Chapter Fourteen
Heron
Before bridal shower guests began to arrive, Heron’s mother brought her a pink paper plate piled with food. “Trust me,” she said, “eat now. You might not get a chance later.” The setup was finished, but Felicia continued to hover, adjusting a decoration here and there, smoothing her dress. Although Heron had assured her it wasn’t a formal event, Felicia’s dark hair was in polished, beauty-contestant curls and she wore a pink silk sheath and matching heels—a contrast to Toni’s denim shirtdress and Bea’s red t-shirt dress. Even Heron’s floral sundress was far more casual.
Heron took a bite of a cucumber sandwich. She’d skipped breakfast and should have been hungry, but she was too excited to eat and abandoned the plate on the kitchen counter. Today felt like the start of everything, her worlds coming together. She couldn’t wait for her mom to finally meet Charlie and see what a wonderful husband Heron was going to have.
In March in Millet, the weather could go either way. Fortunately, today was warm because Bea’s cute little house wasn’t built for large parties. Bea had propped open the front and back doors, expanding the mingling space onto the porch and into the backyard, and moved some of her living room furniture (along with a protesting Herschel, upset to be excluded) into the bedrooms to create more space. They pushed Bea’s dining table up against one wall. Now it was piled with finger foods courtesy of Toni.
Although Bea and Heron had shot ideas back and forth about polite wording and settled on “Heron and Charlie ask only for your presence to celebrate with them,” Toni and Felicia both said people would bring gifts anyway, and Toni had placed a discreet table at the bottom of the stairs, right next to the front door.
Heron hoped she could open any gifts later; she would be happy to write thank-you notes if it meant not sitting as the center of attention while all the eyes in the room focused on her. Thank goodness Bea said she’d do anything to avoid making bridal gowns out of toilet paper. Shower games might have been fun in a group of a dozen girlfriends, but not with a mixed crowd like the one they were expecting.
A few early guests arrived. Charlie wasn’t there yet, but he wasn’t technically late. Bea lived on the opposite side of campus from the SOD house. Most of the fraternity was going to walk over together, the way they did when they serenaded a girl who was getting pinned. It could take a while to make the walk. More guests trickled in, and soon Heron was wrapped up in a flurry of congratulations and questions, talk of their plans for the coming year.
“Yes, I’m so excited about New York,” she must have said a dozen times, craning her neck around the room to see if Charlie was there.
Charlie strode up the front walk twenty minutes after the party had been scheduled to start, with a phalanx of SODs at his back and a stormy look on his face. Heron saw Jason toss a beer can into Bea’s hydrangea bushes and rolled her eyes. They’d pre-partied. Fantastic. This must be why Charlie looked so irritable; she imagined him trying to round the group up, get them moving. Of course.
She started to make her way toward him, but every time she got closer it seemed either she or Charlie was pulled away by the attention of a well-meaning guest. It was touching that so many of their professors were here, along with the girlfriends from her first year dorm she hadn’t seen as much of as she could, often choosing to spend time with Charlie instead. It was so sweet of the fraternity boys to come. They really loved Charlie. She was proud of his leadership skills. Even Jason seemed to have come around; he had been at Charlie’s side all day.
Finally, Bea clinked her fork on a glass and said, “I want to thank you all for coming today to celebrate my dear cousin. Cousins,” she corrected herself, with a warm look toward Charlie.
Suddenly, the crowd that seemed to have been conspiring to keep them apart all day was gently pushing Heron toward the front of the room, and she saw Charlie being ushered forward in a similar manner. Then they were standing together before their guests. She reached for his hand and it was cold, rigid, but his fingers eventually closed around hers and squeezed with a pressure that felt almost desperate. It wasn’t like Charlie at all.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “Thank you so much for coming. It means a lot to us for you to be here with us today to celebrate.” She looked up at Charlie, certain he would have more to add.
