Nerdplay

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

I t doesn’t take long for the misery to seep in.

None of the usual distractions seem to work.

The life I’d built B.C., Before Cricket, now feels hollow and pointless.

And it has nothing to do with Matt becoming partner.

He’s the right choice, if only because he’s willing to cross lines I wouldn’t.

If that’s the kind of person the firm wants—the kind of example they want to set for the associates and staff—then I don’t belong in that seat.

I don’t belong at that firm.

Which is why I tender my resignation.

I’m an idiot for taking so long to figure it out. Cricket got there ahead of me. It should come as no surprise since she was ahead of me from the start.

I gird my loins and avoid all thoughts of Cricket. It isn’t easy. The simplest things remind me of her—the ribbons of gold at sunset. The chirping of birds during a hike in Wissahickon Park.

I haven’t told my parents because I know how they’ll respond, and I’m not interested in their unsolicited opinions.

My brother and sister have been too busy with their own lives to check in with me, despite my efforts to reach out.

It takes a bit of soul-searching, but I realize that’s how it’s always been.

Their pursuits of excellence leave room for little else.

It’s surprising to me that they’ve managed to sustain relationships.

I wonder if their respective partners will become resentful of the time devoted to external validation, assuming they haven’t already.

My parents host their fortieth anniversary party in the backyard of my childhood home.

It’s a massive property with all the trappings of a privileged life.

One sweeping glance at the glittering guests surrounding the waterfall pool and I long to be somewhere else.

A place I feel lighter and more like myself.

I know such a place exists because I spent two weeks there and wish like hell I could go back.

I miss camp, and I miss the woman who owns it even more.

“Charlie, I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Hi, Mom. Wouldn’t miss it.” I give her a kiss on the cheek and am engulfed in the scent of Libre.

“Have you seen your father?”

“Not yet.”

“The caterer says there’s a potential storm coming later, so we may have to relocate inside in a couple hours.”

I glance up at the clear blue sky. “I bet we make it through dinner without a problem.”

Her eyebrows pinch together as she looks me up and down. “You’re not wearing a suit.”

“No, I’m not,” is all I say. I don’t owe her an explanation. I’m a grown man and I’ll wear what feels comfortable.

Her gaze drops to my shoes. “At least you had the good sense to wear your loafers.”

It’s only because I didn’t want to spend money on new shoes. Choices don’t come without consequences, and my clothing budget is one of them.

“There’s Melinda and Barnard. I must say hello.” With those words she’s gone, fluttering like a butterfly in its natural habitat.

My brother spots me from the veranda. He flashes a smile and gestures to his wife’s burgeoning belly, then gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up.

I’m glad he’s here, playing the role of the doting husband and soon-to-be father.

I hope for their sake it’s real. The last thing I want is for the world to get another generation of my parents—miserable together but sticking it out for the sake of appearances.

Pretending all day, every day, to be someone and something you’re not is exhausting.

I’m all through with those games. The ones I played at camp were far more enjoyable.

As I cut across the lawn toward the veranda, my sister Elizabeth swoops in from the side. She hooks her arm through mine and matches my pace. “Hey, big brother. I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

“You found me.”

She casts a sidelong glance, assessing me. “Since when do you arrive fashionably late?”

“Since I decided to march to the beat of my own drum.”

She pats my arm. “Good for you.”

“Where’s Bruno?”

“Not coming. We broke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was an ass. I considered holding on to him until after the party to keep Mom and Dad off my back, but then I won another championship, so I figure that’ll be enough to carry me through this event until the next one.”

I hate that she has to think strategically like that in order to avoid our parents’ displeasure. I hate that I did too.

We reach Michael and Kayla, who are regaling the other guests with tales of their prenatal classes. I recognize one of them—my parents’ neighbor, Mr. Klein.

“I bet she didn’t realize she was dealing with a world-class surgeon when she said that,” I hear Mr. Klein say.

“Not to worry,” Kayla replies. “Michael was quick to tell her.” Despite her cheerful smile, her words have bite.

