculousnessjusttobeabrat,butsomeonehastobeanadulthere.“Pleasedon’tpretendyoudon’tunderstandwhyI’mpissed.”
“Olive,we’vebarelyhadaconversationsincewehadsex.Whatdoyouhavetobepissedabout?”
“Youweretotallyfreakingoutatlunch!”
“You’refreakingoutnow!”
Irealizethathe’snotdenyinganythingI’vesaid.“OfcourseI’mgoingtobeannoyedwatchingyouquietlysoakupSophie’sjealousyafteryoujusthadsexwithme.”
“‘Quietlysoakup—’?”Hestops,shakinghishead.Ethanholdsuphishandsinarequestforatemporarycease-fire.“Canwejustgetdinner?Iamstarvingandhavenoideawhat’sgoingonhere.”
???
PERHAPSUNSURPRISINGLY,DINNERISTENSEandsilent.Ethanordersasalad,Iorderasalad—clearlywedonotwanttohavetowaitlongforourfoodtoarrive.Webothavoidalcohol,too,butIcouldhonestlyuseafewmargaritas
Oncethewaitressleaves,Ipulloutmyphoneandpretendtobeincrediblybusy,butreallyI’mjustplayingpoker.
Obviously,Iwasright:thesexwasahugemistake,andnowwehavefivedayslefttogether.ShouldIsuckitup,pulloutthecreditcard,andgetaroomformyself?Itwouldbeahugeexpense,butitmightallowthevacationtocontinuetobefun.Icoulddoalltheactivitiesleftonmybucketlist,andevenifit’s30percentasfunasdoingitwithEthan,it’sstill100percentmorefunthanI’dbehavingathome.ButtheideathatImaybedonewiththeparticularbrandofEthan-hasslingfunI’vebeenenjoyingsofarisabummer.
“Olive.”
Ilookupinsurprisewhenhesaysit,buthedoesn’timmediatelycontinue“Yeah?”
Heopenshisnapkin,setsitonhislap,andleansonhisforearms,meetingmyeyesdirectly.“I’msorry.”
Ican’ttellifit’sanapologyforlunch,forthesex,orforaboutahundredotherthingshecouldprobablystandtoapologizefor.“About.?”
“Aboutlunch,”hesaysgently.“Ishouldhavefocusedonlyonyou.”Hepausesandrunsafingeroveradarkbrow.“Iwasn’tatallinterestedinhavingdrinkswithSophie.IfIwaswithdrawn,itwasbecauseIwashungryandtiredofrunningintoher.”
“Oh.”Everythinginmyheadseemstocometoastandstill,wordsmomentarilyonhiatus.Thatwassomucheasierthangettinganewhotelroom.“Okay.”
Hesmiles.“Idon’twantthingstobeweirdwithus.”
Frowning,Iask,“Wait.Areyouapologizingsoyoucanhavesexwithmeagain?”
Ethanlookslikehecan’tdecideifhewantstolaughorthrowhisforkatme.“IthinkI’mapologizingbecausemyemotionstellmeIneedto?”
“Youhaveemotionsbesidesirritation?”
Nowhelaughs.“Idon’tthinkIregisteredthatIseemedtobequietlyenjoyingherjealousy.Iwon’tlieandsaythatitdoesn’tbringmesomepleasurethatshe’sjealous,butthat’sindependentofhowIfeelaboutyou.Ididn’tmeantoseempreoccupiedwithSophieafterwe’djustbeentogether.”
Wow.Didsomewomantexthimthatapology?Thatwasfantastic.
“Shetextedmeearlier,andIreplied,”hesays,andturnshisphonearoundsoIcanreadit.Thetextsayssimply,Gonnapassondrinks.Haveanicetrip.“Beforeyougotbacktotheroom.Lookatthetimestamp,”hesays,andpoints,grinning.“Youcan’tevensaythatIdiditbecauseyouweremad,becauseIhadnoideayouweremad.Finally,mycluelessnesscomesinhandy.”
Ourwaitressslidesoursaladsdowninfrontofus,andnowthatthingsarebetterbetweenus,Iregretnotgettingaburger.Forkingapieceoflettuce,Isay,“Okay,cool.”
“‘Okay,cool,’”herepeatsslowly.“That’sit?”
Ilookupathim.“Imeanit:thatwasanimpressiveapology.Wecangobacktobeingrudetoeachotherforfunnow.”
“WhatifIfeltlikebeingnicetoeachotherforfunnow?”heasks,andthenflagsdownthewaitress.
Inarrowmyeyesathim.“I’mtryingtoimagine‘nice’onyou.”
“Youwereprettyniceonmeearlier,”hesaysinaquietgrowl.
“See?Iknewyouapologizedjusttohavesexwithmeagain.”
Atthesideofthetable,athroatclears.Webothlookuptoseethatthewaitresshasreturned.
“Oh.Hi.Thatwastimely.”Iwavetoher,andEthanlaughs.
“CanwegetabottleoftheBergstromCumberlandpinot?”heasksher.
Sheleavesandheshakeshisheadatme.
“You’regoingtoloosenmeupwithalcoholnow?”Iask,grinning.“That’soneofmyfavoritewines.”
“Iknow.”Hereachesacrossthetable,takingmyhand,andmyinsidesturnwarmandwavy“Andno,I’mgoingtoloosenyouupbyrefusingtofightwithyou.”
“Youwon’tbeabletoresist.”
Bending,hekissesmyknuckles.“Wannabet?”chapterthirteen
AsEthanchatterseasilythroughouthismealandintodessert,Istareathim,workingtonotletmyjawfallopentoofrequently:Idon’tthinkI’veseenhimsmilethismuch,ever.
Partofmewantstopullmyphonebackoutandtakeapicture;it’sthesamepartofmethatwantstocatalogeveryoneofhisfeatures:thedramaticbrowsandlashes;thecontrastofhisbrighteyes;thestraightRomanlineofhisnose;hisfull,intelligentmouth.Igetthesensethatwe’relivingonacloud;nomatterwhatItellmyheadandmyheart,IworryI’minforaroughcrashlandingwhenweflyhometoMinnesotainamatterofdays.AsmuchasIfightthethought,itkeepsreturning,uninvited:Thiscan’tlast.It’stoogood.
Hedragsastrawberrythroughadrizzleofchocolatesyrupbesidethecheesecakewe’resharing,andholdstheforkaloft.“IwasthinkingwecoulddoHaleakal?atsunrisetomorrow.”
“What’sthat?”Istealtheforkandeattheperfectbitehe’scrafted.Hedoesn’tevenscowl—hesmiles—andItrytonotletthisthrowme.EthanThomasistotallyfinewithmeeatingoffhisfork.OliveTorresfromtwoweeksagoisfloored.
“It’sthehighestpointontheisland,”heexplains.“AccordingtoCarlyatthefrontdeskit’sthebestviewaround,butwehavetogetthereprettyearly.”
“Carlyatthefrontdesk,eh?”
Helaughs.“Ihadtofindsomeonetotalktowhileyouwereoffshoppingallafternoon.”
OnlyaweekagoIwouldhavemadeacuttingsarcasticremarkinresponsetothis,butmybrainisfullofnothingbutheart-eyesandtheurgetokisshim
SoIreachacrossthetableforhishand.Hetakesminewithoutanyhesitation,likeitisthemostnaturalthingintheworld.
“SoIthink,”Isayquietly,“thatifwe’regoingtobeupforthesunrise,weshouldprobablygettobedsoon.”
Hislipspart,eyesdroptomymouthEthanThomasisquickontheuptake:“Ithinkyou’reright.”
???
ETHAN’SALARMGOESOFFATfour,andwestartleawake,mumbleintothedarkness,androllinanaked,sheet-tangledtumblefrombedandintoourlayersofclothing.Althoughweareonatropicalisland,FrontDeskCarlytoldEthanthepredawntemperaturesatthepeakofthemountainarefrequentlybelowfreezing.
Despiteourbestintentionsforanearlybedtime,themankeptmeupforseveralhourswithhishands,andmouth,andashockinglylargevocabularyofdirtywords;itfeelslikeathicksexfoghoversinmybrainevenwhenheturnsonthelightsinthelivingroom.Withteethbrushedandkissesgiven,EthanbrewscoffeeandIpackabagwithwater,fruit,andgranolabars.
“Wannahearmymountain-climbingstory?”Iask.
“Isbadluckinvolved?”
“Youknowit.”
“Let’shearit.”
“Summeraftersophomoreyearincollege,”Ibegin,“Ami,Jules,Diego,andItookatriptoYosemitebecauseJuleswasonafitnesskickandwantedtoclimbHalfDome.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yes!”Ising.“It’saterriblestory.So,AmiandJuleswereingreatshape,butDiegoandIwere,let’ssay,moremarathoncouchpotatoesthanrunners.Ofcourse,thehikeitselfisinsaneandIthoughtIwasgoingtodieatleastfiftytimes—whichhasnothingtodowithluck,justlaziness—butthenwestartthefinalverticalascentupthesubdome.NoonetoldmetowatchoutwhereIputmyhands.Ireachedintoacrevicetogetagripandgrabbedarattlesnake.”
“What!”
“Yeah,bitbyafuckingrattlesnake,andfelllikefifteenfeet.”
Ethangapesatme.“Whatdidyoudo?”
“Well,Diegowasn’tgoingtoclimbthatlaststretch,sohewastherestandingoverme,actinglikehisplanwastopeeonmyhand.Thankfullytherangercameoverandhadsomeantivenin,anditwasokay.”
“See?”Ethansays.“That’slucky.”
“Tobebitten?Tofall?”
Helaughsincredulously.“Luckythattheyhadtheantivenin.Youdidn’tdieonHalfDome.”
Ishrug,droppingacoupleofbananasinthebackpack.“Iseewhatyou’resaying.”
Icanfeelhimstillwatchingme.
“Youdon’treallybelievethis,though,right?”Offmylook,headds,“Thatyouhavesomesortofchronicallybadluck?”
“Absolutely.I’vealreadysharedacoupleofwinners,butjusttokeepitrecent:Ilostmyjobthedayaftermyroommatemovedout.InJune,Igotsomecarrepairsdoneandaticketwhenahit-and-runshovedmybrand-newcarintoano-parkingzone.Andthissummeranoldwomanfellasleeponmyshoulderonthebus,andIonlyrealizedshewasdead,andnotactuallyasleep,afterI’dmissedmystop.”
Hiseyesgowide.
“I’mkiddingaboutthatlastone.Idon’teventakethebus.”
Ethanbends,cuppinghishandsoverhisknees.“Idon’tknowwhatIwouldactuallydoifsomeonediedonme.”
“Ithinktheoddsareprettyslim.”Evenhalf-asleep,IgrinasIpourourcoffeeintotwopapercupsandslideoneinfrontofEthan.
Straightening,hesays,“IguessI’msuggestingthatyougivetheideaoflucktoomuchpower.”
“Youmeanhowpositivitybreedspositivity?Pleasedon’ttellmeyouthinkyou’rethefirstonetomentionthistome.Irealizepartofitisoutlook,buthonestly—it’sluck,too.”
“Okay,but.myluckypennyisjustacoin.Itdoesn’thaveanygreatpower,it’snotmagic,it’sjustsomethingIfoundbeforeabunchofawesomethingshappened.SonowIassociateitwiththoseawesomethings.”Heliftshischintome.“IhadmypennythenightweranintoSophie.Logically,ifeverythingwasaboutluck,thatwouldn’thavehappened.”
“Unlessmybadluckcounteredyourgoodluck.”
Hisarmscomearoundmywaist,andhepullsmeintotheheatofhischest.I’mstillsounaccustomedtotheeaseofhisaffectionthatthrillpassesinashiverdownmyspine.
“You’reamenace,”hesaysintothetopofmyhead.
“It’sjusthowI’mbuilt,”Itellhim.“AmiandIarelikephotonegatives.”
“It’snotabadthing.”Hetiltsmychin,kissingmeonce,slowly.“We’renotsupposedtobecarboncopiesofoursiblingsevenwhenweareoutwardlyidentical.”
Ithinkaboutallthisaswemoveintothehallway.I’vespentmyentirelifebeingcomparedtoAmi;it’snicehavingsomeonelikemeforme.
But,ofcourse,thisawareness—thathelikesmethewayIam—tripsthefollowingone,andoncewe’reintheelevatorandheadedtothelobby,thethoughtburstsoutofme,unattended.“IguessI’maprettyfirmone-eightyfromSophie,too.”
Iimmediatelywanttosiftthewordsoutoftheairandshovethembackintomyface.
“Iguess,yeah,”hesays.
Iwanthimtoadd,“Butnotinabadway,”again,oreven“I’mglad,”buthejustgrinsdownatme,waitingformetospewsomemorenonsense.
Iwillnotindulgehim.Ibitemylipsclosedandglareupathim:heknowsexactlywhathe’sdoing.Whatamonster.
Ethancontinuestosmiledownatme.“Areyoujealous?”
“ShouldIbe?”Iask,andthenimmediatelyamend,“Imean,we’rejusthavingavacationfling,aren’twe?”
Heletssurpriseslowly—skeptically—takeoverhisfeatures.“Oh,isthatallthisis?”
Thewaythislandsfeelslikeaboulderrollingdownmyspine.We’reonlyacoupleofdaysawayfromhateandintotenderness—it’swaytoosoontobetalkingaboutthisinanyseriousway.
Orisit?Imean,technicallywe’rein-lawsnow.It’snotlikewecanleavetheislandandneverseeeachotheragain;atsomepointwe’regoingtohavetodealwithwhatwe’redoing.andwhatthefalloutwillbe.
Westepoutoftheelevator,passthroughthelobby,and,inthedarkness,getintoacab;Istillhaven’tansweredhim.ThisisoneIneedtositwithforalittlebit,andEthanisapparentlyfinewiththatbecausehedoesn’tpromptmeagain.
What’samazingisthatevenatfourthirtyinthemorningthereistrafficheadedupthroughthenationalparktothecrater’speak;therearevanswithbicycles,hikinggroups,andcoupleslikeus—we’reasortofcouple—planningtolaydownatowelandhuddletogetherinthemorningchill.
Ittakesanhourtogetthroughthetrafficandtothetop,wherewescrabbleupaseriesofrockstothepeak.Eventhoughtheskyisstillmostlydark,theviewisbreathtaking.Thereareclustersofpeoplestandinghuddledtogetherinthecoldorsittingonthegroundwithblankets,butit’soddlyquiet,likeeveryoneisrespectfulenoughtokeeptheirvoicesdownwhenthey’reabouttowitnessa360-degreesunrise.
Ethanspreadsoutacoupleofbeachtowelsweborrowedfromthehotelandbeckonsmedown.Heguidesmetositbetweenhislong,outstretchedlegsandpullsmebackagainsthischest.Ican’timaginehe’sverycomfortable,butIaminheaven,soIgiveintoitandjustletmyguarddownforalong,quietstretch.
IwishIknewwhatwashappening,bothbetweenusandinsidemyheart.Itfeelsliketheorganitselfhasgottenbigger,likeit’sdemandingtobeseenandheard,remindingmethatIamawarm-bloodedfemalewithwantsandneedsthatgobeyondthebasics.BeingwithEthanincreasinglyfeelslikespoilingmyselfwithaperfectnewpairofshoesoranextravagantdinnerout.IjustremainunconvincedthatIdeservethisdaily.orthatitcanlast.
It’sobvioustomethatwe’vebothfallenintoquietreflectionaboutus,andI’mnotatallsurprisedwhenhesays,“Iaskedyousomethingearlier.”
“Iknow.”
We’rejusthavingavacationfling,aren’twe?
Oh,isthatallthisis?
Hegoesquietagain;obviouslyhedoesn’thavetorepeatwhathesaid.ButIdon’tfeelentirelysurewheremyheadisonthisparticularissue.“I’m.thinking.”
“Thinkoutloud,”hesays.“Withme.”
Myheartdoesthistight,twistingmaneuveratthewayhesoeasilyasksmeforwhatheneedsandknowsIcangivehim:transparency.
“Wedidn’tevenlikeeachotheraweekago,”Iremindhim.
Hismouthcomestoagentlelandingonthesideofmyneck.“Ithinkweshouldchalkallthatuptoasillymisunderstanding.WouldithelpifItreatedyoutocheesecurdswhenwegothome?”
“Yes.”
“You’dpromisetosharethemwithme?”Hekissesmeagain.
“Onlyifyouaskverynicely.”
Atthispoint,Icanonlyattributemyownpre-MauifeelingsaboutEthantobeingreactionaryanddefensive.Whensomeonedoesn’tlikeus,it’snaturaltonotliketheminreturn,right?ButthememorythatDanetoldhimIwasalwaysangrydoesbringupsomethingEthanhasbeenhesitanttodiscuss.
IknowItendtobethepessimisttoAmi’soptimist,butI’mnotangry.I’mnotsharp.Iamcautiousandwary.ThefactthatDanetoldEthanthat—andthatDanehappenedtobesleepingwithotherwomenwhenhesaidit—makesmeparticularlywaryofDane.
“Idon’tthinkwecanhavethisconversationwithoutalsoexploringthepossibilitythatDanewantedtokeepusawayfromeachother.”
IfeelthewayhestiffenswhenIsaythis,buthedoesn’tmoveawayorletmego.“Whywouldhedothat,though?”
“Mytheory?”Isay.“HeletAmibelievehewasmonogamous,andyouknewhewasn’t.IfyouandIstartedtalking,itwouldeventuallyslipoutthathewasseeingotherpeople.Justlikeitdid,here.”
Behindme,Ethanshrugs,andIknowhimwellenoughnowtoimaginetheexpressionhe’smaking:unconvinced,butunconcerned.“Itprobablyjustfeltweirdtohim,”hesays.“Theideaofhisbigbrotherdatinghisgirlfriend’stwinsister.”
“IfIagreedtogooutwithyou,”Iadd.
“Areyoutellingmeyouwouldn’thave?”hecounters.“Isawthethirstinyoureyes,too,Olivia.”
“Imean,you’renothorribletolookat.”
“Neitherareyou.”
Thesewordsarespokenintothesensitiveskinbehindmyear;theparticularOlive-and-Ethanbrandofcomplimentblowsthroughme,softandseductive.Ethan’sreactiontomeattheweddinggavenoindicationhethoughtanythingotherthanthatIwasashortgreensatintroll.“I’mstillrewiringthataspectofthings.”
“Ialwaysassumedmyattractionwasobvious.Iwantedtotranslateyourfrownsandfindoutwhatyourproblemwithmewasandthenbendyouoverthebackofmycouch.”
Allofmyinternalorgansturntogooathiswords.Iworktoremainupright,lettingmyheadfallbackintothecrookofhisneck
“Youstillhaven’tansweredmyquestion,”heremindsmequietly.
Ibitebackasmileathispersistence.“Isthisjustafling?”
“Yeah,”hesays.“I’mfinewithafling,Iguess,butIwanttoknowsoIcanfigureouthowtohandleitoncewe’rehome.”
“Youmeanwhetherornotyou’lltellDane?”Iaskcarefully.
“ImeanwhetherI’llneedsometimetogetoveryou.”
Thiscorkscrewsanachethroughmyheart.IturnmyheadsothatIcanmeethiskissashebendstodeliveritandletthefeelingofreliefandhungerwashoverme.ItrytoimagineseeingEthanatAmiandDane’shouse,keepingmydistance,andnotwantingtotouchhimlikethis.
Ican’t.Eveninmyimaginationit’simpossible
“I’mnotentirelydonewithwhateverthisis,”Iadmit.“Evenifitisafling,itdoesn’tfeel—”
“Don’tsayit.”
“—flung.”Igrinupathimandhegroans.
“Thatwasalmostasbadasyour‘onthecuff’lineatthewedding.”
“Iknewthatwouldholdaspecialplaceinyourmemory.”
Ethanbareshisteethonmyneck,growling.
“So,IguesswhatI’msayingis,”Ibegin,andthentakeadeepbreathlikeI’mabouttojumpoffacliffintoapoolofdarkwater,“ifyouwantedtokeepseeingeachotheroncewe’rehome,Iwouldn’tbetotallyopposed.”
Hismouthmovesupmyneck,sucking.Hishandslidesbeneathmyjacketandshirt,comingtoawarmstopovermybreastbone.“Yeah?”
“Whatdoyouthink?”
“IthinkIlikeit.”Hekissesalongmyjawtomymouth.“IthinkthismeansIgettodothisevenafterourfakehoneymoonisover.”
Iarchintohispalm,urgingitoverwithmyownhanduntilhe’scuppingmybreast.Butwithafrustratedgrowl,Ethanpullshisfingersbackdowntomystomach.“Iwishwe’dhadthisconversationbackattheroom.”
“Metoo.”Becausewedefinitelycan’tfoolaroundnow:thesunisn’tvisibleyet,butit’soffthehorizon,lightingtheskyamillionshadesoforange,red,purple,andblue.
“Didwejustdecidesomething?”heasks.
Isqueezemyeyesclosed,grinning.“Ithinkso.”
“Good.BecauseI’msortofcrazyaboutyou.”
Holdingmybreath,Iquietlyadmit,“I’mcrazyaboutyou,too.”
Iknow,ifIturnedbacktolookathisface,he’dbesmiling.Ifeelitinthewaythebandofhisarmstightensaroundme.
Wewatchtogetherastheskycontinuestotransformeveryfewseconds,anunrealcanvaschangingconstantlyinfrontofus.Itmakesmefeellikealittlegirlagain,andinsteadofimaginingacastleinthesky,I’mlivinginit;trulytheonlythingwecanseeallaroundusisthisdramatic,paintedsky.
Thegatheredaudiencefallsintoaunifiedsilence,andmyownspellisbrokenonlywhenthesunishighandbrightandthemassofbodiesbeginstoshiftinpreparationtoleave.Idon’twanttoleave.Iwanttositrighthere,leaningagainstEthan,foreternity.
“Excuseme,”Ethansaystoawomaninapassinggroup.“Wouldyoumindtakingaphotoofmeandmygirlfriend?”
Okay.maybeit’stimetorunbacktothehotelroom.chapterfourteen
“SomeoneexplainthephysicstomeofmysuitcaseweighingapproximatelyfiftypoundsmorewhenIleavethanitdidwhenIarrived,”Isay.“AllI’veaddedtoitareacoupleofT-shirtsandafewsmallpiecesofsouvenirjewelry.”