“Yes.” Charlie’s voice sounded strangled. Was he okay? Heron wanted to get him a cup of water, but she felt pinned in place by the attention of the room. “Thank you so much for being here. If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to show you all exactly how special Heron is, and exactly what she means to me.”
As the room broke into a collective “aww,” Jason turned on Bea’s TV and plugged a flash drive into the USB port. Charlie flicked a button on a remote Heron hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The screen filled with images of her and images of them together, as the strains of the song he’d played when he proposed drifted through the room.
Tears sprung to her eyes as the warmth of his love washed over her. She could see it clearly in the pictures he’d taken. She was on the quad, walking toward him. She was bent over her desk, a pencil tapping absentmindedly against her ear. She was laughing in the sun, the fields of her father’s vineyard behind her. And the pictures of them together were a catalog of their relationship: an awkwardly posed photo on their first official date, Charlie’s freshman year fraternity formal; at a Halloween party, dressed as Superman and Lois Lane; sitting together on the grass watching an Ultimate Frisbee game, arms and legs casually overlapping; the night they got engaged, fairy lights of the terrace behind them, Heron gazing adoringly up at Charlie in her moon-colored dress, Charlie grinning proudly for the camera.
Heron felt her upper lip quiver and tears brim. She tipped her head back so they wouldn’t spill down her cheeks. She’d known she’d get emotional today, but she didn’t want to cry with all of these people looking at her.
Abruptly, the music stopped, and the slideshow of photos switched to video. It was grainy at first, shaky, but as the picture focused, she could make out two people, kissing fervently and groping each other, their embrace growing more passionate as the female figure tumbled to the ground, followed by the male. The camera zoomed in on their bodies moving together. Her pale dress had dark tendrils of vines embroidered on it. Charlie hit pause. In the blurry image, the footbridge and grassy hill in the background were unmistakably the Messiman amphitheater. The girl was unmistakably Heron.
As the nature of the video became apparent to the partygoers, the sentimental mood turned to shock and discomfort. Some of the faculty members gathered their things and discreetly slipped out the door.
How could this possibly be real? It felt exactly like a nightmare, her limbs stuck in place, her perception untrustworthy. Heron looked around, frantic, finally fixing her gaze on Charlie’s stony face. She was desperate for him to meet her eyes to explain, but he refused to move his head toward her. She caught a glimpse of Bea, saying something rapidly, urgently, to Ben, before her eyes landed on her father, whose face was deep red.
“Son,” he said, a bite in his words, “Explain yourself. I’ve been happy to be modern about your relationship with my daughter; you love each other, she’s an adult who can make her own choices about intimacy. But this is not the time or place for you to”—he sputtered, searching for the right words—“prove it.”
“That’s not me.” Charlie exploded, waving a furious arm at the images on the screen. “Look how dark his hair is. This is your whore of a daughter, Len, showing how very much our relationship means to her. Look at her dress! This is the night we got engaged.”
The room seemed like it was spinning around Heron, but she could fix this, and she had to try. “Charlie,” she said, putting her will into keeping her voice calm, “you’re right, that is me. It’s me and Dave, the night of our homecoming dance, a year before I ever even met you. I wore the same dress both nights. I don’t know who took this video.” She had a pretty good idea, actually, looking across the room at Jason, who stood next to the screen, arms crossed, unable to keep the satisfied smirk off his face. “But it doesn’t have anything to do with us. You knew I’d been with Dave. You had girlfriends before you met me.”
The reaction from the party attendees who remained in the room ranged from shocked silence to uncomfortable laughter. Toni laid a hand on Len’s arm and leaned into his ear to say something.
“Okay,” Bea said, in her best teacher-getting-the-class-under-control voice. “I think we’ve all seen enough. More than enough.” She stepped forward to take the remote away from Charlie, who jerked it out of her reach.