Michael gives me a brotherly half hug and musses Elizabeth’s hair. She swats his hand away. “Stop! Do you have any idea how long this blowout took?”

“How are you feeling?” I greet Kayla with a kiss on the cheek.

“Like a gorilla in the desert.”

I laugh. “That’s very specific.”

Kayla looks at me, hesitant.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She smiles. “Nothing. It’s just that we’ve been here an hour, and you’re the first person to ask me how I’m feeling.”

“You’re walking for two. It can’t be easy, especially in the summer heat, but you look amazing. Apparently, that whole glowing thing isn’t bullshit after all.”

Her smile widens. “Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate that.”

Michael curls a possessive arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Are you flirting with my wife?”

Kayla smacks his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s being an absolute gentleman.”

“Won’t last long,” Michael says. “As soon as he makes partner, whoosh! It’ll go straight to his head.”

“Is that what happened to you?” I ask.

Kayla smothers a laugh. Elizabeth jabs me in the ribs with a bony elbow. “Play nice. People are listening.”

Ah yes. The people whose opinions matter more than our actual lives.

Elizabeth coughs twice into her hand. I recognize our childhood Dad Alert.

“Here he is.” I hear my father’s booming voice before I see him. “Finally, all three of my illustrious children in one place.”

I swivel to face him. “Hey, Dad.”

“Charles, you remember Judd Pinkerton, don’t you?” He steers me away from the group.

“Of course,” I lie. “Nice to see you again.”

The blush of Judd’s cheeks and the empty glass in his hand suggests he’s not going to recall this conversation later. “You’re the baseball player, right?”

“Not for a long time now.”

He pumps my hand like he’s trying to reach the bottom of a well. “Well, it’s good to see you again, son. What is it you do these days?”

“Charles is about to become the youngest partner in his firm’s history,” my father replies, the picture of paternal pride.

“Actually, I’m not. They made someone else partner.”

My father blinks, taken aback by my admission. “I didn’t realize they’d made a decision.”

“I also made one,” I say. “I resigned.”

Judd’s gaze dances between us, and I can tell he isn’t sure whether to stay for the front seat to the family fireworks or quietly extricate himself from what is sure to be an epic showdown between father and son.

“I should check on my wife,” he finally says. “Humidity gives her a migraine.”

The second Judd disappears, my father’s mouth twists into a sneer. “When did you quit?”

“Maybe a month ago. Not sure.”

He stares at me for a beat, as though the cloud of insanity might pass us by. “You’re a Thorpe for Pete’s sake. We don’t quit .”

“I did.”

Splotches of red span his neck and face. “They turned you down for partner, so you took your business elsewhere. Is that it?”

“I’m not working for another firm.” I swipe a beer from the tray of a passing server and take a long drink from the Pilsner glass.

The color drains from his face. “Penelope,” he croaks.

My mother magically appears by his side, as though waiting in the wings to be summoned. “What is it, Owen?”

He unfastens the top button of his collar. “Tell her, Charles. Tell your mother what you told me.”

“I quit my job.”

My mother swoons like a nineteenth-century debutante. I resist the urge to call for smelling salts.

“What’s gotten into you, Charles?” she asks. “You didn’t return the RSVP for the party. You showed up late. You quit your job. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Bruno and I broke up,” Elizabeth blurts. I don’t realize she’s standing beside me until she speaks.

My parents swing their gazes to her. My baby sister is giving me the chance to escape.

I take it and run.

I don’t make it very far. I get stopped every couple feet by guests eager to hear about my partnership. I tell each one the truth. No need for a newsletter.

Elizabeth finds me a few minutes later and corners me by the bar. “Did I hear right? You quit the firm?”

I nod. “Sure did.”

“Why?”

“I decided my outside didn’t match my inside. I wanted to rectify that before I wasted my whole life being someone I’m not.”

I expect her to pepper me with a dozen questions. Instead, she pulls me into a warm embrace. “I’m so proud of you, big brother.”