Ethancomesovertothesideofthebed,pressingalargehanddownonmybagandhelpingmezipitclosed,witheffort.“Ithinkit’stheweightofyourquestionabledecisiontobuyDaneanIGotLei’dinMauiT-shirt.”
“Youdon’tthinkhe’llappreciatemydarkhumor?”Iask.“Imean,mydilemmareallyiswhetherIgiveittohimbeforeorafterwetellhimwe’resleepingtogether.”
Shrugging,hepullsthesuitcaseoffthebedandlooksoveratme.“He’lleitherlaughorgiveyouthepoutysilenttreatment.”
“Frankly,Icoulddealwitheitherofthoseoptions.”
I’mshovingthingsintomycarry-on,soittakesmeafewsecondstorealizethatEthanhasn’timmediatelyshotsomethingbackatme.
“I’mkidding,Ethan.”
“Areyou?”
I’vebeenabletopushthisoutofmythoughtsforthemajorityofthistrip,butrealityispokingatourblissfulvacationbubblemuchsoonerthanI’dlike.“IsDanegoingtobecomeathingbetweenus?”
Ethansitsontheedgeofthemattressandpullsmebetweenhisknees.“Isaiditbefore.It’sclearyoudon’treallylikehim,andhe’smybrother.”
“Ethan,he’sfine.”
“Fine.He’salsoyourbrother-in-law.”
Istepback,frustrated.“Mybrother-in-lawwhowasessentiallycheatingonmysisterfortwoyears.”
Ethancloseshiseyes,sighing.“Thereisnoway—”
“IfhewasseeingTrinitywiththeMangoButttwoyearsago,thenhewasdefinitelycheatingonAmi.”
Hetakesadeepbreathandreleasesitslowly.“Youcan’tjustgoinlikeabullinachinashopandthrowallthisatAmiassoonaswegethome.”
“Havesomefaithinmyabilitytobesubtle,”Isay,andwhenhefightsasmile,Iadd,“Ididnotchoosethatbridesmaiddress,fortherecord.”
“Butyoudidchoosetheredbikini.”
“Areyoucomplaining?”Iask,grinning.
“Notatall.”Hissmilefades.“Look,IknowyouandAmiandyourentirefamilyarecloseinawaythatDaneandIaren’t—sure,wetraveltogether,butwedon’treallytalkaboutthiskindofstuff.Idon’tknowifit’sourplacetogetintothis.Wedon’tevenknowifit’strue.”
“Butforargument’ssake,howwouldyoufeelifitwas,andhewaslyingtoAmiforyears?”
Ethanstands,andIhavetotiltmyheadtolookupathim.Myfirstinstinctistothinkhe’sannoyedwithme,butheisn’t,Iguess:hetakesmyfaceinhishandsandbendstokissme.“I’dbedisappointed,ofcourse.Ijusthaveareallyhardtimethinkinghe’ddothat.”
Asusual,myfusefortheDaneconversationhasreacheditsfieryend.Thingsarealreadybittersweettoday—Idon’twanttoleavethehotel,butI’mexcitedtoseewherethingsgobetweenusbackhome—andbringinginthestressofAmiandDaneisn’tgoingtomakeanythingeasier.
Ihookafingerunderthewaistbandofhisshorts,feelingthewarmskinofhisnavel,tugginghimevenclosertome.Withasmileofunderstanding,hismouthcomesbackovermine,urgentnow,likewe’vebothjustbecomehyperawareofthebrutalendtothisfairytale.Thewayhe’stouchingmewithsuchfamiliaritygivesmeasstrongarushasthesensationofhiskiss.Ilovehowsmoothandfullhislipsfeel.Ilovehowhespreadshishandswhenhe’stouchingme,likehe’stryingtofeelasmuchofmyskinashecan.Wearealreadydressedandreadytogo,butIdon’tprotestforasinglesecondwhenheroughlypullsmyshirtovermyheadandreachesbacktounhookmybra.
Wefallbackontothemattress;he’scarefultonotlanddirectlyontopofme,butI’vealreadygrownsemi-addictedtothesensationofhisweight,totheheatandsolidityandsheersizeofhim.Theclotheswe’replanningtowearontheplanelandinapilebesidethebedandhecomesoverme,hoveringonstraightarmsproppednearmyshoulders.Ethan’sgazeroamsacrosseveryinchofmyface.
“Hey,you,”Isay.
Hegrins.“Hey.”
“Lookatthis.Somehowweendedupnakedagain.”
Atannedshoulderliftsanddrops.“Icanseethisbeingaregularproblem.”
“Problem,perfection.Tomato,tomahto.”
Hisflashofalaughinggrinfadesquickly,andthewayhiseyessearchmyfacelookslikehe’sgoingtosaysomethingmore.Iwonderifhecanreadmythoughts,howI’msilentlybegginghimtonotbringupDaneoreverythingthatcouldscrewthisupbackhome,andthankfullyhedoesn’t.Hejustcarefullylowersoverme,groaningquietlywhenmylegscomeupalonghissides.
HeknowswhatIlikealready,Ithink,skirtingmyhandsdownhisbackashestartstomove.He’sbeenpayingattentionthisentiretime,hasn’the?IwishIcouldgobackintimeandseehimthroughtheseneweyes.
???
THRIFTYJETSEEMEDHORRIFYINGLYLOW-BUDGETonthewayhere,butontheflighthome,thetightquartersareaconvenientexcusetowrapmyarmaroundEthan’sandspendseveralhourshuffingthelingeringsmelloftheoceanonhisskin.Evenheseemscalmeronthisflight:afterbeingtenseandmonosyllabicattakeoff,oncewe’reintheair,hewrapsabighandaroundmythighandfallsasleeprestinghischeekagainstthecrownofmyhead.
If,twoweeksago,someonehadshownmeaphotographofusrightnow,IthinkImighthavediedofshock.
WouldIhavebelievedthelookonmyface—thegiddy,sex-satedgrinIcan’tseemtowipeclean?WouldIhavetrustedthecalm,adoringwayhewatchesme?Ihaven’tfeltlikethisbefore—thistypeofintense,free-fallinghappinessthatdoesn’tcarrywithitanyuneaseoruncertaintyaboutmeandEthanandwhatwe’refeeling.I’veneveradoredsomeonewithsuchheatedabandon,andsomethingtellsmehehasn’t,either.
Myuncertaintyisallaboutwhatwaitsforusathome—specifically,whatsortofriftanydramabetweenDaneandAmiwillcausebetweenusall.
SothenIhavetoaskmyself:Isitworthsayinganythingtomysister?ShouldIletbygonesbebygones?ShouldItakeanovelapproachandnotleaptotheworstconclusionbuthavealittlefaithinstead?Imean,maybesheknowsallthisalready,anyway,andthey’veworkedthroughit.MaybefindingoutthatIknowDanewasn’tmonogamousearlyonwouldonlyembarrassherandmakeherconstantlyself-consciousordefensivewhenI’maroundthemboth
IlookupatEthan,who’sstillasleep,andithitsmethatjustbecauseIthinkIknowwhat’sgoingon,itdoesn’tmeanIreallydo.Thisguyrighthereistheperfectexample.IthoughtIknewexactlywhohewas,andIwascompletelywrong.IsitpossibletherearesidestomytwinIdon’tknowatall,too?Igentlyshakehimawake,andheinhales,stretching,beforelookingdownatme.It’slikeapunchtothechesthowmuchIlikehisface.
“Hey,”hesays,voicegravelly.“What’sup?Youokay?”
“Ilikeyourface,”Itellhim.
“I’mgladyouwantedtotellmethatthisverymoment.”
“And,”Isay,smilingnervously,“Iknowwedon’tlikethistopic,butIwantedtoletyouknowthatI’vedecidedtonotsayanythingtoAmiaboutDane.I’mnotevengoingtoaskherwhethersheknew.”
Ethan’sfacerelaxes,andheleansforward,kissingmyforehead.“Okay,cool.”
“Thingsaregoingsogreatforallofusrightnow—”
“Imean,yes,”hecutsinwithalaugh,“exceptfortheciguateratoxinthatcausedthemtomisstheirhoneymoon.”
“Exceptforthat.”Iwaveafaux-casualhand.“Anyway,thingsaregoingwell,andIshouldjustletthepastbeinthepast.”
“Totally.”Hekissesmeonceandleansback,smilingwithhiseyesclosed.
“Ijustwantedtoletyouknow.”
“I’mgladyoudid.”
“Okay,gobacktosleep.”
“Iwill.”
???
THEPLAN:ONCEWELAND,we’llgrabourbags,shareacabbacktoMinneapolis,andeachspendthenightatourrespectivehome.We’vealreadyagreedthecabwilldropmeoffatmyapartmentbuildinginDinkytown—sohecanseemegetinsafely—beforetakinghimtoLoringPark.I’msureitwillbeweirdtosleepalone,butweagreedtomeetupforbreakfast,atwhichpointIampositivethatIwillmaulhiminsteadofdoingwhatwe’dplannedtodo:figureouthowandwhentotellAmiandDaneaboutus.
Everythingaboutthisendofthetripstandsoutforhowstarklydifferentitisfromthebeginning.Wearen’tuncomfortable.We’reholdinghands,walkingthroughtheairportterminal,bickeringlightlyaboutwhichoneofusisgoingtogiveinfirstandshowupattheother’sdoorstep.
Hebendsattheluggagecarousel,plantingakissonmymouth.“Youcouldjustcomeovernowandsaveyourselfthetriplater.”
“Oryoucould.”
“Butmybedisreallygreat,”heargues.“It’sbig,firmbutnothard..”
Iimmediatelyseewhereallourfutureproblemslie:wearebothstubbornhomebodies.“Yeah,butIwanttogetinmyownbathtubanduseeverysinglebathproductIownandhavemissedforthesepasttendays.”
Ethankissesmeagainandpullsbacktosaymore,buthiseyesflitterovermyshoulderandhisentiredemeanorchanges.“Holyshit.”
Thewordssoundechoey,fromadistance,multiplied.Iturntoseewhathe’sgapingatandmystomachabsolutelyplummets:AmiandDanearestandingonlyafewyardsaway,holdingaWELCOMEHOMEFROMOURHONEYMOON!sign.NowIunderstandwhatI’veheard;AmiandEthanspokethesamewords,atthesametime.
Thereisariotinmybrain:justmyluck.I’mtemporarilyunabletodecidewhattoprocessfirst:thefactthatmysisterishere,thatshesawmekissingEthan,thatDanesawmekissingEthan,ortherealitythat—evenelevendaysaftertheywereknockeddownbyatoxin—theybothstilllookpositivelyhorrible.IthinkAmihaslostovertenpounds,andDanehaslikelylostmore.ThegraysheentoAmi’scomplexionhasn’tentirelygoneaway,andherclothessagonherframe.
Andhereweare,tanned,rested,andmakingoutinbaggageclaim.
“WhatamIseeing?”Amisays,droppingherhalfofthesigninshock.
I’msureI’llexaminemyreactionlater,butgiventhatIcan’ttellwhethershe’sexcitedorangryrightnow,IletgoofEthan’shandandtakeastepawayfromhim.Iwonderhowitlookstoher:Ileftforherhoneymoon,paidalmostnothing,sufferednotatall,andcamehomekissingthemanIwassupposedtohate—andneveroncementionedanyofthistoheronthephoneorintexts.“Nothing,wewerejustsayinggoodbye.”
“Wereyoukissing?”sheasks,browneyessaucer-wide.
Ethantossesoutaconfident“Yes”justasIstateanemphatic“No.”
Helooksdownatme,smirkingathoweasilythatliecameoutofme.Icantellheismoreproudofmysmoothnessthanheisannoyedbymyanswer.
“Okay,yes,”Iamend.“Wewerekissing.Butwedidn’tknowyouweregoingtobehere.Weweregoingtotellyouguystomorrow.”
“Telluswhat,exactly?”Amiasks.
Ethantakesthisonereadilyandslideshisarmaroundmyshoulder,pullingmeclose.“Thatwe’retogether.”
Forthefirsttime,IgetagoodlookatDane.He’sstaringdirectlyatEthan,hiseyesnarrowedlikehe’stryingtobeamwordsintohisbrother’scranium.Itrytotampdownmyreaction,knowingit’sprobablyjustmyownreadonthesituation,buthisglarelooksalotlikeWhatdidyoutellher?
“It’scool,”Ethansayscalmly,andmyresolutiontomindmyownbeeswaxreturns,heightenedbythepotentmixofadrenalineinmyblood.
“Everythingisverycool,”Isay,tooloudly,andgiveDaneadramatic,andprobablyill-advised,wink.“Supercool.”
Iamamaniac.
Heburstsoutlaughingandfinallybreakstheice,steppingforwardtohugmefirst,andthenhisbrother.Amicontinuestostareatmeinshock,andthenslowlyshufflesover.Shefeelslikeaskeletoninmyarms.
“Dude,areyoutworeallyathingnow?”Daneaskshisbrother.
“Weare,”Ethantellshim.
“IthinkIcanapproveitatthispoint,”Danesays,smilingandnoddingateachofuslikeabenevolentboss.
“Um,”Isay,“that’s.good?”
Amistillhasnotrelaxedherexpressiononebit.“Howdidthisevenhappen?”
Ishrug,wincing.“IhatedhimuntilIdidn’t?”
“That’sactuallyaveryaccuratesynopsis.”Ethanslidesanarmaroundmyshouldersagain.
Mysistershakesherheadslowly,gapingatthetwoofusinturn.“Idon’tknowwhethertobehappyorhorrified.Isthistheapocalypse?Isthatwhat’shappening?”
“Wecouldtotallytradetwinssometime,”DanesaystoEthan,andtheneruptsintoafrattylaugh.
Mysmiledroops.“Thatwould..”Ishakemyheademphatically.“Nothankyou.”
“OhmyGod,shutup,honey,”Amisays,laughingandhittinghisshoulder.“Youaresogross.”
Everyonelaughsexceptme,andIrealizeittoolate,somyha-ha-hacomesoutlikeapull-stringtoy.
ButIthinkthat’smyproblemwithDane,inanutshell:he’sgross.Andunfortunately,mysisterloveshim,I’vebeenhookingupwithhisbrother,andnotfiveminutesagoIgaveDanetheall-clearwink.Imademydecision;I’mprettysureI’mgoingtohavetoputonmybig-girlpantsanddeal.chapterfifteen
IwantedtostayinMaui.IwantedtostayinbedwithEthanforweeks,andlistentotheoceanwhileIfellasleep.Butevenso,themomentI’mbackinmyapartment,IwanttokisseverypieceofmyfurnitureandtoucheverysinglethingI’vemissedforthepasttendays.Mycouchhasneverlookedsoinviting.Mytelevisioniswaybetterthantheonewehadinthesuite.Mybedisfluffyandclean,andIcan’twaituntilit’sdarkenoughtojustifytakingarunningleapintomypillows.Iamahomebody,throughandthrough,andthere’snothinglikebeinghome.
Thisfeelinglastsaboutthirtyminutes.BecauseafterI’veunpacked,Icheckmyfridgeandrealizethere’snothinginthere,soifIwanttoeat,Ihavetoeitherordercrappydeliveryfood,orputmypantsbackonandleavethehouse.
Isprawlinthemiddleofthelivingroomonmyfluffyfaux-furrugandgroanattheceiling.IfI’dgonetoEthan’s,Icouldhavemadehimgogetmefood.
Thedoorbellrings.Iignoreitbecausemyfamilywouldjustwaltzrightinliketheyowntheplace,andninetimesoutoftenit’smyupstairsneighborJack,afiftysomethingguywhopayswaytoocloseattentiontomycomingsandgoings.Butthenitringsagain,whichafewsecondslaterisfollowedbyaknock.Jackneverringstwice,andheneverknocks.
Standing,Ipeekthroughthepeepholeandseeachiseledjaw,along,muscularneck.I’vemissedthatneck.Ethan!Myheartreactsbeforemybraindoes—leapinghappilyintomythroat—andsowhenIpullthedooropenwithagrin,ittakesabeattorememberthatI’mnotwearingpants.
EthansmilesatmeandthenhiseyesdroptomylowerhalfandhemakesthesameseductiveexpressionIknowI’mdirectingatthebagoffoodhe’scarrying.
“Youmissedme,”Isay,takingtheChinesetakeoutfromhishand.
“You’repantsless.”
Ismirkathimovermyshoulder.“Youshouldprobablygetusedtoit.Imostlybehavedmyselfatthehotel,butninety-ninepercentofthetimeI’mhomeI’minmyunderwear.”
HeraisesabrowandtiltshisheadtowardthehallwayI’msurehe’sguessedleadstomybedroom.Igetit—inamoviewewouldbecrashingagainstthewall,passionatelypinballingourwaydownthehalltowardthebedbecausewemissedeachothersomuchafteranhourapart,butintruth,thatairportrun-inwasstressfulashell,Iamstarving,andthistakeoutsmellsamazing.
“Garlicchickenfirst,sexsecond.”
Igetallflutteryinside—andIamnotnormallyaswooner—whenhesmilesatthewayI’mdivingintothefoodhebrought.Hekissesmyforeheadandthenturns,easilyfindingmysilverwaredrawerandgrabbingusbothsomechopsticks.Westandinthekitchen,eatingchickenoutofthecontainers.SomethinginsidemeuncoilsbecauseIwashappytobehome,butnowI’mgiddyIfeelmoremyselfwithhimthanwithout,andthathappenedsofast,it’sdizzying
“Myfridgewasempty,”hetellsme“Figuredyourswas,too,anditwasonlyamatteroftimebeforeyoucametomydoorbecauseyouweresolonely.”
Ishoveamouthfulofnoodlesinmymouthandspeakaroundthem:“Yeah,thatsoundslikeme.”
“Soneedy,”heagrees,laughing.
IwatchhimtuckintotheMongolianbeefandgivemyselfafewquietsecondstostareatthefaceI’vemissedforthepasthour.“Ilikethatyoujustshowedup,”Itellhim.
“Good.”Hechewsandswallows.“Iwasprettysureyouwould,buttherewasatwentypercentchanceyou’dbelike,‘Getthehelloutofmyapartment,Ineedtodoafancybathtonight.’”
“Oh,Idefinitelywantafancybath.”
“Butafterthefoodandsex.”
Inod.“Right.”
“I’llsnooparoundyourapartmentwhileyou’redoingthat.I’mnotabathguy.”
Thismakesmelaugh.“Doyouthinkthisfeelssoeasybecausewehatedeachotherfirst?”Iask.
Heshrugs,diggingintothecontainerforagiantpieceofbeef.
“We’reaweekin,”Isay,“andI’mpantslessandeatinggreasyfoodinfrontofyou.”
“Imean,Isawyouinthatbridesmaiddress.Everythingelseisanimprovement.”
“Itakeitback,”Itellhim.“Istillhateyou.”
Ethancomesover,bendsandkissesmynose.“Sure.”
Themoodshifts.SomanytimesI’vegonefromuneasytoangrywithhim,butnowit’sfromhappytoheated.Heslidesthefoodontothecounterbehindme,cuppingmyface.
Whenhe’sonlyaninchaway,Iwhisper,“IjustrealizedyouandIsharedacontaineroffoodanditdidn’tgrossyouout.”
Hekissesmeandthenrollshiseyes,movinghismouthtomycheek,myjaw,myneck.“Itoldyou,Idon’tmindsharing.It’s”—kiss—“about”—kiss—“buffets.And.I.Was.Right.”
“Well,I’mforevergratefulthatyou’resuchaweirdo.”
Ethannods,kissingmyjaw.“ThatwasthebesthoneymoonI’veeverbeenon.”
Ipullhismouthbacktomineandthenhopuponhim,relievedthatheanticipateshe’llneedtocatchme,andliftmychintowardthebedroom.“Thatway.”
???
ONCEETHANANDIDISCOVERthatweliveonlytwomilesapart,you’dthinkwe’dfindawaytoalternatebetweenapartmentsatnight.You’dbewrong.ClearlyIamterribleatcompromise,becausefromWednesdaynightwhenwereturnhome,toMondaymorningwhenIbeginmynewjob,Ethanspendseverynightatmyplace.
Hedoesn’tleavethingshere(exceptatoothbrush),buthedoeslearnthatIhavetohitmyalarmfourtimesbeforegettingoutofbedtogotothegym,thatIdon’tusemyfavoritespoonforanythingasmenialasstirringcoffee,thatmyfamilycanandwillshowupatthemostinopportunemoment,andthatIrequirehimtoturnonthetelevisionorplaysomemusiceverytimeIusetherestroom.
BecauseIamalady,obviously.
Butwiththisfamiliaritycomestheawarenessofhowfasteverythingismoving.Bythetimewe’reclosinginontwoweekstogether—whichinthegrandschemeoflifeisnothing—itfeelstomelikeEthanhasbeenmyboyfriendsincethemomentImethimattheStateFairyearsago.
Thingsareeasy,andfun,andeffortless.Thisisn’thownewrelationshipsaresupposedtobe:theyaresupposedtobestressful,andexhausting,anduncertain.
ThemorningbeforeIgotoworkatHamiltonBiosciencesforthefirsttimeisnotthetimetobehavinganexistentialcrisisaboutmovingtoofastwithmynewboyfriend,butmybraindidn’tgetthememo.
Inanewsuit,cute-but-comfortableheels,andwithmyhairblow-driedtoasilkysheetdownmyback,IlookoveratEthanatmysmalldiningroomtable.“Youhaven’tsaidanythingabouthowIlookthismorning.”
“Isaiditwithmyeyeswhenyousteppedoutofthebedroom,youjustweren’tlooking.”Hetakesabiteoftoastandspeaksaroundit.“Youlookbeautiful,andprofessional,andintelligent.”Pausing,toswallow,headds,“ButIalsoliketheisland-scrappyversionofyou.”
Iscrapesomebutteracrossmytoast,thensettheknifedownwithaclatter.“Doyouthinkwe’removingtoofast?”
Ethansipshiscoffee,blueeyesnowfocusedonthescrollingnewsonhisphone.He’snotevenfazedbythisquestion.“Probably.”
“Doesthatworryyou?”
“No.”
“Notevenalittle?”
Helooksbackupatme.“Doyouwantmetostayatmyplacetonight?”
“Godno,”Isay,inacompleteknee-jerkresponse.Hesmiles,smug,andlooksbackdown.“Butmaybe?”Isay.“Shouldyou?”
“Idon’tthinktherearerulestothis.”