“Even if I believed you,” he spat, “that tidy little explanation doesn’t work on this.” He restarted the video, mercifully fast-forwarding to a new clip. The window of Heron’s apartment appeared on screen. Her bed was centered in the shot, dimly lit by the string of filament light bulbs they’d installed when she moved in. Two nude bodies moved together in the soft light.
“This is last night, Heron. Last. Night. I saw it with my own eyes. How could you? How dare you?”
Heron could see Jason across the room, laughing, and the stricken faces of her family and friends. But all she could hear was her blood in her ears. She tried to slow down her racing thoughts, reminding herself to slowly inhale and exhale, but there didn’t seem to be any air in her lungs. Then she plummeted away from the scene into darkness.
Bea
Bea wasn’t close enough to catch Heron. Charlie was, but he didn’t. That was more shocking than anything else, the way he let her fall. Bea knelt to cradle her head, feeling her pulse, which was slow and faint, but steady. Len was right there with her, thankfully, otherwise she was pretty sure he’d have strangled Charlie where he stood.
She shot a sharp look to Ben, who took the remote from Charlie. “Enough,” he said, snapping the video off.
Throwing up his hands, Charlie strode out the door, muttering, “I’m done here.” The SOD brothers followed. Jason, that smirking little shit, was right behind Charlie.
Bea stood up and began to issue orders. “Toni, get a cold cloth from the kitchen. Maggie, go back to your apartment and find Heron’s emergency meds and some warm, comfortable clothes. Take my car, the keys are on the hook by the door.”
Maggie’s face was drained of color and her eyes were glassy. Was she okay to drive? She seemed to snap to her senses quickly enough, finding Bea’s keys and hurrying out the door.
“Everybody else, um, thank you for coming, but the best thing you can do now is give us some space.”
The room emptied. A couple of people, Bea noticed bitterly, picked up their gifts on the way out. Then, only Len, Felicia, and Toni were left.
And Ben. “You too,” she told him. “This is a family matter.”
She saw a hurt look cross Ben’s face, and knew he wanted to be considered part of the family, but she had too many things to worry about right now and his feelings would have to wait.
“Go on,” she said, more gently, “please. There’s nothing for you to do here. I’ll call you later.”
Ben gave her one short, sharp nod, then shuffled out the door.
“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance or something?” Felicia was twisting her fingers together.
“No.” Len’s voice was tight. “She’s coming around. We will if she’s not all right in a minute or two, but a fuss will make it worse.”
Because Felicia was the only one who had never seen Heron panic so badly she fainted, Bea explained, “This has happened before. A couple of times.”
“Oh.” Felicia’s face was pale, making her carefully applied makeup look clownish. She was standing behind one of Bea’s armchairs, and she rested her hands on the back, leaning forward.
“Felicia,” said Toni, emerging from the kitchen with a cold washcloth and a glass of water, “maybe you should sit down. You don’t look so great yourself.”
“Yes.” Bea tried to keep her tone brisk. “We certainly don’t need two patients.”
Heron stirred. Bea and Len helped her into a sitting position against the wall, and Toni gave her the water. “Small sips, honey.”
“Is he gone?” Heron asked.
“Yes,” said Bea, “everyone’s gone but us.”
Bea went to the kitchen to put the tea kettle on, pulling one of Heron’s favorite herbal blends from the cabinet, while Toni got her settled on the couch.
“What can I do?” Felicia asked.
“We’ve got it, Leece,” Len said.
She sat limply for a second, then said, “I’ll finish the tea,” and disappeared into the kitchen. Good. They had enough on their hands without managing Felicia’s reaction to all of this.
They sat silently with their mugs. Bea watched Heron, making concerned eye contact with Toni every so often. Len’s eyes were fixed on the floor.
Maggie’s return broke the silence. She was accompanied by Charlie’s friend Bryant, still in his uniform from the day’s baseball game. Annoyance flashed through Bea, that Maggie would bring someone else here, especially one of Charlie’s frat brothers, but she pushed it back, not wanting to add more tension to an already fraught situation.