“Thanks.” It means a lot to hear that from a member of my family. “Don’t tell Mom and Dad, but I did take a handful of clients with me.”

She releases her hold on me. “I figured you had a plan.”

“It’s not set in stone. There’s one big piece I haven’t managed to lock in yet.”

“You’re Charlie Thorpe. If anybody can manage, it’s my big brother.”

Her words give me the strength I’ve been lacking. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

Michael’s voice cuts through the tender moment. “Why is Dad burning through Manhattans like they’re water?”

“Because Charlie quit his job,” Elizabeth says, keeping one arm slung proudly across my shoulders.

Michael scrunches his face in confusion. “You didn’t make partner?”

“Nope. Hey, we should take off our shoes.”

Elizabeth looks down at hers. “Amen to that.” She kicks off her heels without hesitation.

Michael continues to stare at me. “Bro, are you high? What’s gotten into you?”

“High on life.” I remove my socks and shoes and pad around the perfectly manicured lawn.

The silky grass feels good on the bottom of my feet.

I suddenly remember what it felt like to run around the backyard and play tag with the other kids in the neighborhood.

When did that stop and why? I can’t remember.

Elizabeth performs a cartwheel, causing her dress to hike up. She shrieks with laughter and pulls it down as she lands.

Michael doesn’t crack a smile. “Mom and Dad will flip if they see you two acting like fools.”

“So what?” I say. “It’s a party. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves.”

“It’s possible to enjoy yourselves without making a scene.”

Kayla looks at her husband, then at us. “I’d like to take off my shoes, Michael. My feet are swollen.”

“Do it,” Elizabeth says. “Liberate those puppies.” She pauses. “Or is it pigs? Who goes to the market?”

Okay, I may not be high, but I’m fairly certain Elizabeth is.

“Kayla, I don’t think that’s appropriate…” My brother doesn’t finish. Kayla is already out of her shoes and barefoot on the grass.

Michael casts an anxious glance over his shoulder. “You’re all being ridiculous. This is an anniversary party, not a child’s birthday party.”

“Ooh, there should be a bouncy house,” Elizabeth says. “God, wouldn’t that be so much fun?” She begins to jump up and down and pretends she’s bouncing.

“Do you know how many kids end up in the ER because of bounce houses?” Michael asks. “They’re a liability.”

“Who wants to swim?” Elizabeth asks, jerking her own hand in the air.

“I’ll dangle my feet in,” Kayla says. “It might keep me from overheating out here.”

Michael’s nostrils flare. “The pool is for show.”

“No, it isn’t. We spent hours in that pool every summer.” Elizabeth throws her arms around me. “Thanks, Charlie. This mindset change is just what I needed.”

I tighten my hold on her. I’m clueless as to what she’s going through right now, but it feels good to have helped in some small way. I imagine this is how Cricket feels at camp.

Cricket.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. I release my sister as a drop of rain lands on my nose. Uh-oh.

Despite the warnings, the storm catches us by surprise. I recover my shoes and socks before the downpour. We don’t make it to the house. Everyone in our section of the yard huddles under the nearest awning.

“This is awesome,” Elizabeth declares to no one in particular. I like this Elizabeth. She’s carefree and—dare I say it—happy.

And I know exactly how that feels.

Rain pelts the yard. I’m momentarily dazed by it, transported to that day at camp when my cabin flooded. I’m back in Cricket’s single bed, trying not to touch her while desperately wanting to.

“Well, I’ve cooled down without the pool,” Kayla says. “How long is this supposed to last?”

“Hard to know with these storms,” Michael replies. “My weather app says this system extends all the way to the Poconos.”

My brain sputters to a stop. The Poconos. The place that haunts my dreams. The place I haven’t had the courage to revisit, despite the steps I’ve taken to right my wrongs.

I vacate the awning, prompting my sister to grab my arm. “Stick around, Charlie. This, too, shall pass.”

What if it already has? What if, like Patrick, I’ve waited too long to make amends?

“I need to go.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere I should’ve gone weeks ago.”