Igulpmyscaldingcoffeeandthenroarinpain.“Ow!”Istareathim,placidasever,backtobeingnose-deepintheWashingtonPostmobileapp.“Whyareyounotfreakingoutalittle?”
“BecauseI’mnotstartinganewjobtodayandlookingforreasonstoexplainmystressaboutit.”Heputshisphonedownandfoldshisarmsonthetable.“You’regoingtobegreat,youknow.”
Igrunt,unconvinced.EthanismoreintuitivethanIevergavehimcreditfor.
“MaybeweshouldgettogetherwithAmiandDanefordrinkslater,”hesuggests.“Youknow,toprocessyourfirstday,tomakesureeveryoneisokaywiththiscurrentsituation.IfeellikeI’vebeenhoggingyou.”
“Stopthat.”
“Stopwhat?”
“Beingsoemotionallybalanced!”
Hepausesandaslowgrintakesoverhisface.“Okay?”
Igrabmycoatandpurseandmakeforthedoor,fightingagrinbecauseIknowhe’slaughingatmebehindmybackAndI’mtotallyokaywithit.
???
IAMREMINDEDHOWSMALLHamiltonBiosciencesactuallyiswhenIstepintothelobby,whereawomannamedPamhasbeenworkingthedeskforthirty-threeyears.Kasey,theHRrepresentativeIinterviewedwithacoupleofmonthsago,greetsmeandbeckonsmetofollow.Ifweturnedleft,we’dendupintheofficesuiteofthelegalteamofthreeButwetakearightdownthehallthatleadsustothemirror-imagesuitethathousestheHRdepartmentoftwo.
“Researchisjustacrossthecourtyard,”Kaseysays,“butallofthemedicalaffairsfolks—ifyouremember!—areupstairsinthisbuilding.”
“That’sright!”Iadoptherupbeattone,followingherintoheroffice.
“We’lljusthaveafewformstogetyourolling,andthenyoucanheadupstairstomeetwiththerestofyourteam.”
Myhearttakesoffatagallopastherealityofthissetsin.I’vebeeninablissed-outla-lalandforthepastcoupleofweeks,butreallifeisback,frontandcenter.Fornow,I’llonlyhaveonedirectreportworkingunderme,butfromwhatKaseyandMr.HamiltontoldmewhenIwasherelast,thereshouldbelotsofopportunitiesforgrowth.
“You’llhavesomemanagertraining,”Kaseyissaying,roundingherdesk,“whichIbelieveisthisThursday.Givesyoualittletimetogetin,getsettled.”
“Great.”
Ismoothmyhandsdownmyskirtandtrytoswallowdownmynerveswhilesheopensupsomefilesonhercomputer,whileshebendsandretrievesafolderfromacabinetnearherknee,whilesheopensitandpullsoutsomeforms.IseemynameatthetopofallofthemAnxietyslowlygiveswaytothrill.
Ihaveajob!Ajobthatissolid,andsecure,and—let’sbehonest—willprobablybeboringsometimesbutwillpaythebills.It’swhatIwenttoschoolfor.It’sperfect.
Elationfillsmychest,makingmefeelbuoyant.
Kaseyorganizesastackofpaperworkforme,andIbeginsigning.It’stheusual:Iwon’tsellcompanysecrets,won’tcommitvariousformsofharassment,won’tusealcoholordrugsonthepremises,won’tlie,cheat,orsteal.
I’mdeepintothestackwhenMr.Hamiltonhimselfpeekshisheadintoheroffice.“IseeourOliveisbackonthecontinent!”
“Hey,Mr.Hamilton.”
Hewinks,andasks,“How’sEthandoing?”
IglancequicklytoKaseyandback.“Um,he’sgreat.”
“Olivejustgotmarried!”hesays.“WeranintoeachotheronherhoneymooninMaui.”
Kaseygasps.“Oh,myGod!Ithoughtyouwerewithasickrelative!IamsogladImisunderstood!”Mystomachseemstomeltaway;IhadcompletelyforgottenabouttellingKaseythisstupidlieintheairport.Shedoesn’tseemtonoticeanythingoffandbarrelson:“Weshouldhaveaparty!”
“Oh,no,”Isay,“pleasedon’t.”Insertawkwardlaugh.“Weareallpartiedout.”
“Butforsureheshouldjointhespousesclub!”shesays,alreadynoddingvigorouslyatMr.Hamilton.
IknowMrs.Hamiltonfoundedtheclub,butmyGod,Kasey,takeitdownanotchortwo.
Mr.Hamiltonwinksatme.“IknowMollyputonthehardsell,butitisafungroup.”
Thisisgoingtoofaralready.I’msobadatlyingthatI’veforgottenliesI’vealreadytold.EthanandIaren’tgoingtobeabletokeepthisupforverylongatsuchaclose-knitcompany.Ihaveasinkingfeelinginside,butfeelatinytwingeofreliefknowingthatI’mgoingtoputthislietorestatlast.
“I’msurethespousesclubisamazing.”Ipause,andIknowIcouldleaveitatthat,butI’vejustsignedalltheseformsandreallywanttomakeafreshstarthere.“EthanandIaren’tactuallymarried.It’ssortofafunnystory,Mr.Hamilton,andIhopeit’sokayifIcomebylaterandtellyouaboutit.”
I’dwantedtokeepitsimple,butIcantellIshouldhavebuiltupmyversionalittlebit.Thisjustsounds.bad.
HeprocessesthisforabeatbeforeglancingatKasey,thenbacktomeandsayingquietly,“Well,regardless.welcometoHamilton,”beforeduckingout.
Iwanttodropmyheadtothedeskandthenbangitafew(dozen)times.Iwanttoletoutalongstringofcursewords.Iwanttogetupandfollowhimdownthehall.Surelyhe’llunderstandthesituationonceIlayitoutforhim?
IlookbackatKasey,whoisregardingmewithamixtureofsympathyandconfusion.Ithinkshe’sstartingtorealizethatshedidn’treallymisunderstandwhatI’dsaidaboutasickrelative.
Notexactlythebestwaytostartdayoneatanewjob.
???
TWOHOURSLATER,AFTERIsignalltheforms,afterImeetthegroupthatwillbemymedicalaffairsteam(andgenuinelylikingallofthem),Mr.Hamilton’sassistant,Joyce,callsmedowntohisoffice.
“Justawelcome,Iassume!”mynewmanager,Tom,sayscheerfully.
ButIthinkIknowbetter.
Mr.Hamiltonletsoutalow“Comeonin”afterIknock,andhisexpectantsmileflattensmarginallywhenheseesme.“Olive.”
“Hi,”Isay,andmyvoiceshakes.
Hedoesn’tsayanythingrightaway,confirmingmyassumptionthatthismeetingisachanceformetoexplainmyself.“Look,Mr.Hamilton”—Idon’tdarecallhimCharliehere—“aboutMaui.”
Putonyourbiggirlpantsandownit,Olive.
Mr.Hamiltonputshispendown,takesoffhisglasses,andleansbackinhischairRightnow,helookssodifferentfromthemanIsatacrossfromatdinner,whohowledwithlaughtereverytimeEthanteasedme.I’msurehe’sthinkingaboutthatmeal,too,andhowmuchMollylovedEthan,howsheinvitedhimintoherspousesgroup,howtheyweresogenuinelyhappyforus,whilewesatthereandliedtotheirfaces.
Igesturetothechair,silentlyaskingifImaysit,andhewavesmeforward,slidingthearmofhisglassesbetweenhisteeth.
“Mytwinsister,Ami,wasmarriedtwoweeksago,”Itellhim.“ShemarriedEthan’sbrother,Dane.Theyhostedaseafoodbuffet,andtheentireweddingparty—exceptformeandEthan—fellillwithfoodpoisoning.Ciguateratoxin,”Iadd,becausehe’sascientistandmaybeheknowsthesethings.
Heseemsto,becausehisbushyeyebrowslift,andheletsoutaquiet“Ah.”
“Mysister,Ami.shewinseverything.Raffles,sweepstakes,”Isay,smilingwryly,“evencoloringcontests.”
Atthis,Mr.Hamilton’smustachetwitchesunderagrin.
“Shewonthehoneymoon,too,buttheruleswerereallystrict.Itwasnontransferable,nonrefundable.Thedatesweresethardandfast.”
“Isee.”
“So,EthanandIwentintheirplace.”Igivehimawobblysmile.“Beforethattrip,wehatedeachotherOr,IhatedhimbecauseIthoughthehatedme.”Iwavethisoff.“Anyway,Iamterribleatlyingandreallyhatedoingit.IkeptalmostexplainingittoeveryoneIsaw.AndwhenthemassagetherapistcalledmeMrs.Thomas,andyouaskedifI’dgottenmarried,IpanickedbecauseIdidn’twanttoadmitthatIwasn’tAmi.”Ifidgetwithamagneticpaperclipholderonhisdesk,unabletolookathim.“ButIdidn’twanttolietoyou,either.So,eitherIlieandtellyouI’mcommittingfraudtostealavacation,orIlieandtellyouI’mmarried.”
“Pretendingtobeyoursistertogetavacationdoesn’tsoundlikesuchahorriblelie,Olive.”
“Inhindsight—andImean,immediatehindsight—Iknewthat,too.Idon’tthinkthemassagetherapistwouldhavereportedmeoranything,butIreallydidn’twanttobesenthome.Ipanicked.”Ifinallylookupathim,feelingtheapologyallthewaytomybreastbone.“I’mreallysorryforlyingtoyou.Iadmireyouimmensely,admirethefoundationofthiscompanyandhavebeenfeelingsickoveritforthepastcoupleweeks.”Pausing,Isay,“Forwhatit’sworth—andattheriskofbeingunprofessional—IthinkthatdinnerwithyouwasthereasonIfellforEthanonthattrip.”
Mr.Hamiltonsitsforwardtoresthiselbowsonhisdesk.“Well,IguessI’mreassuredthatitmadeyouuncomfortabletolie,”hesays.“AndIappreciateyourbraveryintellingme.”
“Ofcourse.”
Henods,andsmiles,andIexhaleforthefirsttimeallday,itseems.Thishasbeenweighingonme,makingmystomachfeelwavyforhours.
“Thetruthis,”hesays,andslideshisglassesbackon,lookingatmeovertherims,“weenjoyedthatdinner.Mollyreallylovedyourcompany,adoredEthan.”
Ismile.“Wehadagreat—”
“Butyousatacrossthetableforanentiremealandliedtome.”
Dreadturnsthesurfaceofmyskincold.“Iknow.I—”
“Idon’tthinkyou’reabadperson,Olive,andhonestly—underanyothercircumstance,IthinkI’dreallylikeyou.”Heinhalesslowly,shakinghishead.“Butthisisaweirdsituationforme.Tothinkweweretogetherforhoursandyouwerefoolingus.That’sweird.”
AndIhavenoideawhattosay.Mystomachfeelslikeaconcreteblocknow,sinkinginsideme.
Heslidesafolderclosertohimandopensit.MyHRfolder.“Yousignedamoralityclauseintheemploymentcontract,”hesays,lookingdownatthepapersbeforeturninghisfacebackuptome.“AndI’mtrulysorry,Olive,butgiventheoddnessofthissituationandmyoveralldiscomfortwithdishonesty,I’mgoingtohavetoletyougo.”
???
IDROPMYHEADONTOthebartableandgroan.“Isthisreallyhappening?”
Ethanrubsmybackandwiselystaysquiet.Thereisliterallynothingthatcanturnthisdayaround,noteventhebestcocktailsintheTwinCitiesorthebestpeptalkfromanewboyfriend.
“Ishouldgohome,”Isay.“Withmyluck,thebarwillcatchfireandfallintoablackhole.”
“Stop.”Hepushesthebasketofpeanutsandmymartinicloserandsmiles.“Stay.It’llmakeyoufeelbettertoseeAmi.”
He’sright.AfterIleftHamiltonwithmytailbetweenmylegs,halfofmewantedtogohomeandburrowinmybedforaweek,andhalfofmewantedtopullEthanononesideandAmiontheotherandhavethemholdmeupfortherestofthenight.
AndnowthatI’mhere,Iactuallyneedtoseemysister’sindignantrageovermygettingfiredonmyfirstday—evenifitisn’tentirelyfair,andalargepartofmedoesn’tblameMr.Hamiltonatall.Butitwillmakemefeelamilliontimesbetter.
Straighteningbesideme,EthanlookstowardthedoorandIfollowhisattention.Danehasjustarrived,butthere’snoAmiwithhim,whichisweirdsincetheyusuallycommutetogether.
“What’sup,partypeople?”heboomsacrosstheroom.Afewheadsturn,whichisjusthowDanelikesit.
Ugh.Ipushdownthesnarkyvoiceinmyhead
Ethanstandstogreethimwithabrohug,andIgiveDanealimpwave.Heflopsdownontoabarstool,shoutsforanIPA,andthenturnstous,grinning.“Man,youguysaresotan.I’mtryingnottohateyou.”
Ethanlooksdownathisarmslikethey’renew.“Huh,yeah,Iguess.”
“Well,ifitmakesyoufeelanybetter,”Isay,andthenaffectastuffyBritishaccent,“I’vebeensacked.”I’mtrying—andfailing—tobringsomelevitytomymood,butDanemisinterpretsmymeaningandgoesinforanimmediatehigh-five.
“Yeahyouhave!”Daneshouts,handoutstretched.
Idon’twanttoleavethepoormanhanging,soItapafingertothemiddleofhispalmandshakemyhead.“Like,fired,”Iclarify,andEthanfollowsitupwithaquiet“Notsexy.”
Dane’smouthpinchesintoaweirdlittlebuttholeandheletsoutasympathetic“Oooh,thatsucks.”
He’snotevendoinganythingdoucheyrightnow,butIswearhisperfectlymanicuredbeardandhisfakeglassesthathedoesn’tevenneedandhistrendypinkdressshirtjustmakemewanttotossmymartiniinhisface.
Butthatreactionisjustso.Olive,isn’tit?I’mbackintownforonlyafewdaysandI’malreadyinAMood?Lord.
“I’msogrumpy,”Isayoutloud,andDanelaughslikeIknow,right?butEthanleansin.
“Tobefair,youdidjustloseyourjob,”hesaysquietly,andIsmilegrimlyathim.“Ofcourseyou’regrumpy.”
Danestaresatus.“It’sgonnabehardtogetusedtoseeingyouguystogether.”
“Ibet,”Isaywithsemi-intentionalmeaning,andmeethiseyes.
“I’msureyouhadalottotalkaboutontheisland.”Hewinksatme,andthenaddsbreezily,“Havinghatedeachother’sgutsbeforehand.”
IwonderifEthanishavingthesamethoughtIam—thatthisisasuper-weirdthingtosay,butexactlythethingthatsomeonewhoisafraidofbeingbustedwouldsay.
“Wedid,”Ethansays,“butit’sallgood.”
“Youdidn’thavetotellEthanthatI’mangryallthetime,”Isay,unabletohelpmyself.
Danewavesthisoff.“Eh,withyou,it’sasafebet.Youhateeveryone.”
Thistiltsinsideme,ringinguntrueForthelifeofme,Ican’tthinkofasinglepersonIhaterightnow.Exceptmaybemyself,forlyingtoMr.Hamiltonandendingupinthisplace,whereI’mnotsureI’llbeabletopaymyrentinamonth.again.
Ethanputshishandovermine,asilentLetitgo.Andtruly,withDanerightnow—orever—arguinghardlyseemsworthit.
“Where’sAmi?”Iask,andDaneshrugs,peekingbackoverhisshoulderatthedoor.She’sfifteenminuteslate,andit’sdisorienting.Mysisteristhepromptone;Daneisthelateoneandhe’salreadyflaggingdownthebartenderforasecondbeer.
“So,wasthisthejobofferyougotintheairport?”Daneasksonceshe’sgone.
Inod.
“Wasit,like,yourdreamjob?”
“No,”Isay,“butIknewI’dbegoodatit.”Iliftthetoothpickandswirltheoliveinmymartiniglass.“Thebestpart?IwasfiredbecauseIsawmynewbossinMaui,andweliedtohimaboutbeingmarried.”
AlaughburstsoutofDane’smouthbeforehecancontainit.HeseemstorealizeI’mbeingsincere.“Wait.Seriously?”
“Yes,andthewife,Molly,reallylovedEthanandinvitedhimtothespousesclubandallofthatstuff.IthinkMr.HamiltonfeltuncomfortabletrustingmeknowingthatI’dcompletelyliedmyfaceoffforanentiremealwithhim,andIcan’tsayIblamehim.”
Danelookslikehehasmorelaughsinhimbutiswiselykeepingthemcontained.“Whydidn’tyoujusttellhimyouweretakingyoursister’svacation?”
“That,Dane,isthequestionofthehour.”
Heletsoutalong,lowwhistle.
“Wecantalkaboutanythingelse,bytheway,”Isay.“Please.”
Danedeftlychangesthetopictohimself,hisworkday,howmuchbetterhe’sfeeling.Howhe’sgonedownapantssize.Hehassomeprettyentertainingstoriesaboutexplosivediarrheainpublicrestrooms,butforthemostpartitjustfeelsliketheDaneShow.
ThemomentDanepausestotossafewpeanutsinhismouth,Ethanexcuseshimselftousethemen’sroom,andDanewavestothebartenderforathirdbeerOncesheleavesagain,heturnsbacktome.“It’swildhowmuchyouandAmilookalike,”hesays.
“Identical,theysay.”Ipickupastrawwrapperandrollitintoatightspiral,feelingoddlyuncomfortablesittingherewithjustDane.What’soddishowIusedtoseethefamilyresemblanceinEthanandDane,butinthismoment,theylooknothingalikeatall.IsitbecauseIknowEthanintimatelynow,orisitbecauseheisagoodhumanandhisbrotherseemsrottenfromtheinside?
It’sespeciallyuncomfortablebecausehe’sstilllookingatme.EventhoughI’mnotmeetinghiseyes,Icanfeelhisfocusonthesideofmyface.“IbetEthantoldyouallkindsofstories.”
Andoh.Mymindisimmediatelybuzzing.IshetalkingaboutwhatIthinkhe’stalkingabout?
“Abouthimself?”Ideflect.
“Aboutallofus,thewholefam.”
DaneandEthan’sparentsaretwoofthemostmilquetoastpeopleI’veevermetinmylife—theepitomeofMinnesotanice,butalsoexceedinglydull—soIthinkbothDaneandIknowthatEthanwouldn’tsharemanyadventuresaboutthewholefam.Isitmyeternalskepticalfilterherethat’smakingmethinkhe’stalkingaboutthebrothertripsbeingDane’sideasand,ofcourse,allofhispre-engagementgirlfriends?
Ilookathimoverthelipofmymartiniglass.Iamsoconflicted.ItoldEthan—andmyself—thatIwouldletthisonego.ThatAmiisasmartwomanandknowswhatshe’sgettinginto.ThatIamalwaysthebuzzkillpessimist
Danegetsonelastfreebie,andthat’sit.
“Weallhavestories,Dane,”Itellhimevenly.“YouandEthanhaveyours.AmiandIhaveours.Weallhavethem.”
Hepopsacoupleofpeanutsintohismouthandgrinsatmeashechews,mouthopen,likehe’sjustoutsmartedme.Asirritatingashe’sbeing,Icantellhe’sgenuinelyrelieved.Ifitwereanyoneelsesmilingatmelikethis,I’dfeelhonoredtobesoclearlywelcomedintotheinnercirclewithjustashiftinanexpression.ButwithDane,itmakesmefeelslimy,likeI’mnotsupportingmysisterbysupportingherhusband,likeI’mbetrayingher.
“Soyoulikemybigbrother,huh?”heasks.
Thehuskyquietofhisvoicemakesmeuneasy.“He’sallright,Iguess,”Ijoke.
“He’sprettygreat,”hesays,andthenadds,“evenifheisn’tme.”
“Imean,”Isay,forcingadorkygrin,“whois?AmIright?”
Danethanksthebartenderwhenshedeliversthefreshbeerandthentakesafoamysip,stillstudyingme.“Youeverwanttomixitup,youletmeknow.”
Myeyesflytohisface,andIfeelthewaythebloodleavesmycomplexioninawhoosh.ThereisnowayI’mmisinterpretinghismeaning.“I’msorry.What?”
“Justanightoffun,”hesays,breezily,likehehasn’tjustofferedtocheatonhiswifewithhertwinsister
Itapmychinwithafinger,feelingmyneckheat,myfaceflush.It’sastruggletokeepmyvoiceeven.“Youknow,IthinkI’lltakeanemphaticpassonsleepingwithmybrother-in-law.”
Heshrugslikeitmakesnodifferencetohim—andsilentlyconfirmingthathisvaguewordsmeantexactlywhatIthoughttheymeant—butthenhiseyesarecaughtonsomethingovermyshoulder.IassumeEthaniswalkingback,becauseDanesmiles,tiltinghischin.“Yeah,”hesaysasEthanapproaches,“Iguesshe’sallright.”
Igapeathowcasuallyhereturnstoourearlierconversation.
“Wereyoutwotalkingaboutme?”Ethanasks,loweringontothestoolbesidemeandpressinghissmiletomycheek.
“Wewere,”Danesays.Ilookathim.There’snotevenawarninginhisexpression,notevenanyfearthatI’llsaysomethingtoEthanaboutwhatjusthappened.Bytellinghimthatweallhavestories,byimplyingthatI’mnotgoingtopressintohispast,haveIindicatedthatI’mokaybeingeternallycomplicitsomehow?
Danepeeksdownathisphonewhenitvibratesonthebartopnexttohim.“Oh,Amiisrunningaboutanhourlate.”
Istand,abruptly,robotically.“Youknow,that’sokay.I’mnotthebestcompanytonight.Raincheck,guys?”
Danenodseasily,butEthanlooksconcerned,reachingoutwithahandtostopme.“Hey,hey.Youokay?”
“Yeah.”Irunashakinghandthroughmyhair,lookingpasthim.IfeeljitteryandgrossandsomehowlikeI’vedonesomethingunfaithful—toEthanandmysister.IneedtogetawayfromDaneandgetsomeair.“IthinkIjustwanttogohomeandwallowforabit.Youknowme.”
Henodslikehedoesknowandreleasesmewithasympatheticsmile.
ButIsuddenlyfeellikeIdon’tknowanything.Iamthunderstruck.