Maggie handed the bottle of pills to Len, who removed one and gave it to Heron. “Bird,” Len said, “you don’t have to talk about this yet if you’re not ready, but I’m here to listen to anything you have to say.”
“Actually,” Maggie said, “we have something to say first if you don’t mind, Mr. Hunter.”
Heads swiveled toward Maggie, who perched on a straight-backed chair near the door. Bryant stood behind her with a hand on her shoulder. Bea realized they were together. And then the pieces clicked fully into place.
Heron
With the crowd gone, Heron was starting to feel better. The medication was helping, although the adrenaline flooding through her body had mostly receded by the time she took the pill. Now she felt exhausted and confused. None of this made any sense. She’d had a sleepover here with Bea last night. Charlie couldn’t have seen her in her own bed alone, much less with another man. She had some idea where the video from homecoming night had come from, a vague memory that she and Dave had heard noises as they walked through campus after the dance, stopping in the amphitheater with a blanket and a bottle of wine she’d snuck out of the tasting room. At the time, they’d thought they were going to be caught by a campus security patrol or maybe someone out walking their dog, but when nothing came of it, they promptly forgot all about it. But she knew Jason had been angry when she turned him down for the dance, and she’d seen him there, alone, leaning against the wall of the gym. He must have followed her and Dave when they left.
“Heron,” Maggie said, leaning forward to make eye contact with her friend, her expression grim, “it was us in the second video, me and Bryant.” She looked up at him. “We’ve been hooking up all year, actually,” she said with a small, sheepish smile.
“Oh.” Heron could barely sort through the pain and confusion of the day, but she felt a nudge of happiness for her friend. Maggie and Bryant made sense together. This was wonderful. Maggie should bring Bryant as her date to the wedding. Wait, would there still even be a wedding? Of course there would. Things couldn’t possibly end this way. They’d work it out.
Bryant, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, squeezed Maggie’s shoulder and took over the explanation. “I was talking with the guys in the house,” he said, looking pained, “and I said something about that rickety little futon Maggie has—”
“Go on,” Bea said, in the stern voice Heron had heard her use on students who hadn’t done their reading.
“Jason said, if you’re sleeping somewhere else and you have such a nice big bed, I should ask Maggie if we could use it. We washed your sheets. I’m so sorry, Heron.”
Heron sat up. The pieces were clicking together to form a horrible picture. “And Jason showed that homecoming night video to Charlie, and then told him to watch the window.”
Bea’s tone moved from stern to enraged. “That absolute little fucker. I’d like to rip his smug head right off.”
“I intend to do that myself, Dr. Hayes,” Bryant said. “Or at least, give him a real good piece of my mind.” One hand was clenched into a fist at his side, the other hadn’t left Maggie’s shoulder.
“We’re going to tell Charlie everything,” Maggie said. “I promise.”
For the first time since the music on Charlie’s video had stopped, Heron felt hopeful. All they had to do was explain everything to Charlie. It was all a big misunderstanding. She couldn’t believe he had jumped to conclusions and humiliated her like this, but life without him was unimaginable. Once he understood, he’d apologize and she would forgive him.
Bea
Bea fumed. A profanity-laced rant formed in her head, but she knew it wouldn’t help Heron to see exactly how angry she was, so she kept it inside. “Thanks,” she said to Maggie and Bryant. “But I think it’s better if you let the family sort this out. Do you need a ride home?”
“It’s not far,” Maggie said. “We can walk.”
“Feel better, Heron. Sorry.” Bryant exited with a shrug, looking like he wanted to say more but really, what could one possibly say in this situation?
Heron was gathering herself up from the couch. “Wait. I’ll come and talk to Charlie with you.”
Toni laid a hand on her knee. “Give it some time, sweetheart,” she said. “You can talk to him tomorrow. You should rest now.”