That’snotentirelytrue.Iknowsomethings.Forexample,IknowIlostmyjobtodayAndIknowthatmysister’shusbandcheatedonherbeforeandisapparentlyhappytocheatonheragain.Withhertwin.IneedtogetsomeclarityandfigureouthowthehellI’mgoingtotellAmiaboutallofthis.chaptersixteen
I’mhalfwaytomycarwhenIhearEthan’svoicecallingouttomeacrosstheparkinglot.Turning,Iwatchashecarefullymakeshiswaythroughtheslushandtheiceandcomestoastopinfrontofme.
Hedidn’tbothertoputonhiscoatbeforefollowingmeoutsideandshiversagainstthecold.“Areyousureyou’reokay?”
“I’mnotgreat,honestly,butI’llbefine.”Ithink.
“Doyouwantmetocomebacktoyourplacewithyou?”
“No.”Iwince,hopingheknowsthiscameoutmoreabruptlythanIintended.Attemptingtotampdownmyanger,Itakeadeepbreathandgivehimaverywobblysmile;thisisn’thisfault.IneedtotalktoAmi.IneedtothinkandmakesomesenseofhowDanehadtheballstosaysomethinglikethattomewithhisbrotherjustfeetaway.IneedtofigureoutwhatthehellI’mgoingtodoforajob,immediately.Iscrapethetoeofmybootagainstapatchofice.“IthinkIjustneedtogohomeandfreakoutalittleonmyown.”
Ethantiltshishead,gazeroamingmyfacedeliberately.“Okay.Butifyouneedmetocomeover,justtext.”
“Iwill.”Ipullmylipsbetweenmyteeth,resistingtheurgetotellhimtocomewithmeandbemysoundingboard.ButIknowthatwon’twork.“I’llbeterriblecompanytonight,butit’sstillgoingtobeweirdsleepingaloneinmyownbed.You’veruinedme.”
Icantellhelikesthis.Hetakesastepforwardandbendstokissme,deepeningitgently,atiny,sweettaste.Whenhepullsback,herunsafingeracrossmyforehead.He’ssosweet.It’sstartedsnowingagainandtheflakesflutterdowntolandonhisshoulders,thebackofhishand,thetipsofhislashes.“Youleftreallysuddenly,”hesays,andI’mnotsurprisedthathecan’tletitgo.I’mactinglikeamaniac.“WhathappenedwhenIwasinthebathroom?”
Itakeadeepbreathandslowlyblowitout.“Danesaidsomethingkindofshitty.”
Ethanleansthetiniestbitawayfromme.It’ssuchasubtlegesture,Iwonderifheevennoticesthathedidit.“Whatdidhesay?”
“Whydon’twetalkaboutthislater?”Iask.“It’sfreezing.”
“Youcan’tjustsaysomethinglikethatandthencallaraincheck.”Hereachesformyhand,butdoesn’tsqueezeitinhis.“Whathappened?”
Ituckmychinintomycoat,wishingIcoulddisappearintoitentirely,likeaportableblanketfort.“Hehitonme.”
Ablastofwindwhipsacrossthefrontofthebuilding,rufflingthefrontofEthan’shair.He’slookingatmesointentlyhedoesn’tevenwinceatthecold.
“Whatdoyoumean,like..”Hefrowns.“Like,touchedyou?”
“No.”Ishakemyhead.“HesuggestedAmiandItradebrothersforalittlefun.”Ihavetheurgetolaugh,becausesayingitoutloudmakesitsoundcompletelyridiculous.Whothehelldoesthat?Whohitsonhisbrother’sgirlfriend,whoisalsohiswife’ssister?WhenEthandoesn’tsayanything,Irepeatitmoreslowly.“Hewantedmetolethimknowifweeverwantedtomixitup,Ethan.”
Abeatofsilence.
Two.
AndthenEthan’sexpressionturnsquizzical.“‘Mixitup’doesn’tnecessarilymean,like,tradepartners.”
Staycalm,Olive.Igivehimameaningfulstareandcounttoteninmyhead.“Yeah.Itdoes.”
Hisexpressionstraightensagain,andahintofprotectivenesscreepsintohisvoice.“Okay,grantedhissenseofhumorisn’talwaysappropriate,butDanewouldn’t—”
“Irealizethisisshockingonanumberoflevels,butIdoknowwhatsomeonehittingonmelookslike.”
Hestepsaway,clearlyfrustrated.Withme.“IknowDaneisimmaturesometimesandsortofself-centered,buthewouldn’tdothat.”
“Justlikehewouldn’tlietoAmiforGodknowshowlongwhilehebangedwhoeverhewanted?”
Ethan’sfacehasturnedadeepred.“Ithoughtweagreedthatwedon’tknowthesituationthere.It’spossibleAmialreadyknows.”
“Well,haveyouaskedhim?”
“WhywouldI?”hesays,handswavinginfrontofhimlikewhatI’msuggestingisn’tjustunnecessary,it’spreposterous.“Olive.Weagreedtoletthatgo.”
“Thatwasbeforehepropositionedmewhileyouwereinthebathroom!”Istareathim,willinghimtohavesomekindofreactiontothis,buthe’sjustcloseduponme,hisfaceunreadable.“Haveyouconsideredthatyou’veputhimonsomekindofpedestal—thoughforthelifeofme,Ican’tunderstandwhy—andareincapableofseeinghe’satotalsleaze?”
Ethanflinches,andnowIfeelbad.Daneishisbrother.Myinstinctistoapologize,butthewordsarestuckinmythroat,blockedbytheenormousreliefoffinallysayingwhatIthink.
“Haveyouconsideredyou’reseeingwhatyouwanttosee?”
Istraighten.“Whatisthatsupposedtomean?ThatIwantDanetohitonme?”
He’sshakingandI’mnotsureifit’sfromcoldoranger.“Itmeansthatmaybeyou’repissedoffaboutlosingyourjob,andyou’reinthehabitofbeingbitterabouteverythingAmihasthatyoudon’t,andyou’renotobjectiveaboutanyofthis.”
Thisfeelslikeaphysicalpunchtomystomach,andItakeaninstinctivestepback.
Flames.Onthesideofmyface.
Hisshouldersfallimmediately.“Shit.Ididn’tmean—”
“Yes,youdid.”Iturnaroundandkeepwalkingtomycar.Hisfootstepsacrossthesaltedsidewalkfollow.
“Olive,wait.Comeon.Don’tjustwalkaway.”
Ipulloutmykeysandflingopenthedoorwithsomuchforce,thehingesgroaninprotest.
“Olive!Just—”
Islamthedoorandwithshakinghandsandnumbfingers,jammykeyintotheignition.Hiswordsaredrownedoutbythesoundoftheenginestrugglingtoturnover.Finallyitcatches,andIshiftintoreverse,backingup.Hewalksalongsideme;handontheroofofthecarashepleadsformyattention.It’ssocoldIcanseemybreathinfrontofmyface,butIdon’tfeelathing.Myearsarefullofstatic.
Hewatchesmeleave,andinmyrearviewmirrorIseehimgrowsmallerandsmaller.WehaveneverbeensofarfromthatmountaintopinMaui.
???
THEDRIVEHOMEISAblur.Ialternatebetweenbeingmadatmyselfforallofthis,terrifiedaboutmyfutureincome,furiousatDane,sadanddisappointedoverEthan,andabsolutelyheartbrokenforAmi.It’snotenoughtohopethatDanewillturnoveranewleafnowthathe’smarried—heisabadguy,andmysisterhasnoidea.
ItrynottobedramaticandoverthinkwhatEthansaid.ItrytogivehimthebenefitofthedoubtandimaginehowI’dfeelifsomeoneaccusedAmiofdoingthis.Idon’tevenhavetothinkaboutit:I’ddoanythingformysister.Andthat’swhenithitsme.IrememberDane’ssmilingfaceattheairport,andmyshocktodaythathewouldhitonmewithhisownbrotherjustafewfeetaway.Dane’sconfidenceinbothcasesisn’taboutmeormyabilitytokeephissecret.ItwasaboutEthanandhisinabilitytobelievehisbrotherwouldintentionallydoanythingbad.Ethanishisride-or-die.
IconsidergoingtoAmi’stowaitforher,butifAmiwasplanningtomeetusallattherestaurant,shewon’tbethereanyway.They’dcomehometogetherlater,too.Icertainlydon’twanttobetherewhenDanegetsback.
Ididn’tthinkitwaspossible,butmymoodplummetsevenmorewhenIpullintomyparkinglot.Notonlyismymom’scarthere(andparkedinmycoveredspace),butsoareDiego’sandmycousinNatalia’s,whichmeansTíaMaríaisprobablyhere,too.Ofcourse.
Withmycarparkedontheothersideofthecomplex,Itrudgethroughtheslushandupthestairstomyapartment.IcanalreadyhearTíaMaría’sbrayinglaugh—sheismymother’ssisterandtheoneclosesttoherinage,butthetwoofthemcouldnotbemoredifferent:Momispolishedandfussy;TíaMariaiscasualandlaughsconstantly.AndwhereasMomhasonlymeandAmi(apparentlyhavingtwinswasplentyforher),TíaMariahassevenkids,eachneatlyspacedeighteenmonthsapart.Itwasn’tuntilIwasinthefifthgradethatIrealizednoteveryonehasnineteenfirstcousins.
AlthoughournuclearfamilyisrelativelysmallcomparedtotherestoftheTorresandGonzalescrew,astrangerwouldneverknowthatonlyfourofuslivedinourhousewhenIwasgrowingupbecauseatleasttwootherpeoplewerealwaysthere.Birthdayswereenormousaffairs,Sundaydinnersroutinelyhadthirtypeopleatthetable,andtherewasneveranyplacetosulkalone.Apparentlynotmuchhaschanged.
“I’mprettysureshe’salesbian,”TíaMaríaissayingasIclosethedoorbehindme.ShelooksupatthesoundandpointstoNatalia.“Tellher,Olive.”
Iunwindmyscarffromaroundmyneckandstompthesnowfrommyboots.Aftertheslushywalkthroughtheparkinglot,mypatienceisalreadythin.“Whoarewetalkingabout?”
TíaMariaisstandingatthekitchencounter,choppingtomatoes.“Ximena.”
Ximena,theyoungestdaughterofMomandTíaMaria’soldestbrother,TíoOmar.“She’snotalesbian,”Isay.“She’sdatingthatguy,what’shisname?”
IlookatNatalia,whotellsthem,“Boston.”
Isnap,pointing.“That’sright.God,whataterriblename.”
“It’swhatyounameyourdog,”Nataliaagrees,“notyourkid.”
Ishrugoffmycoatandtossitoverthebackofthecouch.Momimmediatelystepsawayfromthedoughshe’srollingandcrossestheroomtopointedlyhangitup.Stoppinginfrontofme,shepushesmydamphairoffmyforehead.
“Youlookterrible,mija.”Sheturnsmyfacefromsidetoside.“Eatsomething.”Kissingmycheek,sheheadsbackintothekitchen.
Ifollow,smilinggratefullywhenNataliasetsacupofteadowninfrontofme.ForasmuchasIcomplainaboutmyfamilyalwaysbeinginmybusiness.havingthemhereisadmittedlyprettygreat.ButthisalsomeansIcan’tavoidtellingMomthatIwasfired.
“Ahaircutdoesn’tmeansomeone’sgay,Mom,”Nataliasays.
TíaMaríalooksupatherincredulously.“Haveyouseenit?It’sallshortonthesidesandblueontop.Shediditrightafter”—shedropshervoicetoawhisper—“thewedding.”
BothMomandTíaMariamakethesignofthecross.
“Whywouldyouevencareifshe’sgay?”NataliamotionstowhereDiegoiswatchingTVonmycouch.“Diegoisgay,andyoudon’tcareaboutthat.”
Atthesoundofhisnameheturnstofaceus.
“Diegocameoutofthewombgay,”TíaMariasays,andthenturnstohim.“IswearyouhadcopiesofVogueunderyourmattress,insteadofdirtymagazines.”
“Nobodygetspornfrommagazinesanymore,Mom,”Nataliasays.
TíaMariaignoresher.“Idon’tcareifshe’sgay.Ijustthinkweshouldallknowsowecanfindheranicegirl.”
“She’snotgay!”Diegosays.
“ThenwhydidIfindadildoinhersockdrawer?”TíaMariaaskstheroom.
Diegogroansandpullsapillowoverhisface.“Herewego.”
Nataliaturnstofacehermother.“She’sthirty-three.Whatwereyoudoinginhersockdrawer?”
TíaMaríashrugsasifthisinformationisirrelevanttothestory.“Organizing.Itwaspurpleandhugewithalittle”—shemovesherfingerinfrontofhertoindicatewhatshemeans—“wigglythingononeside.”
Nataliapressesherhandtohermouthtostiflealaugh,andItakeasipofmytea.Ittasteslikesadnessandhotwater.
Mymomstopschoppingandsetsdownherknife.“Whydoesthatmeanshe’salesbian?”
TíaMariablinksather.“Becauselesbiansusethosestrap-onthings.”
“Mom,stop,”Nataliasays.“Lotsofpeoplehavevibrators.Ihaveawholeboxfullofthem.”Shewavesinmydirection.“YoushouldseeOlive’scollection.”
“Thanks,Nat.”
Mymompicksupaglassofwineandtakesalargegulp.“Itseemssmarttobealesbianrightnow.Menareawful.”
Sheisnotwrong.
Ileanacasualhipagainstthecounter.“So.Whyareyouguyscookingatmyapartment?”Iask.“Andwhenareyougoinghome?”
Nataliaturnsoffthestoveandmovesherpottoanemptyburner.“Yourdadneededsomestuffatthehouse.”That’sit,that’sherentireanswer,andinthisfamily,it’splenty:Dadrarelygoestothehouse—helivesaloneinacondonearLakeHarriet—butwhenhedoesvisit,mymomevacuatesthepremisesimmediately.Theraretimesshefeelsspunkyenoughtostickaround,she’llcommitsomeprettypettysabotage.Once,shepulledouthiscollectionofvinylrecordsandusedthemastrivetsandcoasters.Anothertime,whenhestoppedbybeforeaweeklongbusinesstrip,sheputawholefreshtroutunderoneoftheseatsinhiscarandhedidn’tfindituntilhegothome.ItwasinAugust.
“IwishI’dbeenbornalesbian,”Momsays.
“Thenyouwouldn’thaveme,”Icounter.
Shepatsmycheek.“That’sokay.”
ImeetNatalia’seyesoverthetopofmymugandfightthelaughthatisbubblingupinsideme.Iworrythatifitescapes,itcouldturnintohystericalcacklesthatwouldimmediatelytransitionintochokingsobs
“What’swithyou?”TíaMariaasks,andittakesmeamomenttorealizeshe’stalkingtome.
“She’sprobablytiredfromhernewboyfriend,”Nataliasingsanddoesalittlesexydancebackovertothestove.“I’msurprisedhewasn’twithyou.Weonlycameinbecausehiscarwasn’toutfront.Godknowswhatwe’llsee.”
TheyallspinoutofcontrolaboutmeandEthanforafewminutes—
Finally!Setevapasóaltren!
Soperfect,sofunnybecausetheyhatedeachother!
Twinsdatingbrothers:isthatevenlegal?—
beforeI’mabletogetthembackintoorbit.Diegowalksintothekitchenandburnshimselfsneakingsomethingfromthefryingpan.
“I’mnotsurewe’restillathing,”Iwarnthem.“Maybeweare.Wehadafight.Idon’tevenknow.”
Everyonegaspsandasmall,dissociatedpieceofmewantstolaugh.It’snotlikeEthanandIhavebeentogetherforyears.Myfamilyjustgetssoimmediatelyinvested.Butthenagain,sodidI.
Ican’tthinkaboutthingswithusbeingover.Itpushesaspikeofpainthroughme.
AndwowdidIkillthemood.IdebateforaboutthreesecondswhetherI’mgoingtobothertellingthemthatIalsolostmyjob,butIknowIam.IfDanetellsAmi,andthenAmitalkstooneofmycousinsandMomfindsoutthatIgotfiredanddidn’ttellher,shewillcallallofhersiblingsandbeforeIknowit,IwillhavefortytextmessagesfrommyauntsandunclesalldemandingthatIcallmymotherimmediately.Facingitnowisgoingtobeterrible,butit’sstillinfinitelyeasierthanthealternative.
“Also,”Isay,wincing,“Ilostmyjob.”
Silenceswallowsusall.Slowly,veryslowly,Momputsdownherglassofwine,andTíaMariapicksitup.“Youlostyourjob?”Cautiousrelieftakesoverherfacewhenshesays,“YoumeantheButakejob.”
“No,Mami,theoneIstartedtoday.”
Everyonegasps,andDiegocomesup,wrappinghisarmsaroundme.“No,”hewhispers.“Seriously?”
Inod.“Seriously.”
TíaMariatakesmyhandandthenglancesatMomandNatalia,eyeswide.Herexpressionscreams,Itistakingeverythinginmetonotcalleveryoneinthefamilyrightnow.
ButMom’sfocusonmeremainsintense;it’stheprotectivemama-bearexpressionthattellsmeshe’sreadytobattle.“Whofiredmydaughteronherfirstdayofwork?”
“Thefounderofthecompany,actually.”Andbeforeshecanunleashatiradeaboutthegraveinjusticeofallthis,Iexplainwhathappened.Shesitsdownonabarstoolandshakesherhead.
“Thisisn’tfair.Youwereinanimpossiblesituation.”
Ishrug.“Imean,it’sactuallytotallyfair.Igotafreevacation.Ididn’thavetolieaboutit.It’sjustmyluckheshowedup,andIgotcaught.”
Nataliaroundsthecountertohugme,andI’mswallowingeveryfewsecondsjusttokeepfromcrying,becausethelastthingIwantisforMomtoworryaboutme,when—althoughshedoesn’tknowit—she’sgoingtoneedtosaveallhermaternalsympathyforAmi.
“Callyourfather,”Momsays.“Havehimgiveyousomemoney.”
“Mami,I’mnotgoingtoaskDadformoney.”
ButMomisalreadylookingatNatalia,whopicksupherphonetotextmyfatheronmybehalf.
“LetmetalktoDavid,”TíaMariasays,referringtoTíoOmarandTíaSylvia’soldestson,theownerofapairofpopularrestaurantsintheCities.“Ibethehasapositionforyou.”
Therearesomebenefitstohavinganenormousfamily:you’reneveronyourowntosolveaproblem.Idon’tevencareifDavidwouldhavemewashingdishes—theprospectofajobissuchahugereliefIfeellikeI’mmelting.“Thankyou,Tía.”
Momgiveshersisteralook.“OlivehasaPhDinbiology.Youwanthertobeawaitress?”
TíaMariathrowsherhandsup.“You’regoingtolookdownyournoseatajob?Where’sherrentgoingtocomefrom?”
“Nooneinthisfamilyistoogoodforanyjobthathelpsuspayourbills.”Istepbetweenthem,kissingTíaMaria’scheekandthenMom’s.“IappreciateanyhelpIcanget.”AfterButake,IappliedforallthelocaljobsI’mqualifiedforanyway,andonlyHamiltonofferedmeaposition.RightnowI’msoexhaustedI’mnotfeelingpicky.“TellDavidI’llcallhimtomorrow,okay?”
Atthispointintheday,I’mrunningonfumes.Withatleastonestresssettled—theprospectofajob—mybodydeflatesandallatonceIfeellikeIcouldfallasleepstanding.Althoughthefoodthey’remakingsmellsamazing,IknowI’llhaveafridgefullofittomorrowandamnotatallhungryrightnow.Ithrowamumbled“Goodnight”tothemandnooneargueswhenIshuffledownthehalltomybedroom.
Floppingonmybed,Ilookatmyphone.IhaveacoupleoftextsfromEthanI’llreadtomorrow,butIopenmymessageswithAmi.Shetextedmeaboutanhourago.
Holyshit,Ollie!Danetoldmeaboutyourjob!
Ijusttriedtocallyou!
I’llcallyoutomorrow.
Okay,sweetie.Loveyou
Loveyoutoo
DreadingtheconversationthatI’mgoingtohavewithmysistertomorrow,Idropmyphoneontomybedsidetableandpullthecomforterovermyheadwithoutbotheringtogetundressed.Iclosemyeyesandfallintoarestlesssleeptothesoundsofmyfamilyinthenextroom.chapterseventeen
Becausetheearlybirdgetsthewormorwhatever,Amiisatmydoorbeforethesunisevenfullyup.She’sclearlyalreadygonetothegym,allswingingponytailanddewycomplexion.Shesetsabagwithasetofcleanscrubsonthebackofthecouch,whichmeansshe’sheadingtothehospitalfromhere.Ifthebounceinherstepisanythingtogoby,Danehasn’tsaidawordaboutlastnight.
Incomparison—andwearenothingifnotconsistentlyon-brand—I’mtired,notyetcaffeinated,andI’msureitshows.Ibarelysleptlastnight,stressingoverpayingrent,whatIneedtosaytoAmithismorning,andwhatwillhappenwithEthanwhenwefinallytalkaboutallofthis.Ihavenoplansfortodayortomorrow,whichisagoodthingconsideringIneedtocallDavidandbegforajob.
OnceIopenedEthan’stextsfromlastnight,Isawtherewereonlytwo,andtheysaid,simply,CallmeandHeadedtobedbutlet’stalktomorrow.Partofmeisgladhedidn’tbothertryingtoapologizeintextsbecauseI’mnotahugetexter,andanotherpartismadhedidn’teventry.IknowIneedsomedistanceuntilItalktoAmi,butI’vealsogrownsousedtohavingnearconstantcontactwithEthanandImisshim.Iwanthimtochasemealittle,sinceI’mnottheonewhomesseduphere.
Amicomesinside,embracesmetightly,andthenboundsintothekitchenforaglassofwater.“Areyou,like,totallyfreakingout?”
I’msureshemeansthejobsituation,sowhenIsay,“Um,yes,”shereallyhasnoideathescopeofmyanxietyrightnow.Iwatchhertakedownhalftheglassinalonggulp.
Comingupforair,shesays,“MomsaysDavidisgoingtohireyouatoneofhisrestaurants?That’sawesome!OhmyGod,Ollie,Icancomeinontheslownightsandit’llbejustlikewhenwewerekids.Icanhelpwiththejobsearch,oryourrésumé,whatever.”
Shrugging,Itellher,“That’dbegreat.Ihaven’thadtimetocallhimyet.ButIwill.”
Amigivesmealookthatishalf-amused,half-bewilderedthatIseemtohaveforgottenhowourfamilyoperates.“TíaMariacalledTíoOmar,andTíoOmargotintouchwithDavid,andyou’reallset.”
Ilaugh.“OhmyGod.”
Sheswallows,nodding.“ApparentlyhehasawaitresspositionatCameliaforyou.”
Huh.Hisnicestrestaurant.Ilovemyfamily.“Cool.”
ThismakesAmilaughinherdisbelievingOh,Oliveway.“‘Cool’?”
“Sorry,”Isay.“Iswear,IamsoemotionallywreckedIcan’tevengetituptobeexcitedrightnow.IpromisetodobetterwhenItalktoDavidlater.”
Shesetsherglassdown.“MypoorOllie.Isyourstomachfeelingbetter?”
“Mystomach?”
“Danesaidyouweren’tfeelingwell.”
Oh,Ibethedid.Andfunnything:assoonasshementionsDane,mystomachdoesrollover.“Right.Yeah,I’mokay.”
Amitiltsherheadformetofollowherasshecarriesherwaterintothelivingroomandsitsonthecouch,legscrossedinfrontofher.“Ethanendedupleavingearly,too.”Shemustnotethelookofsurpriseonmyfacebecausesheraisesabrow.“Youdidn’tknow?”
“Ihaven’ttalkedtohimsinceIleft.”Ilowermyselfdownbesideher.
“Likeatall?”
Itakeabreath.“Iwantedtotalktoyoufirst.”
Shefrowns,confused.“Tome?Isthisabouthowweirdhewasbeing?”
“No,I—Whatdoyoumean?”
“Hewasjustreallyquiet,andabouttwentyminutesafterIgotthere,hesaidhewasgoingtoheadout.Danesaidheprobablyhadthesamebugyouhad.”
Iclenchmyhandsintofists,andthenimaginewhatitwouldbeliketoslamoneofthemintoDane’ssmugface.“Actually,IwantedtotalktoyouaboutDane.”
“Dane?”
“Yeah.He..”Ipause,tryingtofigureoutwheretobegin.Ihavegonethroughthisconversationathousandtimes,butIstilldon’thavetherightwords.“DoyourememberwhenEthanandIfirstmet?”
Amipursesherlipstogetherasshethinksback.“Atsomepicnicorsomething?”
“TheStateFair.PrettysoonafteryouandDanestarteddating.ApparentlyEthanthoughtIwascute,andwhenhementionedtoDanethathewantedtoaskmeout,Danetoldhimnottobother.”
“Wait,Ethanwantedtoaskyouout?Howdidhegofromthattohatingyourguts,allinoneday?”
“It’ssortofalongstory.”ItellheraboutseeingEthan,thinkinghewashot,howhewassortofflirtyandthenhisreactionwhenhesawmeeating.Iexplainthatitwasamisunderstanding,butIcantellshegetsit—we’vebothalwaysstruggledwithourcurvygenes,andobjectivelytheworldtreatsthinwomendifferently.“ButIguessEthanhadaskedDaneifitwascoolifheaskedmeout,andDanebasicallysaidIwasn’tverynice,andnottobother.SinceIthoughtEthanwasbeingajerkaboutthefood,Iwasdistanttohim,andthenhejustassumedDanewasright,andthatsetourentiredynamicintomotion.”
Amilaughslikethisisasillyjoke“Danewouldn’tsaythat,honey.He’salwayshatedthatyoutwocouldn’tgetalong.Hewasgenuinelysohappywhenhesawyoutwoattheairport.”
“Really?”Iask.“Orishejustsayingthatbecauseit’swhatweallwanttohear?”Istandfromthecouchandmovetositonthecoffeetableinfrontofher.Itakeherhandinmine.Ourhandsaresimilarinsomanyways,butAmihasaglitteringdiamondonherringfinger.
“Ithink..”Isay,stillfocusedonourentwinedfingers.Thisissohardtosay—eventothepersonIknowbestinthewholeworld.“IthinkDanewantedtokeepmeandEthanapartbecausehedidn’twantEthantoletitslipthatDanewasseeingotherwomenwhenyouwerefirsttogether.”
Amijerksherhandawaylikeshe’sbeenshocked.“Olive,that’snotfunny.Whywouldyousaythat?”
“Listentome.Idon’tknowtheexactdates,butEthansaidsomethinginMauiaboutyouandDanenotbeingexclusiveuntilrightbeforetheengagement.”
“Ethansaidthat?Whywouldhe—”
“Heassumedyouknew.ButyouandDanewereexclusivethewholetime,right?”
“Ofcoursewewere!”
Ialreadyknewthis,butI’mhitwithaspikeofvindicationnonetheless.Iknowmysister.
Shestandsandwalkstotheothersideoftheroom.Amiisnolongerbouncyandpostworkout-giddy.She’squiet,browfurrowed.Mysisterfidgetswhenshe’sanxious,andrightnowshe’stuggingonherring,absentlyspinningitaroundherfinger.
Beingatwinmeansoftentimesfeelingresponsiblefortheother’semotionalwell-being,andrightnowallIwantistakeitallback,pretendI’mjokingandtravelbacktoatimewhenIknewnoneofthis.ButIcan’t.Imayneverknowwhatmyidealrelationshiplookslike,butIdoknowthatAmideservestobeenoughforsomeone,tobelovedcompletely.Ihavetokeepgoing.
“Allthetripstheytook?DaneletyouthinktheywereEthan’sidea,thatEthanhadplannedthem—”
“TheywereEthan’sidea.Like,objectively,”shesays.“Danewouldn’tplanthatkindofthingwithouttalkingtomefirst.EthanplannedstufftogetoverSophie,andbecausehe’ssingle—orwas”—sheletsoutaweird,surprisedsnort—“hejustassumedthatDanewasfreeforalltheholidays,too.”
“MostofthesetripswerebeforeSophie,orduring.”Iwatchherlookformorereasonstoexplainallthisaway,andsay,“Look,Iunderstandwhythat’swhatDanewantedyoutothink.”Iwaituntilshemeetsmyeyes,hopingsheseesthatI’mbeingsincere.“ItlooksbetterforhimifEthanistheonewhoisconstantlydraggingDanearoundtheworldonthesecrazyadventures.ButAmi,Ethanhatestofly.YoushouldhaveseenhimontheplanetoMaui—hecouldbarelykeepittogether.Hegetsseasick,too.Andseriously,he’ssuchahomebody—likeme.Ihonestlycan’timagineEthanplanningasurfingtriptoNicaraguanow—like,theideamakesmelaugh.DanewasusingEthanasanexcusetogodostuffandtoseeotherwomen.There’satleastoneotherwomanthatEthanmentioned.”
“Wherethefuckisyourtinfoilhat,youpsycho?”Amigrowls.“I’msupposedtobelievethatmyhusbandisthatmanipulative?Thathe’sbeencheatingonmeforwhat—threeyears?Doyoureallyhatehimthatmuch?”
“Idon’thatehim,Ami—atleastIdidn’t.”
“Doyouhaveanyideahowridiculousthisallsounds?Doyouhaveanyone’swordbesidesEthan’stogoby?”
“Ido.becauseDanehitonmelastnight.Atthebar.”
Sheblinksseveraltimes.“I’msorry,what?”
Iexplainwhathappened,aboutEthangoingtothebathroomandDanesuggestingwecouldallswingifthemoodhappenedtostrike.Iwatchasmysister’sface,solikemyown,goesfromconfusion,tohurt,tosomethingborderingonrage.
“Holyshit,Olive.”Shegapesatme.“Whyareyoulikethis?Whyareyousocynicalabouteverything?”Shepicksupherglassandwalkstothesink.Herfaceissotightandbleakshelookssickagain,andmystomachlurchesinguilt.“Whydoyoualwayswanttoseetheworstinpeople?”
Idon’tevenknowwhattosay.Iamstruckcompletelymute.Inthesilence,Amiturnsonthewaterwithanaggressivejerkandstartswashingoutherglass.“Like,areyouseriousrightnow?Danewouldn’thitonyou.Youdon’thavetolikehim,butyoudon’tgettoalwaysassumehisintentionsareterrible,either.”
Ifollowherintothekitchen,lookingonassherinsesherglassbeforefillingitwithsoapandwashingitalloveragain.“Sweetie,Ipromiseyou,Idon’twanttothinktheworstofhim—”
Sheslamsthefaucetoffandwhirlstofaceme.“DidyoutellanyofthistoEthan?”
Inodslowly.“RightbeforeIleft.Hefollowedmeoutside.”
“And?”
“And..”
Herexpressionclears.“Isthatwhyyouhaven’ttalked?”
“Hewantstobelievehisbrotherisagoodguy.”
“Yeah.Iknowthefeeling.”Thesecondstickby,andIdon’tknowwhatmoreIcansaytoconvinceher.
“I’msorry,Ami.Idon’tknowwhatelsetosaytomakeyoubelieveme.Ineverwanted—”
“Neverwantedwhat?ToruinthingsbetweenDaneandme?BetweenyouandEthan?Thatlastedwhat?”Shelaughssharply.“Twowholeweeks?You’realwayssohappytobelieveeverythingjusthappenstoyou.‘MylifehasturnedoutthewayithasbecauseI’msounlucky,’”shesays,mimickingmeinadramaticallysaccharinevoice.“‘BadthingshappentopoorOlive,andgoodthingshappentoAmibecauseshe’slucky,notbecauseshe’searnedthem.’”
HerwordscarrythevagueechoofEthan’s,andI’msuddenlyangry.“Wow.”Itakeastepback.“YouthinkIwantedthistohappen?”
“Ithinkit’seasierforyoutobelievethatwhenthingsdon’tgoyourway,it’snotbecauseofsomethingyoudid,it’sbecauseyou’reapawninsomecosmicgameofchance.But,newsflash,Olive:youendupunemployedandalonebecauseofthechoicesyoumake.You’vealwaysbeenthisway.”Shestaresatme,clearlyexasperated.“Whytrywhentheuniversehasalreadydecidedthatyou’llfail?Whyputanyeffortintorelationshipswhenyoualreadyknowyou’reunluckyinlove,andthey’llendindisaster?Overandoverlikeabrokenrecord.Youneveractuallytry.”
Myfaceishot,andIstandthereblinking,mouthopenandreadytorespondbutabsolutelynothingcomesout.AmiandIarguesometimes—that’sjustwhatsiblingsdo—butisthiswhatshereallythinksofme?ShethinksIdon’ttry?ShethinksI’mgoingtoendupunemployedandalone,andthatviewofmeisonlycomingoutnow?
Shegrabsherthingsandmovestowardthedoor.“Ihavetogotowork,”shesays,fumblingtoslipthestrapoverhershoulder.“Someofusactuallyhavethingstodo.”
Ouch.Istepforward,reachingouttostopher.“Ami,seriously.Don’tjustleaveinthemiddleofthis.”
“Ican’tbehere.IhavetothinkandIcan’tdothatwithyouaround.Ican’tevenlookatyourightnow.”
Shepushespastme.Thedooropensandthenslamsshutagain,andforthefirsttimesinceallthisstarted,Icry.chaptereighteen
Theworstthingaboutcrisesistheycan’tbeignored.Ican’tjustwalkbacktobedandcrawlunderthecoversandsleepforthenextmonth,becauseateightinthemorning,onlyanhourafterAmileaves,TíaMariatextsmetoletmeknowIhavetogodowntoCameliaandtalktoDavidaboutawaitressingjob.
DavidistenyearsolderthanIambuthasaboyishfaceandaplayfulsmilethathelpsdistractmefromthethrobbingbackgroundimpulsetopullallmyhairoutandfallkickingandscreamingtothefloor.I’vebeeninCameliaaboutahundredtimes,butseeingitfromtheperspectiveofanemployeeissurreal.Heshowsmemyuniform,wherethescheduleistapedtothewallinthekitchen,howtheflowoftrafficmovesthroughthekitchen,andwherethestaffmeetsfordinnerbeforetherestaurantopenseachnight.
Ihaveyearsofwaitressingundermybelt—allofusdo,manyofthematoneofmycousinDavid’srestaurants—butneverataplacethisclassy.I’llneedtowearblackpantsandastarchedwhiteshirt,withthesimplewhiteapronaroundmywaist.I’llneedtomemorizetheever-changingmenu.I’llalsoneedtohaveatrainingwiththesommelierandpastrychef.
Iadmittolookingforwardtotheselasttwothingsverymuch.
Davidintroducesmetotherestofthewaitstaff—makingsuretoleaveoutthepartwhereI’mhisbabycousin—aswellasthechefsandsouschefsandthebartender,whohappenstobetheredoinginventory.Mybrainisswimmingwithallthenamesandinformation,soI’mgratefulwhenDavidturnsandtellsmetobeheretomorrownightforthestaffmeetingandtraining,startingatfour.I’llbeshadowingawaiternamedPeter,andwhenDavidwinkslikePeteriscute,mystomachtwistsbecauseIwanttobewithmycuteman,theonewhowonmeoverwithhiswitandlaughand—yes,hisbicepsandcollarbones.ButI’mpissedathim,andmaybehe’spissedatme,andforthelifeofmeIhavenoideahowthisisgoingtoshakedown.
Davidmustseesomereactioninmyfacebecausehekissesthetopofmyheadandsays,“I’vegotyou,honey,”andInearlybreakdowninhisarmsbecausewhetherit’sluckorgenerationsofeffortandattentionensuringit,Ihaveatrulyamazingfamily.
It’sonlynoonbythetimeI’mbackhome,andit’sdepressingtoregisterthatIshouldbehalfwayintomysecondworkdayatHamilton,meetingnewcolleagues,settingupaccounts.ButIadmitthereisatinyglimmerinthebackofmythoughts—itisn’trelief,notexactly,butit’snotaltogetherdifferentfromrelief,either.It’sthatI’veacceptedthatithappened—Imessedup,Iwasfiredbecauseofit—andthatI’mactuallyokaywithit.That,thankstomyfamily,IhaveajobthatcancarrymeaslongasIneeditto,andforthefirsttimeinmylifeIcantakethetimetofigureoutwhatIwanttodo.
AssoonasIfinishedgradschool,Ididashortpostdocandthenimmediatelyenteredthepharmaceuticalindustry,workingastheliaisonbetweentheresearchscientistsandmedicaldoctors.Ilovedbeingabletotranslatethesciencetomoreclinicallanguage,butI’veneverhadajobthatfeltlikejoy,either.TalkingtoEthanaboutwhathedidmademefeellikeDilbertincomparison,andwhyshouldIspendmyentirelifedoingsomethingthatdoesn’tlightmeonfirelikethat?
ThisfreshreminderofEthanmakesmegroan,andalthoughIknowhe’satwork,Ipulloutmyphoneandsendhimaquicktext.
I’llbehometonightifyouwanttocomeover.
Hereplieswithinafewminutes.
I’llbetherearoundseven.
Iknowheisn’tthemostemotionallyeffusiveguy,butthetoneofhislastthreetextssendsmeintoaweirdpanicspiral,likeit’sgoingtotakemorethanaconversationtofixwhateverisgoingonwithus,eventhoughIdidn’tdoanythingwrong.Ihavenoideawhathisperspectiveisonanyofthis.OfcourseIhopethathebelievesme,andthatheapologizesforlastnight,butatightleadballinmystomachwarnsmethatitmightnotgothatway.
Lookingatmywatch,IseethatIhavesevenhoursuntilEthangetshere.Iclean,Igroceryshop,Inap,ImemorizetheCameliamenu,Istress-bake.anditonlyeatsupfivehours.
Timeisinchingalong.Thisdayisgoingtolastadecade.
Ican’tcallAmiandrambleaboutanyofthis,becauseI’msureshe’sstillnotspeakingtome.Howlongisshegoingtokeepthisup?Isitpossiblethatshe’llbelieveDaneindefinitely,andI’llhavetoeatmywordseventhough—again—Ihaven’tdoneanythingwronghere?
Iputthemenudownonmycoffeetableandsprawlonthecarpet.ThepossibilitythatthisriftbetweenmeandAmicouldbecomepermanentmakesmelight-headed.Itwouldprobablybeagoodideaformetohangoutwithsomeonefordistraction,butDiego,Natalia,andJulesareallatwork,Momwillonlyworryifsheknowswhat’sgoingon,andcallinganyoneelseinmyfamilywilljustresultinfifteenpeopleshowinguponmydoorstepwithsympathydinnerlaterwhenEthanandIaretryingtohashthingsout
Thankfullyhedoesn’tmakemewait.Hecomesoverrightatseven,holdingtakeoutfromTibetKitchenthatsmellssomuchmoreappealingthanthepizzaI’dorderedforustoshare.
“Hey,”hesays,andgivesalittlesmile.Heducks,likehe’sgoingtokissmylips,butthenmakesadetouratthelastsecond,landingonmycheekinstead.
Myheartdrops.
Istepback,lettinghimin,anditsuddenlyfeelstoowarminmyapartment;everythingseemstoosmall.Ilookeverywherebutathisface,becauseIknowifIlookathimandgetthesensethatthingsbetweenusreallyaren’tokay,I’mnotgoingtobeabletokeepmyselftogetherfortheconversationweneedtohave.
It’ssoweird.Hefollowsmeintothekitchen,wemakeupplatesoffood,andthenwesitonthefloorinthelivingroom,onoppositesidesofthecoffeetable,facingeachother.Thesilencefeelslikeahugebubblearoundme.Forthepastweek,Ethanhaspracticallylivedhere.Nowitfeelslikewe’restrangersalloveragain.
Hepokesathisrice.“You’vebarelylookedatmesinceIgothere.”
Theresponsetothisdriesupinmythroat:Becauseyoukissedmycheekwhenyouwalkedin.Youdidn’tpullmeagainstyou,orgetlostinalongkisswithme.IfeellikeIbarelyhadyou,andnowyou’realreadygone.
Soinsteadofansweringaloud,Ilookupathimforthefirsttimeandtrytosmile.Heregistersthefailedeffort,anditclearlymakeshimsad.AnachebuildsandexpandsinmythroatuntilI’mhonestlynotsureI’llbeabletogetwordsaroundit.IhatethissomberdynamicmorethanIhatethefactthatwe’refighting.
“Thisissoweird,”Isay.“Itwouldbesomucheasiertobesnarkywitheachother.”
Henods,pokingathisfood.“Idon’thavetheenergytobesnarky.”
“Meeither.”IreallyjustwanttocrawlacrossthefloorandintohislapandhavehimteasemeaboutmybrabeingtoosmallorhowIcouldn’tstayawayfromhimlongenoughtofinishmydinner,butit’slikeDaneandhisfrattyfacearejustparkedhereinbetweenus,keepingusfrombeingnormal
“ItalkedtoDanelastnight,”hesaysrightthen,adding,“late.Iwentovertherelate.”
Amididn’tmentionthis.DidsheevenknowthatEthanstoppedbylastnight?
“And?”Isayquietly.Ihavenoappetiteandbasicallyjustpushapieceofbeefaroundtheplate.
“Hewasreallysurprisedthatthat’showyoutookwhathesaid,”Ethansays.
Acidfillsmystomach.“Whatashock.”
Ethandropshisforkandleansbackonbothhands,staringatme.“Look,whatamIsupposedtodo?Mygirlfriendthinksmybrotherhitonher,andhesayshedidn’t.Doesitmatterwhoisrighthere?You’rebothoffended.”
Atthis,Iamincredulous.“You’resupposedtobelieveme.Anditabsolutelymatterswho’srighthere.”
“Olive,we’vebeentogetherforliketwoweeks,”hesayshelplessly.
Ittakesafewsecondsformetobeabletounscramblethepileofwordsthatfallsintomythoughts.“I’mlyingbecauseourrelationshipisnew?”
Sighing,hereachesup,wipingonehandoverhisface.
“Ethan,”Isayquietly,“IknowwhatIheard.Hepropositionedme.Ican’tjustpretendlikehedidn’t.”
“Ijustdon’tthinkhemeantwhatyouthoughthedid.Ithinkyou’reprimedtothinktheworstofhim.”
Iblinkbackdowntomyplate.ItwouldbesoeasytochoosetomakepeacewithEthanandAmiandjustsay,“Youknowwhat?You’reprobablyright,”andjustletitbe,becauseafterallthis,ofcourseI’mprimedtothinktheworstofDane,andIcouldeasilygivehimawideberthfortherestoftime.ButIcan’tdothat.Therearetoomanyredflags—whyamItheonlyonewhocanseethem?It’snotbecauseIamapessimistorlookfortheworstinpeople;Iknowthatisn’ttrueaboutme,notanymore.IfellforEthanonthatisland,afterall.I’mexcitedaboutajobatCameliasothatIhavetimetoreallythinkaboutwhatIwantmylifetolooklike.I’mtryingtofixallthepartsofmethataren’tworkingbecauseIknowIhaveachoiceinhowmylifegoes—thatitisn’tallluck—butassoonasItrytobeproactive,it’slikenoonewantstoletme.
Andwhyisn’tDaneherewithEthan,tryingtomakethingsrightwithme?Actually,Iknowwhy:Heissosurethatnoonewillbelieveme,thateveryonewillthink,Oh,OliveisjustbeingOlive.JustbelievingtheworstabouteveryoneMyopinionsaresoinconsequentialbecauseintheireyesI’malwaysgoingtobethepessimist.
“HaveyoutalkedtoAmi?”heasks.
Ifeelthewayheatcrawlsupmyneckandacrossmyface.ThefactthatmytwinisonEthanandDane’ssidehereistrulykillingme.Ican’tevenadmititoutloud,soIjustnod.
“Youtoldherabouthimdatingotherpeoplebeforetheywereexclusive?”heasks.Inodagain.“Andaboutyesterday?”
“Yeah.”
“Ithoughtyouweren’tgoingtosayanythingtoher,”hesays,exasperated.
Igapeathim.“AndIthoughtDanewouldn’thitonhiswife’ssister.Iguesswe’vebothdisappointedyou.”
Hestaresatmeforalongbeat.“HowdidAmitakeit?”
MysilenceclueshiminthatAmididn’tbelieveme,either.“Shedidn’tknowabouttheotherwomen,Ethan.ShethinksDanehasbeencommittedsincedayone.”
Ethanlooksatmepityinglyanditmakesmewanttoscream.“Soyou’renotgoingtobeabletomovepastthis?”heasks.
Myjawactuallydrops.“Whichpart?Mysister’shusbandcheatingonherbeforetheyweremarried,yourbrotherhittingonme,ormyboyfriendnotbelievingmeaboutanyofit?”