Bea walked the kids out. On the porch, Maggie grimaced and said under her breath, “We already tried to catch Charlie before we came over here, but he’s gone off somewhere with Jason. I’m so embarrassed, Bea, and I feel terrible.”
“It’s not your fault. Or yours, Bryant.” Bea was frankly a little annoyed with both of them. Who borrows someone’s bed without asking? But they’d been wronged here, too.
“I know,” he said, “but I feel awful. I keep trying to call Charlie, but he’s not answering and it doesn’t look like he’s reading his texts. I’ll do what I can to make it right as soon as he comes back to the house.”
“Good.” She watched Bryant put his arm around Maggie as they made their way down the sidewalk.
Back inside, Heron had nodded off to sleep, her head on Toni’s shoulder. Len and Felicia were glaring at each other and seemed to be in the middle of a hushed argument.
Felicia hissed, “I thought I was leaving her in better hands than this. Out in plain sight where some creep could take a video, honestly, Len, if I’d been there—”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t here, were you? You left me alone with a terrified fifteen-year-old. You have no idea what it was like for her after you left, how scared she was something else terrible would happen.” Oh, god, and something terrible had just happened, hadn’t it? She looked at Heron asleep, peaceful now because she was exhausted. Bea knew a tempest raged under the surface. The damage Charlie had done to Heron’s confidence today might take years to repair. “Thank goodness for Bea,” Len said, turning a grateful smile her direction.
“Oh, yeah,” Felicia snapped. “Clearly Bea has been a fantastic influence.”
“Hey,” Bea said, “that’s not fair and you know it.” She reached for her phone and pulled up a rideshare app. “I’m calling you a car, Felicia. I think it’s time for you to go back to your hotel.”
“No need,” said Felicia. “My hotel’s a few blocks away. I can see myself out.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Toni rolled her eyes at all of them. She gently caught Felicia’s wrist as she passed the sofa on her way out. “We’ll call you in the morning. I’m sure Heron will want to see you before you head back to Seattle.”
Felicia sent a regretful glance toward her daughter but didn’t say anything more.
Now that she had her phone in hand, Bea could see several text messages and two missed calls from Ben, but she didn’t have it in her to deal with him yet.
Heron shifted and opened her eyes. Bea said, “Bird, do you want to go home with your dad? Or do you want to stay here?” Her own apartment was not an option for a number of reasons, and Bea hoped she wouldn’t ask to go back there.
“Here,” Heron mumbled. “But can I just call Charlie and tell him where I am? I want him to know I’m okay.”
Heron’s phone was on the end table next to Toni. Bea caught Toni’s eye and gave a tiny shake of her head. “Why don’t you give him some time to cool off, honey?” Toni said. “Maybe in the morning.”
Bea winced, but Heron would have to face him sooner or later. It might be better for her to get it over with.
“I’ll put your stuff in the guest room.” Bea picked up the backpack Maggie had brought. Toni handed her Heron’s phone, which she slipped into her own pocket.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs as Len took her place on the ottoman across from his daughter. Putting a gentle hand on her knee, he said, “Love you, sweetheart. So much. Nothing could ever change that. We’ll sort everything out.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Call us if she needs anything,” he said to Bea, “and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“She’ll be okay, Len,” Bea said. “We’ll get her through this.”
Bea’s phone buzzed again. Ben. The text was simply “???!” She turned the notifications off and left it face down on the entryway table. He could wait.
As she was walking into the kitchen, she heard a chime in her other pocket. Heron’s phone. Charlie, asking, “Are you ok?” So the kid had some decency after all. But it wouldn’t hurt him to stew in the consequences of his actions. Bea had always known the passcode for Heron’s phone—Len’s birthday—so it was easy to punch it in and type a reply.
“This is Beatrice. Of course Heron isn’t okay. You’ll have further updates when or if she’s in a position to decide that’s something she wants. For now, it’s family only, and that certainly doesn’t include you after what you did.”
And then she turned the phone off.