Hisgazeturnsbacktome,andhelooksapologeticbutunwavering.“Again:Idon’tbelievehisintentwaswhatyouthinkitwas.Idon’tthinkhe’dhitonyou.”
Ilethimheartheshockinmyvoice“Thenyou’reright,”Isay.“I’llhaveahardtimemovingpastthis.”
Whenheleansforward,Ithinkhe’sgoingtodigintohisplate,butinsteadhepushestostand.“Ireallylikeyou,”hesaysquietly.Hecloseshiseyesanddragsahandthroughhishair.“Iamcrazyaboutyou,actually.”
Myhearttwists,painfully.“Thentakeastepbackandlookatthissituationfromadifferentangle,”Iplead.“WhatdoIhavetogainfromlyingaboutDane?”
We’vehadsomanydisagreements,andtheyallseemsohilariouslyminorinhindsight.Thecheesecurds,theairplane,theHamiltons,Sophie,theSkittledress.Igetitnow—thatallofthosewereopportunitiesforustohavecontactwitheachother.Thisisthefirsttimewe’vebeenatatrueimpasseandIknowwhathe’sgoingtosaybeforeheevengetsthewordsout.
“Ithinkweshouldprobablybreakup,Olive.I’msorry.”chapternineteen
It’sthequietbeforethedinnerrush,andI’mdoingthefinalcheckofmysection.NataliaisthefourthfamilymemberthisweektojusthappentostopbyCameliaatexactlyfouro’clock.ShesaidshewantedtosayhitoDavidbecauseshehasn’tseenhiminforever,butIknowthat’sbullshitbecauseDiego—whocamebyyesterdaytohasslemeusingasimilarlyflimsystory—saidbothDavidandNataliawereatTíaMaría’slessthanaweekago.
Asmuchasthesizeandpresenceofmyfamilycanfeeloppressiveattimes,it’sthegreatestcomfortIhaverightnow.EvenifIpretendtobeannoyedthatthey’reconstantlycheckinguponme,theyallseethroughit.Becauseifitwereanyofthemstruggling—andithasbeen,manytimes—Iwouldfindareasontodropbyatfouro’clockwherevertheywork,too.
“Mama,whenwe’resad,weeat,”Nataliasays,followingmewithaplateoffoodasIadjusttheplacementoftwowineglassesonatable.
“Iknow,”Itellher.“ButIswear,Ican’teatanymore.”
“You’restartingtolooklikeabobble-headedSelenaGomez.”Shepinchesmywaist.“Idon’tlikeit.”
ThefamilyknowsEthanbrokeupwithme,andthatAmiandIare“arguing”(althoughthere’snothingactiveaboutit;Icalledherafewtimesafterourbigblow-up,andtwoweekslatershehasyettoreturnanyofmycalls).Inthepasttendays,I’vebeenbombardedwithwell-meaningtextsandmyfridgeiscompletelypackedwithfoodthatMombringsdailyfromTíoOmar,Ximena,Natalia,Cami,Miguel,TíoHugo,Stephanie,Tina—almostasifthey’vemadeaFeedOlivecalendar.Myfamilyfeedspeople;it’swhattheydo.ApparentlymymissingSundaydinnerfortwoweeksinarow—becauseofwork—hasgottentheentirefamilyonhighalert,andit’sdrivingthemallcrazynotknowingwhat’sgoingon.Ican’tblamethem;ifJules,orNatalia,orDiegowentintohiding,I’dbeoutofmymindworried.Butitisn’tmystorytoshare;Iwouldn’tknowhowtotellthemwhatishappening,andaccordingtoTíoHugo,whocamebyyesterdayto“Um,getabusinesscardforaninsuranceagentfromDavid,”Amiwon’ttalkaboutit,either.
“IsawAmiyesterday,”Nataliasaysnow,andthenpauseslongenoughformetostopfussingwiththetablesettingsandlookupather.
“Howisshe?”Ican’thelpthetightleantomywords.Imissmysistersomuch,andit’swreckingmethatsheisn’tspeakingtomeIt’slikemissingalimb.EverydayIgetsoclosetocaving,tosaying,‘You’reprobablyright,Danedidn’tdoanythingwrong,”butthewordsjustwon’tcomeout,evenwhenItestthelieoutinfrontofthemirror.Itsticksinmythroat,andIgethotandtightalloverandfeellikeI’mgoingtocry.Nothingallthatterribleevenhappenedtome—otherthanlosingmyjob,mysister,andmyboyfriendinatwenty-four-hourperiod—butIstillfeelakindofburningangertowardDane,asifheslappedmewithhisownhand.
Nataliashrugsandpicksapieceoflintoffmycollar.“Sheseemedstressed.ShewasaskingmeaboutsomeonenamedTrinity.”
“Trinity?”Irepeat,diggingaroundinmythoughtstofigureoutwhythenamesoundsfamiliar.
“ApparentlyDanehadafewtextsfromher,andAmisawthemonhisphone.”
Icovermymouth.“Likesexytexts?”Iambothdevastatedandhopefulifthisistrue:IwantAmitobelieveme,butI’dratherbewrongaboutallofitthanhavehergothroughthatpain.
“Iguessshejustaskedifhewantedtohangout,andDanewaslike‘Nah,I’mbusy’butAmiwaspissedthathewastextingawomanatall.”
“OhmyGod,IthinkTrinitywasthegirlwiththemangobutttattoo.”
Nataliagrins.“IthinkIreadthatbook.”
Thismakesmelaugh,andthesensationislikeclearingawaycobwebsfromadarkcornerofaroom.“EthanmentionedsomeonenamedTrinityShe—”
Istop.Ihaven’ttoldanyoneinmyfamilyaboutwhatEthantoldme.IcouldtrytoblowDane’sentirecoverstoryifIwanted,butwhatgoodwouldthatdo?Idon’thaveanyproofthathewasseeingotherwomenbeforehemarriedAmi.Idon’thaveanyproofthathepropositionedmeinthebar.Ijusthavemyreputationasapessimist,andIdon’twantmyentirefamilylookingatmethewayEthandidwhenheregisteredthatevenmytwinsisterthinksI’mmakingthisallup.
“Shewhat?”NataliapresseswhenI’vefallenquiet
“Nevermind.”
“Okay,”shesays,firedupnow,“whatisgoingon?Youandyoursisterarebeingsoweirdlately,and—”
Ishakemyhead,feelingthetearspressinginfromthebackofmyeyes.Ican’tdothisbeforemyshift.“Ican’t,Nat.IjustneedyoutobethereforAmi,okay?”
Shenodswithouthesitation.
“Idon’tknowwhoTrinityis,”Isay,andtakeadeepbreath,“butIdon’ttrustDaneatallanymore.”
???
AFTERMIDNIGHT,IDRAGMYbagfrommylockerinthebackroomandslingitovermyshoulder.Idon’tevenbothertolookatmyphone.Amiisn’ttexting,Ethanisn’tcalling,andthere’snothingIcansayinreplytothefortyothermessagesonmyscreeneverytimeIlook.
Buthalfwaytomycar,itchimes.It’sabriefflurryofbellsandrotorsandchangefalling:thesoundofajackpot.Ami’stexttone.
It’stenbelowoutside,andI’minablackskirtandthinwhitebutton-down,butIstopwhereIamanywayandpullmyphonefrommybag.AmihassentmeascreencapofDane’stextlist,andtherearetheusualsuspects—AmiandEthanandsomeofDane’sfriends—buttherearealsonameslikeCassieandTrinityandJulia.Ami’stextsays,
Isthiswhatyouweretalkingabout?
Idon’tknowhowtoanswer.OfcoursemyguttellsmethatthoseareallwomenDanehassleptwith,buthowwouldIknow?Theycouldbeworkcolleagues.Ibitemylip,typingwithfrigidfingers.
Ihavenoideawhotheyare.
Idon’thavealistofnames.IfIdid,Iwouldhaveshownittoyou.
Iwaitforhertostarttypingagain,butshedoesn’t,andI’mfreezing,soIclimbintomycarandcranktheheatashighasitwillgo.
Butaboutthreeblocksfrommyapartmentcomplex,myphonechimesagain,andIpulloverwithasharpjerkofmysteeringwheel.
Danelefthisphonehereyesterday.
Ispentliketwohourstryingtoguesshispasscode,andit’sfucking“1111.”
Ibitebackalaughandstareatthescreenhungrily:she’sstilltyping.
Isentmyselfallthescreenshots.
Allthemessagesfromthesewomenareaskingthesamething—whetherDanewantstohangout.Isthatcodeforabootycall?
Iblinkatthescreen.Issheserious?
Ami,youknowwhatIthinkalready.
Olliewhatifyouwereright?
Whatifhe’scheatingonme?
Whatifhe’sbeencheatingonmethiswholetime?
Afractureformsrightdownthemiddleofmyheart.Halfofitbelongstomysister,forwhatshe’sabouttogothrough;theotherhalfwillalwayskeepbeatingformyselfevenwhennooneelsewill.
I’msorryAmi.IwishIknewwhattosay.
ShouldIansweroneofthetexts?
Istareatthescreenforabeat.
Onhisphone?
AsDane?
Yes.
Imean,youcould.
Ifyoudon’tthinkyou’llgetanhonestanswerfromhim.
Iwait.Myheartisinmythroat,clawingitswayup.
I’mscared.
Idon’twanttoberightaboutthis.
Iknow,honey.
Forwhatit’sworth,Idon’teither.
I’mgoingtodoittonight.
Itakeadeepbreath,closemyeyes,andletitoutslowly.Somehow,beingbelievedatlastdoesn’tfeelnearlyasgoodasI’dhopeditwould.
I’mhereifyouneedme.
???
ALTHOUGHI’DHADTWOMONTHSofunemploymentnottoolongago,IspentmostofthattimehuntingforjobsorhelpingAmiprepareforthewedding,sonow,keepingbusyduringthedayhasbecomesomuchmoreimportant.BecauseifIdon’t,IthinkaboutEthan.OrAmi.
Idon’thearfromhertheentirenextday,andthere’saknotinmystomachthesizeofTexas.IwanttoknowhowthingswentwithDanelastnight.Iwanttoknowwhethershe’srepliedtothetextsorconfrontedhim,andwhathappened.Ifeelprotective,andworriedforher,butthere’sliterallynothingIcando,andIcan’tcallEthan,either,becauseweallknowhe’sontheDaneTrainuntiltheendofthetracks.
GiventhatI’mofftonight,gettingoutofmyapartment—andmyhead—becomesapriority.Idreadgoingtothegym,butwheneverIgetinfrontofthepunchingbag,I’mamazedhowmuchbetterIfeel.I’vestartedwalkingdogsatthelocalHumaneSocietyandhaveanewgoldenretrieverbuddynamedSkipperthatI’mconsideringbringinghomeforMomasasurprise—whetheritwouldbeagoodsurpriseorabadoneI’mnotsure,whichiswhyI’mstillconsideringit.Ihelpafewofmyneighborsshoveltheirwalkways,gotoatalkonartandmedicineattheWalkerArtCenter,andmeetDiegoforalatelunch.
Hehasn’theardfromAmitoday,either.
It’sstrangetorealizethatassoonasIgotoffthecareertreadmill,mylifesuddenlystartedtofeellikemineagain.IfeellikeIcanlookupforthefirsttimeinadecade.Icanbreathe.There’sareasonEthandidn’tknowmuchaboutmyjob:Inevertalkedaboutit.ItwaswhatIdid,notwhoIwas.Andeventhoughmanyofmybreathsache—becauseImissEthan,Ido,Imisshimsomuchithurts—nothavingtheweightofacorporatejobonmyshouldersisanunbelievablerelief.IneverknewIwasthisperson.IfeelmoremyselfthanI’veeverbeen
Amicallsatfive,whenI’vejustwalkedinmyfrontdoorandammakingabeelineforthelintroller;Skipperisashedder,eveninearlyFebruary.Ihaven’theardhervoiceintwoweeks,andIcanhearthewaymyownshakeswhenIanswer.
“Hello?”
“Hey,Ollie.”
Ileavealong,quietpause.“Hey,Ami.”
Hervoicecomesoutthickandstrangled.“I’mreallysorry.”
Ihavetoswallowafewtimestogetpasttheclogofemotionsinmythroat“Areyouokay?”
“No,”shesays,andthen,“butyes.Doyouwanttocomeovertonight?Imadelasagna.”
Ichewmylipforafewbeats.“IsDanegoingtobethere?”
“He’llbeherelater,”sheadmits“PleaseOllie?Ireallywantyoutobeheretonight.”
There’ssomethingaboutthewayshe’ssaiditthatmakesmefeellikeit’smorethanjustsister-reconnectingtime.“Okay,I’llbeoverintwenty.”
???
ILOOKATMYSELFINthemirroreveryday,soitshouldn’tbesojarringtoseeAmistandingonherporchwaitingforme,butitis.We’venevergonetwoweekswithoutseeingeachother—evenincollege.IwasattheU,shewasatSt.Thomas,andeveninthebusiestweek,westillsaweachotheratdinneronSundays.
Iwrapmyarmsaroundherastightasthey’llgoandsqueezeeventighterwhenIcantellshe’scrying.ItfeelslikethatfirstinhaleafterholdingmybreathaslongasIcan.
“Imissedyou,”shesaysthroughasobintomyshoulder.
“Imissedyoumore.”
“Thissucks,”shesays.
“Iknow.”Ipullback,wipingherface.“Howareyou?”
“I’m..”Shetrailsoff,andthenwesortofstandthere,grinningateachotherthroughthetelepathybecausetheanswerisobvious:Myweddingwasruinedbyciguateratoxin,Imissedmyhoneymoon,andnowmyhusbandmaybecheatingonme.“I’malive.”
“Ishehome?”
“Work.”Shestraightens,takingadeepbreathandpullingherselftogether.“He’llbehomearoundseven.”
Sheturnsandleadsmeinside.Ilovetheirhouse—it’ssoopenandbright,andI’mgratefulthatAmihassuchastrongdecoratingsensebecauseIassumeifitwasleftuptoDane,thedecorwouldbealotofVikingspurple,dartboards,andmaybesomehipsterleathercouchesandacraftcocktailcartthathe’dneveruse.
Amimovestothekitchen,pouringuseachabigglassofwine.
Ilaughwhenshehandsminetome.“Oh,soit’sthatkindofnight.”
Shenods,smilingeventhoughIcantellthere’snothinghappyhappeninginherbodyrightnow.“Youhavenoidea.”
IstillfeellikeIhavetotiptoearoundthetopic,butIcan’thelpbutask,“Didyoutakehisphonelastnight?What’sthelatest?”
“Yeah.Itookhisphone.”Amitakesalongdrinkandthenlooksatmeovertherimofherglass.“I’lltellyouallaboutitlater.”Shetiltsherhead,indicatingthatIshouldfollowherintothefamilyroom,whereshe’salreadygotourplatesoflasagnasetupontwoTVtrays.
“Well,thislookscomfy,”Itellher.
Shecurtsies,flopsdownontothecouch,andhitsplayonTheBigSick.Wemisseditinthetheaterandkeptmeaningtowatchit,sothere’sasweetlittleachethatrisesinmythroatknowingthatshewaitedtoseeitwithme.
Thelasagnaisperfect,themovieiswonderful,andIalmostforgetthatDaneliveshere.Butthenanhourintothemovie,thefrontdooropens.Ami’sentiredemeanorshifts.Shesitsup,handsonherthighs,andtakesadeepbreath.
“Youokay?”Iwhisper.AmIhereformoralsupportwhilesheconfrontsherhusband?Ican’tdecidewhetherthatwillbefantasticorexcruciatingorboth.
IhearDanedrophiskeysonthecounter,shufflethroughthemail,andthencallout,“Hey,babe.”
“Hey,honey,”shecallsback,brightly,falsely,anditissoincongruouswiththebleakwayshelooksatme.
Mystomachdropsinaweirdburstofanticipatorystress,andthenDaneisthereinthedoorway.Hesoundssurprisedanddispleased.“Oh.Hey,Olive.”
Idon’tbotherturningaround.“Gotohell,Dane.”
Amichokesonherwineandthenlooksatme,eyesshiningwithamusementandtension.“Honey,there’slasagnaintheovenifyouwantsome.”
Icanfeelhimstilllookingatthebackofmyhead—Iknowheis—buthejuststandsbehindmeforafewmoresecondsbeforesayingquietly,“Okay,I’llgrabsomeandleaveyoutwotoit.”
“Thanks,hon!”Amicallsout.
Sheglancesatherwatchandthenreachesfortheremote,turningthevolumedown.“I’msonervous,I’mnauseated.”
“Ami,”Isay,leaningin,“what’sgoingon?”
“Itextedthem,”shesays,andmyjawdrops.“I’mscreaminginside.”Iseeit,too—thetightnessaroundhereyes,thewayIcantellshe’sholdingbacktears.“Ihadtodoitthisway.”
“Dowhatexactly,Ami?”Iask.
Butbeforeshecananswer,thedoorbellrings.
Ami’sattentionshootsovermyshoulder,towardthedoorleadingtothekitchen,andwelistenasDanewalksacrossthetileentrywaytoanswerit.Slowly,soslowlyIcanseeshe’sshaking,Amistands.
“Comeon,”shesaysquietlytome,andthenshecallsouttoDanewithacalmclarityIcan’tbelieve,“Who’satthedoor?”
IfollowAmioutjustasDaneisfranticallytryingtoguideawomanbackoutside,andmybloodpressuredrops.
DidshetextthewomenasDane,andinvitethemhere?
“Whoisit,honey?”Amirepeats,innocently.
ThewomanpushespastDane.“Who’sthat?”
“I’mhiswife,Ami.”Amistretchesoutherhand.“Whichoneareyou?”
“WhichoneamI?”thewomanrepeats,toothunderstrucktoreturnAmi’shandshake.SheglancesatDane,andherfacepales,too.“I’mCassie.”
Daneturns,ashen,andstaresatmysister.“Babe.”
Foronce,IseeAmi’sjawtwitchatthepetname,andIwanttoshootarocketofjoyintotheskybecauseIknewshehateditandjustpretendedtolikeit!Twinpowersforthewin!
“Excuseme,Dane,”Amisayssweetly,“I’minthemiddleofintroducingmyselftooneofyourgirlfriends.”
Icanseethepanicinhiseyes.“Babe,thistotallyisn’twhatyouthink.”
“WhatdoIthinkitis,babe?”sheasks,eyeswidewithfaux-curiosity
Anothercarpullsintothedriveway,andawomanslowlyemerges,takinginthesceneinfrontofher.Shelookslikeshejustgotoffwork:she’swearingnurse’sscrubsandherhairisinabun.Itoccurstomethatthisisnothowyoudressforsomeoneyou’retryingtoimpress;it’showyoudressforsomeoneyou’veknownforalongtimeandarecomfortablearound.
Ican’thelpbutglareatDane.Whatacompletedirtbag.
Amilooksatmeoverhershoulderandsaystome,“ThatmustbeTrinity.”
OhmyGod.MysisteriscurrentlyblowingupDane’sgame,andshedoesn’tevenneedachecklisttodoit.Thisisnuclear-levelmadness.
DanepullsAmiaside,leaningdowntomeethereyes.“Hey.Whatareyoudoing,hon?”
“IthoughtIshouldmeetthem.”Herchinshakes,andit’spainfultowatch.“Isawthemessagesonyourphone.”
“Ihaven’t—”hestarts.
“Yeah,”Cassiesaysquietly.“Youhave.Lastweek.”ShelooksatAmi,thenatme.“Ididn’tknowhewasmarried.IswearIhadnoidea.”
Sheturnsandmakesherwaybacktohercar,passingtheotherwoman,who’sstoppedseveralyardsaway.IcantellfromTrinity’sexpressionthatshe’sfiguredoutwhat’shappeninghere.
“You’remarried,”shesaysflatly,fromadistance.
“He’smarried,”Amiconfirms.
TrinitylooksbackatDanewhenhesitsdownonthedoorstepandputshisfaceinhishands.“Dane,”shesays.“Thisissofuckedup.”
Henods.“I’msorry.”
Tohercredit,TrinitylooksdirectlyatAmi.“Wehaven’tbeentogetherinawhile,ifthathelps.”
“What’s‘awhile’?”Amiasks.
Trinityliftsashoulder,dropsit.“Fivemonthsorso.”
Aminods,breathingdeepandfast,strugglingtonotcry.
“Ami,”Isay,“goinside.Liedown.I’llbeininasecond.”
SheturnsandquicklydodgesDane’soutstretchedhandasshepasses.Acardoorslamsdownatthestreetandmyheartlurches—howmanymorewomenaregoingtoshowuptonight?
Butitisn’tanotherwoman.It’sEthan.He’scomingfromwork,wearingfittedgraypantsandabluedressshirt,lookinggoodenoughtoclimb.
I’mshell-shockedbywhat’shappeningandtryingtokeepmyshittogethersoIcanbestrongforAmi,butIstillfeellikeI’vebeenturnedinsideoutatthesightofhim.
“Oh,”Amisaysfromthedoor,loudenoughforeveryonetohear.“IinvitedEthan,too,Ollie.Ithinkheowesyouanapology.”Andthenshequietlyclosesthefrontdoorbehindher.
Trinitymeetsmyeyesandgivesmeadrysmile.“Goodluckwiththis.”LookingdownatDane,shesays,“Ithoughtitwasweirdthatyoutextedmetocomeoverafterdisappearingmonthsago.”Shegnawsherlip,lookingmoredisgustedthanupset.“Ihopesheleavesyou.”Withthat,sheclimbsintohercarandpullsoutofthedriveway.
Ethanhasstoppedafewfeetawaytowatchthisinteraction,hisbrowsfurrowedinrecognition.Heturnshisattentiontome.“Olive?What’sgoingonhere?”
“Ithinkyouknowwhat’sgoingonhere.”
Danelooksup,eyesredandswollen.Apparentlyhe’dbeencryingbehindthathand.“Amiinvitedthemhere,Iguess.”Heliftshishands,defeated.“Holyshit,Ican’tbelievewhatjusthappened.”
Ethanlooksatmeagainandthenbacktohisbrother.“Butyouweren’tstill.?”
“OnlyacoupletimeswithCassie,”Danesays.
“AndTrinityaboutfivemonthsago,”Iaddhelpfully.ThismomentisinnowayaboutmeandEthan,butIcan’thelpgivinghimmybestItoldyousoface.
Danegroans.“I’msuchanidiot.”
IcanseewhenEthanrealizeswhathe’shearing.It’slikeaninvisiblefistpuncheshiminthechest,andhetakesastepbackbeforelookingupatmewiththeclarityheshouldhavehadtwoweeksago.
God,itshouldbesatisfying,butitisn’t.Nothingaboutthisfeelsgood.
“Olive,”hesaysquietly,voicethickwithapology.
“Don’t,”Isay.Ihaveasisterinsidewhoneedsmeandhavezerotimeforhimorhisworthlessbrother.“TakeDanewithyouwhenyougo.”
Turning,Iwalkbackintothehouseanddon’tevenlookbackatEthanasIclosethedoorbehindme.chaptertwenty
It’safewhoursbeforeIget—andignore—acallfromEthan.Icanonlyassumehe’sbeenbusydealingwithDane,butIamalsodealingwithDane,justlessdirectly:Iampackingupallofhisclothes.AndIcanfeeltheintensityofAmi’sdesiretogethimoutofthehousebecauseformaybethefirsttimeinherlife,itdoesn’tevenoccurtohertolookforacouponbeforeshesendsmeofftobuyagiantstackofboxesatMenards.
Ididn’twanttoleaveheralonewhileIranout,soIcalledMom,whobroughtNatalia,Jules,Diego,andStephanie,whoapparentlytextedTíoOmarandhisdaughterTinatobringmorewine.TinaandTíoOmaralsobroughtcookies—alongwithawholecarloadofcousins—so,fasterthanyoucansayGoodriddance,dirtbag,therearetwenty-twoofusworkingonpackingupeverypersonaltraceofDaneThomasandputtingeachboxinthegarage.
Exhaustedbutaccomplished,wealllandonwhateverempty,flatsurfacewecanfindinthelivingroom,anditalreadyfeelslikewehavejobs:mineistocuddleAmi,Natalia’sistokeepherwineglassfull,Mom’sistorubherfeet,TíoOmar’sistorefreshtheplateofcookieseverynowandthen,JulesandDiegoarehandlingthemusic,Tinaispacingtheroom,detailingpreciselyhowshe’sgoingtocastrateDane,andeveryoneelseiscookingenoughfoodforthenextmonth.
“Areyougoingtodivorcehim?”Stephasks,carefully,andeveryonewaitsforMomtogasp.butshedoesn’t.
Aminods,herfaceinherwineglass,andMompipesup,“Ofcourseshe’sgoingtodivorcehim.”
Weallstareather,stunned,andfinallyshesighsinexasperation.“Yabasta!Youthinkmydaughterisdumbenoughtogettangledupinthesamestupidgameherparentshavebeenplayingfortwodecades?”
AmiandIlookateachother,andthenburstoutlaughing.Afteraheavybeatofincreduloussilence,theentireroomfollowssuit,andfinallyevenMomislaughing,too.
Inmypocket,myphoneringsagain.Ipeekbutdon’tgetithiddenagainfastenoughbecauseAmicatchesapeekatmycontactphotoforEthanonthescreenbeforeIcandeclinethecall.
Tipsynow,sheleansintome.“Aw,thatwasagoodpicture.Wheredidyoutakethat?”
It’shonestlyalittlepainfultorecallthatday,whenEthanandIrentedthehideouslime-greenMustanganddrovealongtheMauicoastline,becomingfriendsforthefirsttime.Hekissedmethatnight.“ThatwasattheNakaleleblowhole,”Itellher.
“Wasitpretty?”
“Itwas,”Isayquietly.“Unbelievable,really.Theentiretripwas.Thankyou,bytheway.”
Amisqueezeshereyesclosed.“IamsogladDaneandIdidn’tgo.”
Staringather,Iask,“Seriously?”
“WhywouldIregretmissingitnow?Wewouldhavehadevenmoregoodmemoriesruined.IshouldhaveknownitwasabadomenwhenliterallyeveryonebutyouandEthangotsickatthewedding.”Sheturnsherglassyeyesuptome.“Itwasasignfromtheuniverse—”
“Dios,”Mominterjects.
Diegoholdsupafinger.“Beyoncé.”
“—thatyouandEthanaretheoneswhoshouldbetogether,”Amislurs.“NotmeandDane.”
“Iagree,”Momsays.
“SodoI,”TíoOmarcallsfromthekitchen.
Iholdupmyhandstostopthemall.“Idon’tthinkEthanandIaregoingtohappen,guys.”
Myphoneringsagain,andAmistaresrightatme,eyessuddenlyclear.“He’salwaysbeenthegoodbrother,hasn’the?”
“He’sbeenthegoodbrother,”Iagree,“butnotthebestboyfriendorthebestbrother-in-law.”Ileanforward,kissinghernose.“You,ontheotherhand,arethebestwife,sister,anddaughter.Andyouareveryloved.”
“Iagree,”Momsaysagain.
“SodoI,”Diegosays,lyingacrossourlaps.
“SodoI,”achoruscallsfromthekitchen.
???
THEGOODBROTHERCONTINUESTOcallmeafewtimesadayforthenextseveraldays,andthentransitionstotextsthatsaysimply,
I’msorry.
Olive,pleasecall.
Ifeellikesuchanenormousjerk.
WhenIdon’trespondtoanyofthem,heseemstotakethehintandstopstryingtogetintouchwithme,butI’mnotsureifthat’sbetterorworse.AtleastwhenhewascallingandtextingIknewhewasthinkingaboutme.Nowhemightbefocusedonmovingon,andI’msoconflictedoverhowthatmakesmefeel.
Ontheonehand,screwhimfornothavingmyback,forenablinghisbrothertobeaterribleboyfriend/husband,forbeingobstinatelyobtuseaboutaserialcheater.Butontheotherhand,whatwouldIdointhesamesituationtoprotectAmi?WoulditbehardtoseeherassketchythesamewayitwashardforEthantoseeDane?
Ontopofthat,Ethanwassoperfectinallotherrespects:witty,playful,infatuated,andstellarinbed—ithonestlyfeelssocrappytolosemyboyfriendbecausewedisagreedwithafightthatdidn’teveninvolveus,really,ratherthanbecauseweweren’tagoodfit.
Wewereagreatfit.Ourending—bycontrast—stillseemssojaggedandunfinished.
AboutaweekafterDaneleaves,ImoveoutofmyapartmentandintoAmi’shouse.Amidoesn’tparticularlywanttobealone,anditworksforme,too:IliketheideaofsavingtobuyaplaceofmyownorhavingsomeextrainthebankforanadventureonceIfigureoutwhatkindofadventureIwanttohaveIseeallthesechoicesunrollinginfrontofme—career,travel,friends,geography—anddespitethingsbeinginsaneandhardandmessy,Idon’tthinkI’veeverlikedmyselfmorethanIdonowIt’sthestrangestfeelingtobeproudsimplybecauseI’mtakingcareofmeandmine.Isthiswhatit’sliketogrowup?
Amiissooddly,constitutionallysolidthatonceDanepicksuphisstufffromthegarageandofficiallymovesout,sheseemsmostlyfine.It’salmostasiftheknowledgethatheistrashisenoughforhertogetoverhim.Thedivorcedoesn’tseemlikeawildgoodtime,butsheplugsaheadthroughherDivorceChecklistwiththesamecalmdeterminationwithwhichshesentinthethousandsweepstakesentriestowinthehoneymoon.
“I’mgoingtohavedinnerwithEthantomorrow,”shesaysoutofthebluewhileImakeuspancakesfordinner.
Ifliponebadly,anditfoldsinhalf,batteroozingontothelipofthepan.“Whywouldyoudothat?”
“Becauseheaskedme,”shesays,likeit’sobvious,“andIcantellhefeelsbad.Idon’twanttopunishhimforDane’ssins.”
Ifrownather.“That’sbigofyou,butyouknowyoucouldstillpunishEthanforEthan’ssins.”
“Hedidn’thurtme.”Amistandstorefillherglassofwater“Hehurtyou,andI’msurehewantstoownthat,too,butthat’sbetweenthetwoofyou,andyouhavetoanswerhiscallsfirst.”
“Idon’thavetodoanythingwhereEthanThomasisconcerned.”
Ami’ssilenceleavesmywordstoechobacktome,andIrealizehowtheysound.Sounforgivingbut.familiar.Ihaven’tfeltlikethatversionofmyselfinsolong,andIdon’tlikeit.
“Well,”Iamend,“tellmehowdinnergoes,andI’lldecideifhedeservesaphonecall.”
???
FROMWHATICANTELL,AmiandEthanhadagreattimeatdinner.HeshowedherphotosfromourMauitrip,ateasufficientamountoftheblameforDane’spastbehavior,andgenerallycharmedhersenseless.
“Yeah,he’sreallygoodatbeingcharmingoverdinner,”Itellher,aggressivelyunloadingthedishwasher.“RemembertheHamiltonsinMaui?”
“Hetoldmeaboutthat,”Amisays,andlaughs.“Somethingaboutbeinginvitedtoaclubwheretheylookatlabiainmirrors.”Shedrinksfromherwineglass.“Ididn’taskforclarification.Hemissesyou.”
Itrytopretendlikethisdoesn’tabsolutelythrillme,butI’msuremysisterseesstraightthroughthatnonsense.
“Doyoumisshim?”sheasks.
“Yes.”There’snopurposeinlying.“Alot.ButIopenedmyhearttohim,andhepinchedit.”Iclosethedishwasherandleanagainstthecountertofaceher.“I’mnotsureifI’mthekindofpersonwhocanopenbackupagain.”
“Ithinkyouare.”
“ButifI’mnot,”Isay,“thenIthinkthatmeansI’msmart,right?”
Amismilesatme,butit’shernew,restrainedsmileanditwrecksmealittle.Danekilledsomethinginher,someoptimistic,innocentlight,anditmakesmewanttoscream.Andthentheironyhitsme:Idon’twanttoletEthanmakemecynicalagain.Ilikemynewoptimisticandinnocentlight.
“IwantyoutoknowI’mproudofyou,”shesays.“Iseeallthechangesyou’remaking.”
Mylifefeelslikemineagain,butIdidn’tknowIneededhertoacknowledgeit.Itakeherhand,givingitalittlesqueeze.“Thankyou.”
“We’rebothgrowingup.Holdingsomepeopleaccountablefortheirchoices,lettingotherpeoplemakeamendsfortheirs..”Sheletsthesentencetrailoffandgivesmealittlegrin.Verysubtle,Ami.
“Wouldn’titbeweirdforyouifEthanandIgotbacktogether?”Iask.
Sheshakesherheadandquicklyswallowsanothersipofwinebeforesaying,“No,actually,itwouldmakemefeellikeeverythingthathappenedinthepastthreeyearshappenedforareason.”Amiblinksaway,almostlikeshedoesn’twanttoadmitthisnextpartbutcan’thelpherself.“I’malwaysgoingtowanttheretobeareasonforit.”
Iknownowthatit’sawasteofmytimelookingforreasons,orfate,orluck.ButI’vedefinitelycometoembracechoicesinthepastmonthorso,andI’mgoingtohavetofigureoutwhichoneI’llmakewhereEthanisconcerned—doIforgivehim,ordoIwalkaway?
???
THENIGHTTHATACHOICEisputdirectlyinfrontofme,theunexpectedandterriblehappens:IamhappilyworkingadinnershiftwhenCharlieandMollyHamiltonareseatedinmysection.
Ican’tblamethehostess,Shellie,becausehowwouldsheknowthatthisisperhapsthemostawkwarddiningpartyshecouldgiveme?ButthemomentIapproachthetableandtheylookup,weallfallintoacorpse-levelsilence.
“Oh,”Isay.“Hi.”
Mr.Hamiltondoesadoubletakeoverthetopofhismenu.“Olive?”
IenjoywaitressingsomuchmorethanIeverexpected,butIadmitIdon’tenjoythetinywincethatsnagshisshoulderwhenheregistersthatI’mnotjustcominguptohistabletosayhello,butIaminfactheretoservehisdinner.Thisisgoingtobeawkwardforallofus.
“Mr.Hamilton,Mrs.Hamilton,goodtoseeyou.”Ismile,noddingtoeachofthem.Inside,Iamscreaminglikeawomanbeingchasedwithachainsawinahorrormovie.“I’msupposedtobeservingyouthisevening,butIexpectthatwewouldallfeelmorecomfortableifyouwereputinsomeoneelse’ssection?”
Mr.Hamiltongivesmeaneasy,generousgrin.“I’mokaywiththisifyouare,Olive.”
Ah,butthere’sthekicker:Iamnot.
Mollylooksathim,browspulledlow“Ithinkshe’stryingtosayshewouldbemorecomfortablenothavingtoservethemanwhofiredheronherfirstdayofwork.”
Myeyesgowide.IsMollyHamiltononTeamOlivehere?
Ismileagainather,thenhim,strugglingtokeepabitofprofessionaldistance.“Itwilljusttakeamomenttogetyousetup.We’vegotabeautifultablerightbythewindowforyou.”
Withpinpricksalldownmyneck—andMolly’shissed“Areyoupleasedwithyourselfnow,Charles?Youarestilltryingtofillthatposition!”echoinginmyear—IhustleovertoShellie,tellherthesituation,andshequicklyshufflesafewreservationsaround.
They’removed,givenafreeappetizer,andIexhaleanenormousbreath.Dodgedthatbullet!
ButthenIreturntomysectiontofindthatEthanThomasisseatedatthetableintheirplace.
He’saloneandwearingagaudyHawaiianshirtwithavibrantplasticlei,andwhenIapproachthetable,mouthagape,Irealizethathe’sbroughthisownglass:aplasticflutedcocktailcupwithagiant$1.99stickeronit.
“WhatinGod’snameamIseeing?”Iask,awarethatatleasthalfofthedinersandmuchoftherestaurantstaffiswatchingus.
It’salmostliketheyallknewhe’dbehere.
“Hi,Olive,”hesaysquietly.“I,um..”Helaughs,andseeinghimnervousdoeswiggly,protectivethingstome.“Iwaswonderingwhetheryouservedmaitaishere?”
Isaythefirstthingthatcomestomind:“Areyoudrunk?”
“I’mtryingtogrand-gesture.Fortherightperson.Rememberwhenwehaddeliciousmaitais?”Henodstothecup.
“OfcourseIremember.”
“Thatday,Ibelieve,wasthedayIfellinlovewithyou.”
IturnandglareatShellie,butshewon’tmeetmyeyes.Thekitchenstaffscurriesbackintothekitchen.DavidpretendstobeengrossedinsomethingonaniPadnearthewaterpitchers,andifIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dthinkthatwasAmi’sflashofdarkhairdartingdownthehalltothebathroom.
“Youfellinlovewithme?”Iwhisper,handinghimamenuinapatheticattempttomakeitlooklikethere’snothingtoseehere.
“Idid,”hesays.“AndImissyou,somuch.IwantedtotellyouhowsorryIam.”
“Here?”Iask.
“Here.”
“WhileI’mworking?”
“Whileyou’reworking.”
“AreyoujustgoingtorepeateverythingIsay?”
HetriestowrestlehissmileundercontrolbutIcanseehowmuchthisexchangelightshimupinside.
Itrytopretenditdoesn’tdothesametome.Ethanishere.EthanThomasisgrand-gesturinginanuglyshirt,withafakemaitaiglass.It’stakingmybrainalittletimetocatchuptomyheart,whichiscurrentlyjackhammeringawaybeneathmybreastbone.
It’sbeatingsohard,infact,thatmyvoiceshakes.“DidyoucoordinatewiththeHamiltonsformaximumeffecthere?”
“TheHamiltons?”heasks,andturnstofollowmyeyesovertotheirtable.“Oh!”Ducking,heglancesupatme,eyescomicallywide.Asifthere’sanywheretohideinthatshirt?Oh,Ethan.“Wow,”hewhispers.“They’rehere?Thatis.acoincidence.Andawkward.”
“That’sawkward?”IlookwithmeaningathisbrightshirtandhisDay-Glogreencupinthemiddleoftheclassy,muteddiningroomofCamelia.
Butinsteadoflookingembarrassed,Ethanstraightens,growlingaquiet“Oh,you’rereadyforawkward?”Hereachesuptobeginunbuttoninghisshirt.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Ihiss.“Ethan!Keepyourclothes—”
Heshrugsoutofit,grinning,andwordsimmediatelyfallaway.BecausebeneathhisHawaiianshirthe’swearingashinygreentanktopthatstronglyresembles.
“Tellmethat’snot,”Isay,bitingbackalaughthatissoenormous,I’mnotsureI’mbigenoughtocontainit.
“ItwasJulieta’s,”Ethanconfirms,andlooksdownathischest.“Wehaditmadeoutofherdress.Yoursis,presumably,stillintactinyourcloset.”
“Iburnedit,”Itellhim,andhelookslikehe’sgoingtovehementlyprotestthisdecision.“Okay,fine,Ididn’t.Iplannedto.”Ican’thelpbutreachoutandtouchtheslipperysatin.“Ididn’trealizeyouwereattachedtoit.”
“OfcourseIam.Theonlythingbetterthanyouinthatdresswasyououtofit.”Ethanstands,andnoweveryoneisreallylookingathim.He’stall,hot,andwearingashinygreentanktopthatleavesnothingtotheimagination.Ethanisingreatshape,butstill.
“Thatreallyisaterriblecolor,”Isay.
Helaughs,giddy.“Iknow.”
“Like,itsaysalotthatevensomeoneascuteasyoucan’tpullitoff.”
Iwatchhissmileturnintosomethingheatedandseductive.“YouthinkI’mcute?”
“Inagrossway.”
Helaughsatthis,andithonestlysendsasharppangthroughmychesthowmuchIlovethatsmile,onthisface.“Cuteinagrossway.Okay.”
“You’retheworst,”Igrowl,butI’mgrinninganddon’tpullawaywhenheslideshishandtomyhip.
“Maybeso,”heagrees,“butrememberwhatItoldyouaboutmypenny?Howitisn’tsomuchthatthepennyitselfislucky,butitremindsmeoftimeswhengoodthingshappened?”Hegesturestotheshirtandwaggleshiseyebrows.“Iwantyouback.Olivia.”
“Ethan,”Iwhisper,anddartmyeyesaround,feelingthepressureofeveryone’sattentiononus,still.Thismomentisstartingtofeellikeareconciliation,andasmuchasmyheartandlungsandladypartsareonboardforthat,Idon’twanttorolloverthedeeperissuehere,whichisthatwhathedidbyignoringmytruthwasn’tokay.“Youreallyhurtme.Wehadthisrare,awesomehonesty,andsowhenyouthoughtIwaslying,itwasreallyhard.”
“Iknow.”Hebendssothathislipsarerightnearmyear.“Ishouldhavelistenedtoyou.Ishouldhavelistenedtomyowninstincts.I’mgoingtofeelshittyaboutthatforalongtime.”
Therearetworesponsesinme.OneisajoyfulOkaythen,let’sdothis!andtheotherisafearfulOhhellno.Thefirstfeelsbreezyandlight,thesecondfeelscomfortingandfamiliarandsafe.Asgoodasitfeelstobecareful,andtoriskboredomandlonelinessoverheartache,Idon’tparticularlywantcomfortableandsafeanymore.
“Iguessyoudeserveanotherchance,”Itellhim,onlyinchesawayfromhiskiss.“Youdogiveagreatmassage.”
Hissmilecomestorestonmineandtheentirerestauranterupts.Allaroundus,peoplestandfromtheirchairsandIlookup,realizingthatmeninthecornerwereDadandDiegoinwigs,andthetableofwomeninthebackwasMom,TíaMaría,Ximena,Jules,andNatalia.ThewomaninthehallwaytothebathroomreallywasAmi,andtherestaurantisfilledwithmyfamily,whoareallstandingandclappinglikeI’mtheluckiestwomanalive.AndmaybeIam.
Lookingover,IseetheHamiltonsnearthewindow,standingandclapping,too.Isuspectthattheydidn’tjustshowupheretonight—thatAmigotthemheresotheycouldseethatwhattheyenduredwithusinMauiresultedinsomethingenduringbetweenmeandEthanheretonight—butintheenditdoesn’tmatter.
Idon’tthinkI’veeverimaginedhappinesslikethis.
Luck,fate,determination—whateveritis,I’lltakeit.IpullEthandowntome,feelingtheslipperyslideofhistanktopundermyhandsandmylaughechoingintoourkissepilogue
Twoyearslater
Ethan
“Man,heisout.”
“Ishedrooling?”
“He’sacutesleeper.Butdeep,wow.Ibetpeopledrewonhisfaceincollege.”
“Notusuallythisdeep.”Apause.Itrytoopenmyeyesbutthefogofsleepisstilltooheavy.“I’mtemptedtolickhisfacetowakehimup.Wouldthatbemean?”
“Yes.”
Manyhavesaidthatmygirlfriendandhersisteraresosimilarthateventheirvoicessoundthesame,butaftertwoyearswithher,IcandistinguishOlive’seasily.Bothvoicesaresoft,withanalmostimperceptibleaccent,butOlive’sishuskier,slightlyscratchyaroundtheedges,likeshedoesn’tuseitmuch.Alwaysthelistenerwithmostpeople;theobserver.
“Lucas?”It’sAmi’svoiceagain,wavyandslow,asifcomingthroughwater.“Canyoucarryhimofftheplaneifweneedto?”
“Doubtful.”
Iamjostled.Ahandcomesuptomyshoulder,slidingupmynecktomycheek.“Ethannnnn.Thisisyourfaaaaather.Wearelaaaaanding.”
Itisn’tmyfather,infact;it’sOlive,speakingthroughherfistdirectlyintomyear.Idragmyselfoutofsleepwithintenseeffort,blinking.Theseatinfrontofmecomesintoblurryfocus;thesurfaceofmyeyesfeelsyrupy.
“Helives!”Oliveleansoverintomyfieldofvision,andgrins.“Hi.”
“Hi.”Iliftaheavyhandandrubmyface,tryingtoclearthefog.
“We’realmostontheground,”shesays.
“IswearIjustfellasleep.”
“Eighthoursago,”shetellsme.“WhateverDr.Lucasgaveyouworkedwell.”
Ileanforward,lookingpastOliveinthemiddleseatandAmiontheaisletowhereAmi’snewboyfriend—andmylongtimefriendandphysician,LucasKhalif—sitsontheotheraisleseat.“Ithinkyougavemeadoseforahorse.”
Heliftshischin.“You’realightweight.”
Ifallbackagainsttheseat,preparingtoclosemyeyesagain,butOlivereachesforme,turningmyfacetothewindowsoI’lllook.Theviewsucksthebreathoutofmythroat;theintensityofcolorislikeaslap.ImissedthisthefirsttimewecametoMaui,spendingtheentireflightpretendingtonotlookatOlive’sboobsthroughmyanxietyhaze,butbelowus,thePacificOceanisasapphire,restingonthehorizon.Theskyissoblueit’snearlyneon;onlyahandfulofwispycloudsarebraveenoughtoblocktheview.
“Holyshit,”Isay.
“Toldyou.”Sheleansin,kissingmycheek.“Youokay?”
“Groggy.”
Olivereachesupandtweaksmyear.“Perfect,becausefirstupisadipintheocean.That’llwakeyouup.”
Amidancesinherseat,andIglanceatmygirlfriendasshetakesinhersister’sreaction.Ami’sexcitementisinfectious,butOlive’sisnearlyblinding.Thingswerehardforherforalongtimeafterlosingherjob,butitalsogaveheraclarityshe’dneverhadbeforeSherealizedthat,whileshelovedscience,shedidn’tparticularlyloveherjob.WhilewaitingtablesatCamelia,sheservedawomanwhorananonprofithealthadvocacycenter.Afteralongmealpepperedwithintense,enthusiasticconversationswhileOliveworkedabusydinnershift,RuthhiredOliveashercommunityeducationcoordinator,inchargeofspeakingatschools,churchgroups,retirementcommunities,andbusinessesaboutthesciencebehindvaccines.ShegetstogeekoutallovertheMidwestaboutthefluvaccinenow.
WhenshefoundoutwheretheNationalCommunityHealthAwarenesswinterconferencewouldbethisyear—Maui—weknewitwasfate:WeowedAmiatriptotheisland.
Thelandinggearlowers;theplanecrossesthecoastlineandthensweepsoverthelushlandscapeoftheisland.IglancedownmyrowtowhereAmihasreachedacrosstheaisletoholdLucas’shand.It’sfittingthatherfirsttimeinMauishouldbewithsomeonewhoadoresherwithasmuchdevotionashedoes.
Andit’sfittingthatthistimeOliveandIareheadedtoMaui,I’vegotarealringinmypocket.
???
DAYTWOANDITTOOKsomeconvincingtogetAmitoagreetogozip-lining.Forone,itwasn’tfree.Andalso,zip-liningessentiallyrequiresjumpingfromaplatform,trustingtheharness,andflyingthroughtheairwhilehopingtherereallyisaplatformontheotherside.ForawomanlikeAmi,whorelisheskeepingastrangleholdonallofthevariablespossibleatanygivenmoment,zip-liningisn’tideal.
Butit’soneofthefewthingsOliveandIdidn’tgettodoonourfirsttrip,andmygirlfriendwouldhearnodissent.Shedidtheresearchforthebestlocation,boughtthetickets,andnowushersusuptotheplatformforourfirstjumpwithano-nonsensewaveofherhand.
“Steprightup,”shesays.
Amipeersovertheedgeoftheplatformandthenimmediatelytakesastepback.“Wow.It’shigh.”
“That’sagoodthing,”Olivereassuresher.“Itwouldbewaylessfuntodothisfromtheground.”
Amistaresflatlyather.
“LookatLucas,”Olivesays.“Lucasisn’tscared.”
Hefindshimselftheobjectofallofourattentionrightashe’sadjustinghimselfintheharness.
LucasgivesheralittlesalutebutItiltmyhead.“Lucasprobablyisn’tscaredbecauseLucasregularlygoesskydiving.”
“You’resupposedtobeonmyteam,”Olivegrowls.“TeamListen-to-Olive-Because-This-Will-Be-Fun-Damn-It.”
“I’malwaysonthatteam.”Ipauseandgiveherawinningsmile.“Butisitagoodtimetosuggestabetterteamname?Orno.”
Shestaresmedown,andIfightasmilebecauseifItoldherrightnowthatwithherblueshortsandwhitetanktop,andtheblueharnessandyellowhelmetthey’vegivenher,shelookslikeBobtheBuilder,shewouldmurdermewithherbarehandsandfeedmetothecreaturesontheforestfloor.
“Look,Ami,”shesays,andhermouthcurlsintoadelightedgrin,“I’llgofirst.”
Thefirstdropis50feetabovearavinewithaplatform150feetaway.Twoyearsago,Olivewouldhavewaiteduntileveryonewassafelyontheothersidebeforetakingherturn,certainherbadluckwouldsnapthecordorbreaktheplatformandendwithusallcrumpledontheforestfloor.ButnowIwatchasshestandsbehindthegate,followinginstructionstowaituntilherleadisstrappedtothepulleys,andthenstepsoutontotheplatform.Shehesitatesforonlyamomentbeforetakingoffinarunningleapandsailing(screaming)throughthetopsofthetrees.
Amiwatcheshergo.“She’ssobrave.”
Shedoesn’tsayitlikeit’sanepiphany;shejustsaysitlikeit’safact,somethingwe’veallalwaysknownaboutOlive,acorequality.Andit’strue,ofcourse,buttheselittletruths,finallybeingspokenaloud,aretiny,perfectrevelations,droppedlikejewelsinOlive’spalm.
SoeventhoughOlivedidn’thearthis,it’sstillawesometoseeAmilookingafterhertwininwonderlikethis,likeshe’sstillfiguringthingsoutaboutthispersonsheknowsaswellassheknowsherownheart.
???
THELASTLINEOFTHEdayisoneofthebiggestinHawaii—nearly2800feetfromplatformtoplatform.Thebestpartistherearetwoparallellines;wecanrideitintandem.Aswemakeourwaytothetop,Iremindherwheretokeepherhandsandtoangleherwriststheoppositedirectionthatshewantstoturn.
“Andremember,eventhoughwe’restartingsidebyside,I’llprobablymakeittherefasterbecauseIweighmore.”
Shestops,lookingupatme.“Okay,SirIsaacNewton,Idon’tneedalesson.”
“Awhat?Iwasn’tgivingone.”
“Youweremansplaininghowgravityworks.”
IgotoarguebutherbrowsgoupasinThinkbeforeyouspeak,anditmakesmelaugh.She’snotwrong.
Leaningin,Ipressakisstothetopofheryellowhelmet.“I’msorry.”
Shescruncheshernoseandmyeyesfollowthemovement.HerfreckleswerethefirstthingInoticedabouther.Amihasafew,butOlivehastwelve,scatteredjustacrossthebridgeofhernoseandoverhercheeks.Ihadanideaofwhatshelookedlikebeforewemet—obviouslyIknewshewasDane’sgirlfriend’stwin—butIwasn’tpreparedforthefrecklesandhowtheymovedwithhersmile,orthewayadrenalinedumpedintomyveinswhenshepointedthatsmileatmeandintroducedherself.
Shedidn’tsmilelikethatatmeagainforyears.
HerhairiscurlyfromthehumidityandcomingloosefromherponytailandevendressedlikeBobtheBuilder,she’sstillthemostbeautifulthingI’veeverseen.
Beautiful,butalsoverysuspicious.“ThatapologywaseasiertoextractthanIexpected.”
Irunmythumboverastrandofherrebellioushairandpushitbackfromherface.Shehasnoideahowgoodmymoodisrightnow.I’mstrugglingtofindtherightmomenttopropose,butI’menjoyingeverysecondmorethantheonethatcamebeforeit;itmakesithardtochoosehowandwhentodothis.“Sorrytodisappoint,”Isay.“Youandyourarguingkink.”
Withablushingeyeroll,sheturnsbacktowardthegroup.“Shutup.”
Ibitebackmysmile.
“Stopmakingthatface.”
Ilaugh.“HowdoyouknowI’mmakingaface?You’renotevenlookingatme.”
“Idon’thavetolookatyoutoknowyou’redoingthatderpyheart-eyesthing.”
Ibendtowhisperinherear.“MaybeI’mmakingafacebecauseIloveyou,andIlikewhenyou’reargumentative.IcanshowyoujusthowmuchIlikeitwhenwegetbacktothehotel.”
“Getaroom.”AmisharesacommiseratinglookwithLucasashe’sstrappedintothepulley.
ButthensheturnsandmeetsOlive’sgazeacrosstheplatform.Idon’tneedtounderstandsecrettwintelepathytoknowthatAmiisn’tjusthappyforhersister,she’selated.Amiisn’ttheonlyonewhobelievesOlivedeserveseverybitofblissthisworldhastooffer.Seeingthattiny,saltywomancrackupormeltorlightuplikeaconstellationgivesmelife.
NowIjusthavetogethertoagreetomarryme.
???
ITHINKI’VEFOUNDMYmomentwhenfournightsin,we’regivenasunsetthat’ssosurrealitfeelscomputergenerated.Theskyisthislayeredparfaitofpastels;thesunseemsreluctanttodisappearentirely,andit’soneofthoseperfectprogressionswherewecanwatchitslowlydiminishinsizeuntilit’snothingbutatinydotoflightandthen—poof.It’sgone.
It’srightthenthatIholdmyphoneup,snappingaselfieofOliveandmeonthebeach.Theskyisacalmingpurple-blue.Herhairisblowingacrossherface,we’rebothalittletipsy.Ourfeetarebare,toesdigginginthewarmsand,andthehappinessinourexpressionsispalpable.It’sagreatfuckingphoto.
Istaredownatit,spinningalittleinside.I’msousedtoseeingourfacestogether,sousedtohowshefitsagainstmyshoulder.Ilovehereyesandherskinandhersmile.Iloveourwildmomentsandourquietones.Lovefightingandfuckingandlaughingwithher.Ilovehoweasywelooksidebyside.I’vespentthelastfewdaysagonizingoverwhentopropose,butitoccurstomethatthisiswhenIdoit:inthisquietspace,wherewe’rejustus,havingaperfectnight.AmiandLucasaredownthebeachaways,walkinginthelappingwaves,andsoitfeelslikewehavethislittlestretchofsandentirelytoourselves.
Iturntoher;myheartisathunderinsideme.“Hey,you.”
Shegrinsatthephone,takingitfromme.“Thisiscute.”
“Itis.”Itakeadeepbreath,steadyingmyself.
“Captionthisphoto,”shesays,oblivioustomyinternalmayhem,mymentalpreparationforoneofthebiggestmomentsofmylife.
“Um..”Isay,alittlethrownbutthinkingasItrytoplayalong.
Andthensheburstsoutlaughing.“Here’sone:‘Shesaidyes!’”Sheleansintome,crackingup.“Oh,mygod,thisisagoodpictureofusbutthisisexactlythekindofvacationphotospeopleinMinnesotaputontheirmantelinshell-encrustedframestoremindthemselvesofthesunshinewhenweareinthedeepestpitofwinter.”Shehandsthephonebacktome.“HowmanyMinnesotansdoyouthinkgetengagedonthebeach?Eightypercent?Ninety?”Shakingherhead,shegrinsatme.“Whattotal—”
Andthenshestops,hergazemovingovermyface.Itfeelslikeatubeofcottonhaslodgeditselfinmythroat.Oliveclapsahandoverhermouthasrealizationdrawshereyescomicallywide.“Oh.Shit.Oh,Ethan.Oh,shit.”
“No,it’sokay.”
“Youweren’t,wereyou?AmIthatbiganasshole?”
“I—butno.Idon’t—itisn’t.Don’tworry.”
Shegapesatme,eyeswidewithpanicasitbecomesclearhersarcasmwasn’tthatfaroffthemark.“IamsuchadickthatI’vebrokenyourbrain.”
Idon’tknowwhethertobeamusedbythisdestroyedattemptatproposingorbummed.Itdidseemliketheperfectmoment;Ifeltlikewewereonthesamepageandthen—nope.Notevenalittle.
“Ethan,I’mso—”
“Ollie,it’sokay.Youdon’tknowwhatIwasgoingtosayYouthinkyoudo,butyoudon’t.”Basedoffherunsurelook,Iadd,“Trustme.It’sallgood.”
Ileanin,kissingher,tryingtogethertoletgowithagentlebitetoherlowerlip,agrowlthathashersofteningbesideme,openinghermouthtoletmefeelher.Itescalatesuntilwe’rebothalittleoutofbreath,wantingtotakeittothenextplacewhereclothescomeoffandbodiescometogether,butalthoughit’sgettingdark,itisn’tthatdarkorthatemptyouthereonthebeach.
WhenIpullbackandsmileatherlikeeverythingisfine,Icansensetheskepticismlingeringinherposture,howsheholdsherselfcarefullylikeshedoesn’twanttomakeawrongmove.EvenifOlivethinksIwasgoingtopropose,shestillhasn’tsaidanythinglikeIwouldsayyes,youknoworIwaswaitingforyoutoask,somaybeit’sagoodthingIdidn’tmanagetogetthewordsout.IknowthatherviewofmarriagehasbeenmarredbyherparentsandbyAmiandDane,butIalsoliketothinkthatI’vechangedherviewsonlong-termcommitment.Iloveherwildly.Iwantthis—wanttomarryher—butIhavetoaccepttherealitythatitisn’twhatshewants,andwecanlivejustashappilytogetherforeverwithoutthatceremonybindingus.
God,mybrainisablenderallofasudden.
Shelaysdowninthesand,pullingmegentlybacksothatshecancurlonherside,herheadtomychest.“Iloveyou,”shesayssimply.
“Iloveyou,too.”
“Whateveryouweregoingtosay—”
“Sweetheart,letitgo.”
Shelaughs,kissingmyneck.“Okay.Fine.”
Weneedanewsubject,somethingtohelpuslimpawayfromthiscrash.
“YoureallylikeLucas,don’tyou?”Iask.IthadtakenAmialmostayeartostartdatingagainafterthedivorce.Daneheldouthopethatshe’dtakehimbackandthattheycouldworkthingsout,butIdidn’tblameherfornotwantingtotry.Mybrotherdidn’tjustloseAmi’strustinallthis;helostmine,too.Thingsbetweenushaveslowlygottenbetter,butwestillhavealongwaytogo.
“Ido.He’sgoodforher.I’mgladyouintroducedthem.”
Ididn’tthinkOlivewouldeverwelcomeanotherguyintohersister’slife.Shewasprotectiveatfirst,butatdinneronenight,Lucas—doctor,adventureseeker,andwidowedfatherofthemostadorablefour-year-oldI’veeverseen—wonherover.
“Ethan?”shesaysquietly,pressingsmallkissesupmyneckandalongmyjaw.
“Hmm?”
Sheholdsherbreathandthenletsitoutinashakyexhale.“Isawtheugliestdresstheotherday.”
Iwaitforhertocontinue,admittedlyconfused,butfinallyhavetoprompther.“Trustme,I’mriveted.Tellmemore.”
Shelaughs,pinchingmywaist.“Listen.Itwasthishorrificorange.Sortoffuzzy?Like,velvet,butnot.Somethingbetweenvelvetandfelt.Velvelt.”
“Thisstorykeepsgettingbetter.”
Laughingagain,shebaresherteethagainstmyjaw.“IwasthinkingwecouldgetitforAmi.Aspayback.”
Iturnmyfacetohers.Upcloseshe’sonlyindividualfeatures:enormousbrowneyes,fullredmouth,highcheekbones,gentlyslopingnose.“What?”
Sherollshereyesandgrowls.Whenshespeaks,Iseeherbravery;it’sthesameOlivewhoblindlyjumpedfromaplatformtosailthroughtheforest.“I’msaying.maybeifwegotmarriedshewouldhavetoweartheuglydressthistime.”
Struckdumb,allIcanmanageis,“Youwanttogetmarried?”
Suddenlyunsureofherself,Olivepullsback.“Don’tyou?”
“Yes.Totally.Absolutely.”Itripovermywords,gatheringherbackclosetome.“Ididn’tthink—fromearlier—Ithoughtyouweren’t—”
Shelooksdirectlyatme,chinup.“Ido.”
Oliveslidesoverontome,cuppingmyface.“IthinkmyjokeearlierwastotallyFreudian.Ithoughtmaybeyouwould.Butthenwe’vebeenhereafewdaysandyoudidn’t.AndthenIwaslike,whyshouldn’tIdoit?There’snorulebookthatithastobetheman.”
Ireachintomypocketandpulloutthetinybox.“It’strue—itdoesn’thavetobeme,andyoucantotallygetdownononekneetopropose,butjustsoyouknow,Idon’tthinkthisringwouldfitme.”
Shesqueals,risingtoherkneestotakethebox.“Forme?”
“Imean,onlyifyouwantit.Icangoasksomeoneelseifyou—”
Oliveshovesme,laughing.IfI’mnotmistaken,hereyesarealittlemisty.Sheopenstheboxandslidesherhandoverhermouthwhensheseesthedelicatebandlinedwithahaloofdiamonds,theemerald-cutstonecradledinthecenter.I’lladmit,I’mproudofmyself—itisaprettygreatring.
“Areyoucrying?”Iask,grinning.Drawingintenselypositiveemotionoutofthiswomanmakesmefeelgodlike.
ButofcourseOlivewouldneveradmittohappytears.“No.”
Isquintather.“Yousure?”
“Yes.”Shevaliantlyworkstoclearhereyes.
“Imean”—Ileaninforacloserlook—“itlookslikeyoumightbe.”
“Shutup.”
Gently,Ikissthecornerofhermouth.“Willyoumarryme,OscarOliviaTorres?”
Hereyescloseandatearbreaksloose.“Yes.”
Smiling,Ikisstheothersideofhermouthandthenslidetheringonherfinger.Webothlookdownatit.“Doyoulikeit?”
Hervoiceshakes.“Um.Yeah.”
“Areyouusuallybetteratmakingconversationthanyouarewithme?”
Shelaughs,tacklingme.Thesandisstillwarmatmyback,andthislittlebundleoffireishotallalongmyfrontandIburstoutlaughing,too.Whataridiculous,silly,mistake-riddenproposalthatwas.
Itwasabsolutelyperfect.acknowledgments
Ahhh,whatafunridethisonewas!Nobookiseasytowrite,butevenifthisonewasn’teasy,itwasatotalblast.Oneofthebestthingsaboutwritingasateamistheopportunitywegettomakeeachotherlaugh.TheUnhoneymoonersofferedplentyofsuchopportunities,anditmeantourdaysdraftingthiswerespentlaughingatthecomputerscreen.Nottooshabbyforadayjob.
Wealwaysgiveourselvespermissiontodraftfast,editlater,andpartlythat’sbecauseit’seasiertofixthancreate.Butinreality,wehavetheluxuryofworkingthiswaybecausewehavefantasticeditors.KateDresserandAdamWilson—youtwoaresoincrediblygoodatthis.Thankyouforalwaysmakingsureourbooksareasstrongastheypossiblycanbeandforbeinghilariousandgood-heartedhumansintheprocess.Wesayitallthetimebutwefeelveryluckytobeabletodothiswithyou.
OuragentisHollyRootandsheisthebestofthebest—saavy,intuitive,level-headed,andtotallyloveable.Thankyou,Holly,forthepasteightyearsofninjaness.
ThankyoutoourPRrepandprecious,KristinDwyer.Youdidsogood,girlisstartingtofeellikeanunderstatement,butattheendofthedayitwillalwaysremaintruebecauseyoualwaysdosogood.Aboveandbeyond,everytime.
ThankyoutoourGalleryBooksteam:CarolynReidy,JenBergstrom,JenLong,AimeeBell,MollyGregory,RachelBrenner,AbbyZidle,DianaVelasquez,MackenzieHickey,JohnoftheMustacheVairo,LisaLitwack,LauraCherkas,ChelseaCohen,theamazingsalesforce(weheartyou),andanyonewhohashelpedourbooksgetintothehandsofreaders.Wearesogratefulforeverysingleoneofyou.
Hugegratitudetoourpre-readersYesiCavazos,ArielleSeleske,GabbySotelo,andFrankieO’Connor,andalsotothoseintheCLo&FriendsgroupforhelpingusinourgoaltowriteanauthenticMexican-Americanfamily.Yourfeedbackwassofantasticandwehopewemadeyouproud.Itgoeswithoutsayingthatanythingwegotwrongoranyopportunitywemissedisentirelyonus.Youareallsowonderful!
Toallthebooksellersandlibrariansoutthere,noteveryherowearscapes!(Imean,maybeyousellbookswhilewearingacapeandthat’samazing,butevenifyoudon’t,you’restill#1inourbook.)Booksarelife,theyarebrainfood,theybringjoy,andrelief,andconnection.Doingwhatyoudo,andgettingbooksyouloveintothehandsofreadersissuchagifttotheworld,andwearegratefultoyoubeyondwords.
Tothebloggers,reviewers,readers:whatwehaveisasymbioticrelationship.Wecouldn’tdothiswithoutyou,andthereisnotadaythatgoesbywhenwedon’tthinkaboutthis.Thankyouforyoursupport,encouragement,andtimespentreadingourwords.Everytimeyourecommendabookofourstoafriend,anangelgetstheirwingsOrapuppygetstummyrubs.Orahedgehoggetsamealworm.Bottomline:goodthingshappenintheuniverse.Weheartyou.
Toourfamilies:weloveyouallsomuchbutyouknowthat.Whatyoureallyneedtohearisourthanksforputtingupwithus.Livingwithawriteroftenmeansyou’reaskingthemaquestionandthey’restaringoffintospace,tryingtofigureoutwhatthehellcomesnextinthebook.Youhandlethatwithgraceandpatience(andalsoitworksoutforyou,too,becausewe’reworkingfromhomesothere’srarelyanexcusewhywecan’talsothrowsomedinnerintheInstantPot)
Christina,thiswasyouryear.Yourvoice,yourhumor,andyourabilitytofleshoutastory:it’sallbackandreadytoblastoffintoallthefunthingswehavecomingupnext.IknowIsayitallthetime,butI’msoproudtobeabletodothiswithyou
Lo,thewayyouputwordstogetherstillastoundsme.TherearetimesIreadsomethingyou’vesentmeandIfindmyselfjuststaringatthecomputer,wonderingwhereintheworldyoucameupwithanideaorphrase.IfIdidn’talsoknowyou’rethemostloving,generous,loyalfriendeverIwouldreallyhateyourguts.Ha!Ikid.Mostly.Thankyouforlettingmedothiswihyou.Iloveyou.GalleryBooksAnImprintofSimon&Schuster,Inc.1230AvenueoftheAmericasNewYork,